down the aisle,
and I felt a great sense of relief and satisfaction. We were out in the
open air once more, and I had triumphed; I was quite sure that she would
tell the first person she met, for, as I have said before, she was
entirely taken up with me, and to have kept me to herself would have
required far more strength and unselfishness than she at that moment
possessed. She walked slowly through the churchyard, feeling much
pleased to see that the curate had just left the vestry door, and that in
a few moments their paths must converge.

Mr. Blackthorne had only been ordained three or four years, and was a
little younger, and much less experienced in the ways of the world, than
Sigismund Zaluski. He was a good well-meaning fellow, a little narrow, a
little prejudiced, a little spoiled by the devotion of the district
visitors and Sunday School teachers; but he was honest and energetic, and
as a worker among the poor few could have equalled him. He seemed to
fancy, however, that with the poor his work ended, and he was not always
so wise as he might have been in Muddleton society.

"Good afternoon, Miss Houghton," he exclaimed. "Do you happen to know if
your brother is at home? I want just to speak to him about the choir
treat."

"Oh, he is sure to be in by this time," said Lena.

And they walked home together.

"I am so glad to have this chance of speaking to you," she began rather
nervously. "I wanted particularly to ask your advice."

Mr. Blackthorne, being human and young, was not unnaturally flattered by
this remark. True, he was becoming well accustomed to this sort of
thing, since the ladies of Muddleton were far more fond of seeking advice
from the young and good-looking curate than from the elderly and
experienced rector. They said it was because Mr. Blackthorne was so much
more sympathetic, and understood the difficulties of the day so much
better; but I think they unconsciously deceived themselves, for the
rector was one of a thousand, and the curate, though he had in him the
makings of a fine man, was as yet altogether crude and young.

"Was it about anything in your district?" he asked, devoutly hoping that
she was not going to propound some difficult question about the origin of
evil, or any other obscure subject. For though he liked the honour of
being consulted, he did not always like the trouble it involved, and he
remembered with a shudder that Miss Houghton had once asked him his
o