r resumed
after a moment, "Wentworth's brother has sent in his resignation to
his bishop. There is no doubt about it any longer. I thought that
delusion had been over, at all events; and I suppose now Wentworth
will be provided for," said Mr Morgan, not without a little anxiety.

"No; they are all equally crotchety, I think," said Mr Proctor. "I
know about them, through my--my connection with the Wodehouses, you
know. I should not wonder, for my own part, if he went after his
brother, who is a very intelligent man, though mistaken," the late
Rector added, with respect. "As for Frank Wentworth, he is a little
hot-headed. I had a long conversation the other night with the elder
brother. I tried to draw him out about Burgon's book, but he declined
to enter into the question. Frank has made up his mind to stay in
Carlingford. I understand he thinks it right on account of his
character being called in question here; though, of course, no one in
his senses could have had any doubt how _that_ would turn out," said
Mr Proctor, forgetting that he himself had been very doubtful about
the Curate. "From what I hear, they are all very crotchety," he
continued, and finished his breakfast calmly, as if that settled the
question. As for Mrs Morgan, even this interesting statement had no
effect upon her. She looked up suddenly at one moment as if intending
to dart a reproachful glance at her husband, but bethought herself in
time, and remained passive as before; not the less, however, was she
moved by what she had just heard. It was not Mr Wentworth she was
thinking of, except in a very secondary degree. What occupied her, and
made her reflections bitter, was the thought that her husband--the man
to whom she had been faithful for ten weary years--had taken himself
down off the pedestal on which she had placed him. "To make idols, and
to find them clay," she said plaintively in her own mind. Women were
all fools to spend their time and strength in constructing such
pedestals, Mrs Morgan thought to herself with bitterness; and as to
the men who were so perpetually dethroning themselves, how were they
to be designated? To think of her William, of whom she had once made a
hero, ruining thus, for a little petty malice and rivalry, the
prospects of another man! While these painful reflections were going
through her mind, she was putting away her tea-caddy, and preparing to
leave the gentlemen to their own affairs. "We shall see you at dinner