had seen it, had told him
of this. "I understand it all, old fellow," Fenwick had said to his
friend, "and know very well I have got to choose between two things.
I must be called a hypocrite, or else I must be one. I have no doubt
that as years go on with me I shall see the advantage of choosing the
latter." There were at that time frequent discussions between them
on the same subject, for they were friends who could dare to discuss
each other's modes of life; but the reader need not be troubled
further now with this digression. The position which the Vicar held
in the estimation of the Marquis of Trowbridge will probably be
sufficiently well understood.

The family at Turnover Park would have thought it a great blessing
to have had a clergyman at Bullhampton with whom they could have
cordially co-operated; but, failing this, they had taken Mr.
Puddleham, the Methodist minister, to their arms. From Mr. Puddleham
they learned parish facts and parish fables, which would never have
reached them but for his assistance. Mr. Fenwick was well aware of
this, and used to declare that he had no objection to it. He would
protest that he could not see why Mr. Puddleham should not get along
in the parish just as well as himself, he having, and meaning to
keep to himself, the slight advantages of the parish church, the
vicarage-house, and the small tithes. Of this he was quite sure, that
Mr. Puddleham's religious teaching was better than none at all; and
he was by no means convinced,--so he said,--that, for some of his
parishioners, Mr. Puddleham was not a better teacher than he himself.
He always shook hands with Mr. Puddleham, though Mr. Puddleham
would never look him in the face, and was quite determined that Mr.
Puddleham should not be a thorn in his side.

In this matter of Sam Brattle's imprisonment and now intended
liberation, tidings from the parish were doubtless conveyed by Mr.
Puddleham to Turnover,--probably not direct, but still in such a
manner that the great people at Turnover knew to whom they were
indebted. Now Mr. Gilmore had certainly, from the first, been by no
means disposed to view favourably the circumstances attaching to
Sam Brattle on that Saturday night. When the great blow fell on the
Brattle family, his demeanour to them was changed, and he forgave
the miller's contumacy; but he had always thought that Sam had been
guilty. The parson had from the first regarded the question with
great doubt, but, never