t half a mile.

"My mother would have been very glad if you would have stayed at the
parsonage till your aunt's return; and so would my sisters--and so
should I."

"You are all very kind--too kind," said Adela.

Then came another pause, perhaps for a quarter of a mile, but it was
up-hill work, and the quarter of a mile passed by very slowly.

"It seems so odd that you should go away from us, whom you have known
so long, to stay with Miss Todd, whom you never have even seen."

"I think change of scene will be good for me, Mr. Wilkinson."

"Well, perhaps so." And then the other quarter of a mile made away
with itself. "Come, get along, Dumpling." This was said to the fat
steed; for they had now risen to level ground.

"Our house, I know, must be very stupid for you. It is much changed
from what it was; is it not?"

"Oh, I don't know."

"Yes, it is. There is neither the same spirit, nor the same
good-will. We miss my father greatly."

"Ah, yes. I can feel for you there. It is a loss; a great loss."

"I sometimes think it unfortunate that my mother should have remained
at the vicarage after my father's death."

"You have been very good to her, I know."

"I have done my best, Adela." It was the first time she had
distinctly heard him call her by her Christian name since she had
come to stay with them. "But I have failed. She is not happy there;
nor, indeed, for that matter, am I."

"A man should be happy when he does his duty."

"We none of us do that so thoroughly as to require no other source of
happiness. Go on, Dumpling, and do your duty."

"I see that you are very careful in doing yours."

"Perhaps you will hardly believe me, but I wish Lord Stapledean had
never given me the living."

"Well; it is difficult to believe that. Think what it has been for
your sisters."

"I know we should have been very poor, but we should not have
starved. I had my fellowship, and I could have taken pupils. I am
sure we should have been happier. And then--"

"And then--well?" said Adela; and as she spoke, her heart was not
quite at rest within her breast.

"Then I should have been free. Since I took that living, I have been
a slave." Again he paused a moment, and whipped the horse; but it was
only now for a moment that he was silent. "Yes, a slave. Do you not
see what a life I live? I could be content to sacrifice myself to my
mother if the sacrifice were understood. But you see how it is with
her. Nothing that I