seeing her amid his ministrations almost daily. And never during these
days did he say a word to her of his love--never since that day in which
he had plainly pleaded his cause in the muddy lane. To no one but
Florence Burton had he since spoken of it, and Florence had certainly
been true to her trust; but, notwithstanding all that, Fanny's
conviction was very strong.

Florence had counselled Mr. Saul to try again, and Mr. Saul was prepared
to make the attempt; but he was a man who allowed himself to do nothing
in a hurry. He thought much of the matter before he could prepare
himself to recur to the subject; doubting, sometimes, whether he would
be right to do so without first speaking to Fanny's father; doubting,
afterward, whether he might not best serve his cause by asking the
assistance of Fanny's mother. But he resolved at last that he would
depend on himself alone. As to the rector, if his suit to Fanny were a
fault against Mr. Clavering as Fanny's father, that fault had been
already committed. But Mr. Saul would not admit himself that it was a
fault. I fancy that he considered himself to have, as a gentleman, a
right to address himself to any lady with whom he was thrown into close
contact. I fancy that he ignored all want of worldly preparation--never
for a moment attempting to place himself on a footing with men who were
richer than himself; and, as the world goes, brighter, but still feeling
himself to be in no way lower than they. If any woman so lived as to
show that she thought his line better than their line, it was open to
him to ask such a woman to join her lot to his. If he failed, the
misfortune was his; and the misfortune, as he well knew, was one which
it was hard to bear. And as to the mother, though he had learned to love
Mrs. Clavering dearly--appreciating her kindness to all those around
her, her conduct to her husband, her solicitude in the parish, all her
genuine goodness, still he was averse to trust to her for any part of
his success. Though Mr. Saul was no knight, though he had nothing
knightly about him, though he was a poor curate in very rusty clothes
and with manner strangely unfitted for much communion with the outer
world, still he had a feeling that the spoil which he desired to win
should be won by his own spear, and that his triumph would lose half its
glory if it were not achieved by his own prowess. He was no coward, even
in such matters as this, or in any other. When circumstanc