vehemence, once more looking in her nephew's face.

"No," said Frank, with momentary bitterness; "I am not likely to make
any mistake about that--at present, at least. The brother is a
reprobate of whom they know nothing. I have no right to consider
myself their protector--but I am their friend at least," said the
Curate, breaking off with again that softening in his voice. "They may
have a great many friends, for anything I know; but I have confidence
in you, aunt Leonora: you are not perhaps particularly sympathetic,"
he went on, with a laugh; "you don't condole with Louisa, for
instance; but I could trust you with--"

"Lucy Wodehouse!" said Miss Leonora; "I don't dislike her at all, if
she would not wear that ridiculous grey cloak; but young men don't
take such an interest in young women without some reason for it. What
are we to do for you, Frank?" said the strong-minded woman, looking at
him with a little softness. Miss Leonora, perhaps, was not used to be
taken into anybody's confidence. It moved her more than might have
been expected from so self-possessed a woman. Perhaps no other act on
the part of her nephew could have had so much effect, had he been able
to pursue his advantage, upon the still undecided fate of Skelmersdale.

"Nothing," said the Curate. He met her eye very steadily, but she was
too clear-sighted to believe that he felt as calmly as he looked.
"Nothing," he repeated again--"I told you as much before. I have been
slandered here, and here I must remain. There are no parsonages or
paradises for me."

With which speech Mr Wentworth shook hands with his aunt and
went away. He left Miss Leonora as he had left her on various
occasions--considerably confused in her ideas. She could not enjoy any
longer the cream of the missionary's letter. When she tried to resume
her reading, her attention flagged over it. After a while she put on her
bonnet and went out, after a little consultation with her maid, who
assisted her in the housekeeping department. The house was tolerably
full at the present moment, but it was elastic. She was met at the green
door of Mr Wodehouse's garden by the new proprietor, who stared
excessively, and did not know what to make of such an apparition. "Jack
Wentworth's aunt, by Jove!" he said to himself, and took off his hat,
meaning to show her "a little civility." Miss Leonora thought him one of
the attendants at the recent ceremonial, and passed him without any
ceremony. She w