table cheque of the firm would come punctually to hand on
the first Saturday after Christmas.

But such a house as his would be, as he knew, but a poor residence
for his wife's nieces. Indeed, without positively saying that he
was unwilling to receive them, he had, when he first heard of the
breaking up of the house in Curzon Street, shewn that he would rather
not take upon his shoulders so great a responsibility. He and his
wife had discussed the matter between them, and had come to the
conclusion that they did not know what kind of things might have been
done in Curzon Street. They would think no evil, they said; but the
very idea of a married woman with a lover was dreadful to them. It
might be that their niece was free from blame. They hoped so. And
even though her sin had been of ever so deep a dye, they would take
her in,--if it were indeed necessary. But they hoped that such help
from them might not be needed. They both knew how to give counsel to
a poor woman, how to rebuke a poor man,--how to comfort, encourage,
or to upbraid the poor. Practice had told them how far they might go
with some hope of doing good;--and at what stage of demoralisation
no good from their hands was any longer within the scope of fair
expectation. But all this was among the poor. With what words to
encourage such a one as their niece Mrs. Trevelyan,--to encourage her
or to rebuke her, as her conduct might seem to make necessary,--they
both felt that they were altogether ignorant. To them Mrs. Trevelyan
was a fine lady. To Mr. Outhouse, Sir Marmaduke had ever been a fine
gentleman, given much to worldly things, who cared more for whist and
a glass of wine than for anything else, and who thought that he had
a good excuse for never going to church in England because he was
called upon, as he said, to show himself in the governor's pew always
once on Sundays, and frequently twice, when he was at the seat of his
government. Sir Marmaduke manifestly looked upon church as a thing
in itself notoriously disagreeable. To Mr. Outhouse it afforded the
great events of the week. And Mrs. Outhouse would declare that to
hear her husband preach was the greatest joy of her life. It may
be understood therefore that though the family connection between
the Rowleys and the Outhouses had been kept up with a semblance of
affection, it had never blossomed forth into cordial friendship.

When therefore the clergyman of St. Diddulph's received a letter from
hi