before yesterday,
and decorated with all sorts of painted windows, carved saints' heads,
gilt scripture texts, and open pews. Blanche began forthwith to work a
most correct high-church altar-cover for the church. She passed for a
saint with the clergyman for a while, whom she quite took in, and
whom she coaxed, and wheedled, and fondled so artfully, that poor Mrs.
Smirke, who at first was charmed with her, then bore with her, then
would hardly speak to her, was almost mad with jealousy. Mrs. Smirke was
the wife of our old friend Smirke, Pen's tutor and poor Helen's suitor.
He had consoled himself for her refusal with a young lady from Clapham
whom his mamma provided. When the latter died, our friend's views became
every day more and more pronounced. He cut off his coat collar, and let
his hair grow over his back. He rigorously gave up the curl which he
used to sport on his forehead, and the tie of his neckcloth, of which he
was rather proud. He went without any tie at all. He went without dinner
on Fridays. He read the Roman Hours, and intimated that he was ready
to receive confessions in the vestry. The most harmless creature in the
world, he was denounced as a black and most dangerous Jesuit and Papist,
by Muffin of the Dissenting chapel, and Mr. Simeon Knight at the old
church. Mr. Smirke had built his chapel-of-ease with the money left him
by his mother at Clapham. Lord! lord! what would she have said to hear a
table called an altar! to see candlesticks on it! to get letters
signed on the Feast of Saint So-and-so, or the Vigil of Saint
What-do-you-call-'em! All these things did the boy of Clapham practise;
his faithful wife following him. But when Blanche had a conference of
near two hours in the vestry with Mr. Smirke, Belinda paced up and down
on the grass, where there were only two little grave-stones as yet; she
wished that she had a third there: only, only he would offer very likely
to that creature, who had infatuated him in a fortnight. No, she would
retire; she would go into a convent, and profess and leave him. Such
bad thoughts had Smirke's wife and his neighbours regarding him; these,
thinking him in direct correspondence with the Bishop of Rome; that,
bewailing errors to her even more odious and fatal; and yet our friend
meant no earthly harm. The post-office never brought him any letters
from the Pope; he thought Blanche, to be sure, at first, the most pious,
gifted, right-thinking, fascinating person he