d should not
complain."

"I did not know that there was anything disagreeable."

"There is this, Adela. I had rather tell you; and I came over to-day
in part to do so: but you will see that the matter is one that should
not be talked about," and he looked down on the floor, poking about
on the carpet pattern with his stick, being unable any longer to meet
the clear gaze of her soft eye.

"Oh, I am sorry if there is anything to distress you."

"Not exactly to distress me, perhaps; but I will tell you. When the
marquis offered me the living, he did it on the stipulation that I
should pay over to my mother three hundred and fifty pounds a year
during her life. I doubt whether it was right to accept it on these
conditions; but I did so. The living, therefore, is rather hers than
mine."

"Oh, Arthur, how good of you!" In spite of all Aunt Penelope's
lessons, old habits would sometimes get the better of her.

"I don't know; I am afraid that it was not good."

"Why? I can't understand? Surely it must be good to give up your
time, your labour, your hopes"--Adela did not say his heart--"for
your mother and sisters' good! Why, how can it be else than good? I
think it good, and shall think so."

"At any rate, Adela, I could not withstand the offer when it was made
to me."

"I am sure you could not."

"So I am little more than a curate in the parish as far as the income
is concerned; with this difference, that I can't change my curacy for
a living should a chance offer."

Adela had never before known him to be solicitous about money for
himself, and now she felt that she did not understand him. "But you
have got your fellowship," said she.

"Yes, I have got my fellowship: oh, as far as that is concerned, I am
better off than I could ever have expected to be. But, nevertheless,
one feels--feels crippled by such an arrangement. It is quite
impossible, you know, for instance, that--that--that I should do a
great many things." His courage failed him as he was about to make
the fatal announcement.

"What things?" said Adela, with all the boldness of innocence.

It was necessary that he should say it. "Why, for instance," he
continued, "it is quite impossible, though perhaps that does not make
much matter; but it is quite impossible--that I should ever marry."
And still looking down upon the ground, he poked sedulously among the
patterns with his stick.

"Oh!" said Adela, with a tremour in her voice, and her eye was