ay with Dorothy, she would never have gone near him,--never. But
what could I do, Mr. Comfort? Of course she can go where she likes."

"Mr. Prime was a gentleman and a Christian," said the vicar.

"That he was, Mr. Comfort; and a husband for a young woman to be
proud of. But he was soon taken away from her--very soon! and she
hasn't thought much of this world since."

"I don't know what she's thinking of now."

"It isn't of herself, Mr. Comfort; not a bit. Dorothy is very stern;
but, to give her her due, it's not herself she's thinking of."

"Why does she want to marry him, then?"

"Because he's lonely without some one to do for him."

"Lonely!--and he should be lonely for me, Mrs. Ray."

"And because she says she can work in the vineyard better as a
clergyman's wife."

"Pshaw! work in the vineyard, indeed! But it's no business of mine;
and, as you say, I suppose you can't help it."

"Indeed I can't. She'd never think of asking me."

"I hope she'll look after her money, that's all. And what's all this
about my friend Rachel? I'd a great deal sooner hear that she was
going to be married,--if I knew that the man was worthy of her."

Then Mrs. Ray put her hand into her pocket, and taking out Rowan's
letter, gave it to the vicar to read. As she did so, she looked into
his face with eyes full of the most intense anxiety. She was herself
greatly frightened by the magnitude of this marriage question.
She feared the enmity of Mrs. Rowan; and she doubted the firmness
of Luke. She could not keep herself from reflecting that a young
man from London was very dangerous; that he might probably be a
wolf; that she could not be safe in trusting her one lamb into
such custody. But, nevertheless, she most earnestly hoped that Mr.
Comfort's verdict might be in the young man's favour. If he would
only say that the young man was not a wolf,--if he would only take
upon his own clerical shoulders the responsibility of trusting the
young man,--Mrs. Ray would become for the moment one of the happiest
women in Devonshire. With what a beaming face,--with what a true
joy,--with what smiles through her tears, would she then have
welcomed Rachel back from the farm-house! How she would have watched
her as she came across the green, beckoning to her eagerly, and
telling all her happy tale beforehand by the signs of her joy! But
there was to be no such happy tale as that told on this morning. She
watched the vicar's face as he read the le