e education of his boy, who
possessed a much larger amount of general knowledge than most lads of
his age. The principal people in the parish attended the coffin of
their late vicar to the grave. They had not far to go from the vicarage
to the churchyard.

Farmer Rowe, who lived near, at Fenside Farm, had been the faithful
friend of Mr Hartley from the time of his first coming to the parish,
and taking him by the hand, followed as a mourner. Owen bore up during
the ceremony, but on returning to his desolate home, at length gave way
to the grief which was well-nigh breaking his young heart.

"Don't take on so, Master Owen," cried Jane, leading him to his little
room; "he who is gone would not wish you to grieve. He is happy, depend
upon it, and he wants you to be happy too. We shall have to leave this,
I am afraid, for they will not let you take your father's place, seeing
you are somewhat young, otherwise I am sure you could do it. You read
so beautiful like, and I would rather hear a sermon from you than any
one."

Owen shook his head.

"No, Jane, I should have to go to college first; a person must be
regularly ordained before he could come and preach in our church."

Still Jane was not convinced on that point, and she inquired from Farmer
Rowe whether he could get Master Owen made vicar in his fathers stead.

"That is impossible, Jane," answered the farmer, smiling. "We will,
however, do our best for the boy; we must look into the state of his
affairs, for I can hear of no kindred of his who are likely to do so."

Owen was allowed to remain at the vicarage longer than might have been
expected. It was not easy to find a successor to Mr Hartley. The
place had a bad name, few incumbents had lived long there. The
tradesmen of Reston, the neighbouring town, however, somewhat hesitated
about supplying Jane with provisions.

"But there is the furniture," she answered, "and that will sell for I
don't know how much; it is very beautiful and kept carefully."

In Jane's eyes it might have been so, as it was superior to what she had
seen in her mother's humble cottage. In the meantime she employed
herself in preparing a proper suit of mourning for Owen.

"The dear boy will have to go out among strangers, and he shall be well
dressed, at all events," she observed as she stitched away at his
garments. She had to work up all sorts of old materials. Her own small
wages were due, but of that she thought not; he