s," said Job, "for they
are transitory pleasures, and we enjoy what we produce; but why I should
restore a chapel in a house which does not belong to myself is not so
clear to me."

"But it should belong to yourself," rejoined the archbishop. "Hurstley
is not in the market, but it is to be purchased. Take it altogether,
I have always thought it one of the most enviable possessions in the
world. The house, when put in order, would be one of the ornaments of
the kingdom. The acreage, though considerable, is not overwhelming, and
there is a range of wild country of endless charm. I wandered about it
in my childhood and my youth, and I have never known anything equal to
it. Then as to the soil and all that, you know it. You are a son of
the soil. You left it for great objects, and you have attained those
objects. They have given you fame as well as fortune. There would be
something wonderfully dignified and graceful in returning to the land
after you have taken the principal part in solving the difficulties
which pertained to it, and emancipating it from many perils."

"I am sure it would be the happiest day of my life, if Job would
purchase Hurstley," said Mrs. Thornberry.

"I should like to go to Oxford, and my father purchase Hurstley," said
the young gentleman. "If we have not landed property, I would sooner
have none. If we have not land, I should like to go into the Church, and
if I may not go to Oxford, I would go to Cuddesdon at once. I know it
can be done, for I know a fellow who has done it."

Poor Job Thornberry! He had ruled multitudes, and had conquered
and commanded senates. His Sovereign had made him one of her privy
councillors, and half a million of people had returned him their
representative to parliament. And here he stood silent, and a little
confused; sapped by his wife, bullied by his son, and after having
passed a great part of his life in denouncing sacerdotalism, finding his
whole future career chalked out, without himself being consulted, by
a priest who was so polite, sensible, and so truly friendly, that his
manner seemed to deprive its victims of every faculty of retort or
repartee. Still he was going to say something when the door opened, and
Mrs. Penruddock appeared, exclaiming in a cheerful voice, "I thought
I should find you here. I would not have troubled your Grace, but
this letter marked 'private, immediate, and to be forwarded,' has been
wandering about for some time, and I thought