in, that should it
ever seem to her to be her duty to accept the other man, she would
first explain to him clearly the position in which she found herself.
At last the whole matter resolved itself to this;--was it possible
for her to divest her idea of life of all romance, and to look for
contentment and satisfaction in the performance of duties to others?
The prospect of an old maid's life at Loring was not pleasant to her
eyes; but she would bear that, and worse than that, rather than do
wrong. It was, however, so hard for her to know what was right and
what was wrong! Supposing that she were to consent to marry Mr.
Gilmore, would she be forsworn when at the altar she promised to love
him? All her care would be henceforth for him, all her heart, as far
as she could command her heart, and certainly all her truth. There
should not be a secret of her mind hidden from him. She would force
herself to love him, and to forget that other man. He should be the
object of all her idolatry. She would, in that case, do her very
utmost to reward him for the constancy of the affection with which he
had regarded her; and yet, as she was driven in at the vicarage gate,
she told herself that it would have been better for her to remain at
Loring.

During the first evening Mr. Gilmore's name was not mentioned. There
were subjects enough for conversation, as the period was one of great
excitement in Bullhampton.

"What did you think of our chapel?" asked Mrs. Fenwick.

"I had no idea it was so big."

"Why, they are not going to leave us a single soul to go to church.
Mr. Puddleham means to make a clean sweep of the parish."

"You don't mean to say that any have left you?"

"Well; none as yet," replied Mrs. Fenwick. "But then the chapel isn't
finished; and the Marquis has not yet sent his order to his tenants
to become dissenters. We expect that he will do so, unless he can
persuade the bishop to turn Frank out of the living."

"But the bishop couldn't turn him out."

"Of course, he couldn't,--and wouldn't if he could. The bishop and
Frank are the best friends in the world. But that has nothing to do
with it. You mustn't abuse the chapel to Frank; just at this moment
the subject is tabooed. My belief is that the whole edifice will have
to come down, and that the confusion of Mr. Puddleham and the Marquis
will be something more complete than ever was yet seen. In the
meantime, I put my finger to my lip, and just look at Frank when