ic opinion was averse,
also, to poor Carry; and Mrs. Stiggs was becoming almost tired of her
lodger, although the payment made for her was not ungenerous and was
as punctual as the sun. In truth, the tongue of the landlady of the
Three Honest Men was potential in those parts, and was very bitter
against Sam and his sister.

In the meantime there was a matter of interest which, to our friends
at Bullhampton, exceeded even that of the Heytesbury examinations.
Mr. Gilmore was now daily at the vicarage on some new or old lover's
pretence. It might be that he stood but for a minute or two on the
terrace outside the drawing-room windows, or that he would sit with
the ladies during half the afternoon, or that he would come down to
dinner,--some excuse having arisen for an invitation to that effect
during the morning. Very little was said on the subject between Mrs.
Fenwick and Mary Lowther, and not a word between the Vicar and his
guest; but between Mr. and Mrs. Fenwick many words were spoken, and
before the first week was over they were sure that she would yield.

"I think she will," said Mrs. Fenwick;--"but she will do it in
agony."

"Then if I were Harry I would leave her alone," said the Vicar.

"But you are not Harry; and if you were, you would be wrong. She will
not be happy when she accepts him; but by the time the day fixed for
the wedding comes round, she will have reconciled herself to it, and
then she will be as loving a wife as ever a man had." But the Vicar
shook his head and said that, so far as he was concerned, love of
that sort would not have sufficed for him.

"Of course," said his wife, "it is very pleasant for a man to be told
that the woman he loves is dying for him; but men can't always have
everything that they want."

Mary Lowther at this time became subject to a feeling of shame which
almost overwhelmed her. There grew upon her a consciousness that she
had allowed herself to come to Bullhampton on purpose that she might
receive a renewed offer of marriage from her old lover, and that
she had done so because her new and favoured lover had left her. Of
course she must accept Mr. Gilmore. Of that she had now become quite
sure. She had come to Bullhampton,--so she now told herself,--because
she had been taught to believe that it would not be right for her to
abandon herself to a mode of life which was not to her taste. All the
friends in whose judgment she could confide expressed to her in every
po