isappointed,--but dismayed and bewildered by advice the very
opposite to that which she had expected. It was perplexing, but she
seemed to be aware that she had no alternative now, but to fight the
battle on Rachel's side. She had cut herself off from all anchorage
except that given by Mr. Comfort, and therefore it behoved her to
cling to that with absolute tenacity. Rachel must go to the party,
even though Dorothea should carry out her threat. On that night
nothing more was said about Dorothea, and Mrs. Ray allowed herself to
be gradually drawn into a mild discussion about Rachel's dress.

But there was nearly a week left to them of this sort of life. Early
on the following morning Mrs. Prime left the cottage, saying that she
should dine with Miss Pucker, and betook herself at once to a small
house in a back street of the town, behind the new church, in which
lived Mr. Prong. Have I as yet said that Mr. Prong was a bachelor?
Such was the fact; and there were not wanting those in Baslehurst who
declared that he would amend the fault by marrying Mrs. Prime. But
this rumour, if it ever reached her, had no effect upon her. The
world would be nothing to her if she were to be debarred by the
wickedness of loose tongues from visiting the clergyman of her
choice. She went, therefore, in her present difficulty to Mr. Prong.

Mr. Samuel Prong was a little man, over thirty, with scanty,
light-brown hair, with a small, rather upturned nose, with eyes by no
means deficient in light and expression, but with a mean mouth. His
forehead was good, and had it not been for his mouth his face would
have been expressive of intellect and of some firmness. But there
was about his lips an assumption of character and dignity which
his countenance and body generally failed to maintain; and there
was a something in the carriage of his head and in the occasional
projection of his chin, which was intended to add to his dignity, but
which did, I think, only make the failure more palpable. He was a
devout, good man; not self-indulgent; perhaps not more self-ambitious
than it becomes a man to be; sincere, hard-working, sufficiently
intelligent, true in most things to the instincts of his
calling,--but deficient in one vital qualification for a clergyman of
the Church of England; he was not a gentleman. May I not call it a
necessary qualification for a clergyman of any church? He was not a
gentleman. I do not mean to say that he was a thief or a liar;