g leisure, mostly novels, out of the rector's
library. He had a whole set of Miss Edgeworth, and nearly all of Miss
Austen and Miss Gurney, and he gave of them to Clementina, as the best
thing for her mind as well as her morals; he believed nothing could be
better for any one than these old English novels, which he had nearly
forgotten in their details. She colored the faded English life of the
stories afresh from her Yankee circumstance; and it seemed the consensus
of their testimony that she had really been made love to, and not so
very much too soon, at her age of sixteen, for most of their heroines
were not much older. The terms of Gregory's declaration and of its
withdrawal were mystifying, but not more mystifying than many such
things, and from what happened in the novels she read, the affair might
be trusted to come out all right of itself in time. She was rather
thoughtfuller for it, and once her mother asked her what was the matter
with her. "Oh, I guess I'm getting old, motha," she said, and turned
the question off. She would not have minded telling her mother about
Gregory, but it would not have been the custom; and her mother would
have worried, and would have blamed him. Clementina could have more
easily trusted her father with the case, but so far as she knew fathers
never were trusted with anything of the kind. She would have been
willing that accident should bring it to the knowledge of Mrs. Richling;
but the moment never came when she could voluntarily confide in
her, though she was a great deal with her that winter. She was Mrs.
Richling's lieutenant in the social affairs of the parish, which the
rector's wife took under her care. She helped her get up entertainments
of the kind that could be given in the church parlor, and they managed
together some dances which had to be exiled to the town hall. They
contrived to make the young people of the village feel that they were
having a gay time, and Clementina did not herself feel that it was a
dull one. She taught them some of the new steps and figures which the
help used to pick up from the summer folks at the Middlemount, and
practise together; she liked doing that; her mother said the child would
rather dance than eat, any time. She was never sad, but so much dignity
got into her sweetness that the rector now and then complained of
feeling put down by her.

She did not know whether she expected Gregory to write to her or not;
but when no letters came she