nd that
anarchy rather than liberty had prevailed in the National Church. In
darker moments it seemed to him and his friends as if any wild fancy was
tolerated, so long as it did not approximate too closely to the Old
Religion; and they grew sick at heart.

It was all the more difficult for the Rector, as he had so little
sympathy in the place; his wife did all she could to destroy friendly
relations between the Hall and the Rectory, and openly derided her
husband's prelatical leanings; the Maxwells themselves disregarded his
priestly claims, and the villagers thought of him as an official paid to
promulgate the new State religion. The only house where he found sympathy
and help was the Dower House; and as he paced up and down his garden now,
his little perplexed determined face grew brighter as he made up his mind
to see Mr. Norris again in the afternoon.

During his meditations he heard, and saw indistinctly, through the
shrubbery that fenced the lawn from the drive, a mounted man ride up to
the Rectory door. He supposed it was some message, and held himself in
readiness to be called into the house, but after a minute or two he heard
the man ride off again down the drive into the village. At dinner he
mentioned it to his wife, who answered rather shortly that it was a
message for her; and he let the matter drop for fear of giving offence;
he was terrified at the thought of provoking more quarrels than were
absolutely necessary.

Soon after dinner he put on his cap and gown, and to his wife's inquiries
told her where he was going, and that after he had seen Mr. Norris he
would step on down to Comber's, where was a sick body or two, and that
she might expect him back not earlier than five o'clock. She nodded
without speaking, and he went out. She watched him down the drive from
the dining-room window and then went back to her business with an odd
expression.

Mr. Norris, whom he found already seated at his books again after dinner,
took him out when he had heard his errand, and the two began to walk up
and down together on the raised walk that ran along under a line of pines
a little way from the house.

The Rector had seldom found his friend more sympathetic and tender; he
knew very well that their intellectual and doctrinal standpoints were
different, but he had not come for anything less than spiritual help, and
that he found. He told him all his heart, and then waited, while the
other, with his thin hands clas