er fellow-creatures around her.

Shirley placed at her disposal L300, and at sight of the money Miss
Ainley's eyes filled with joyful tears; for she already saw the hungry
fed, the naked clothed, the sick comforted thereby. She quickly drew up
a simple, sensible plan for its expenditure; and she assured them
brighter times would now come round, for she doubted not the lady of
Fieldhead's example would be followed by others. She should try to get
additional subscriptions, and to form a fund; but first she must consult
the clergy. Yes, on that point she was peremptory. Mr. Helstone, Dr.
Boultby, Mr. Hall, _must_ be consulted (for not only must Briarfield be
relieved, but Whinbury and Nunnely). It would, she averred, be
presumption in her to take a single step unauthorized by them.

The clergy were sacred beings in Miss Ainley's eyes; no matter what
might be the insignificance of the individual, his station made him
holy. The very curates--who, in their trivial arrogance, were hardly
worthy to tie her patten-strings, or carry her cotton umbrella, or check
woollen shawl--she, in her pure, sincere enthusiasm, looked upon as
sucking saints. No matter how clearly their little vices and enormous
absurdities were pointed out to her, she could not see them; she was
blind to ecclesiastical defects; the white surplice covered a multitude
of sins.

Shirley, knowing this harmless infatuation on the part of her
recently-chosen prime minister, stipulated expressly that the curates
were to have no voice in the disposal of the money, that their meddling
fingers were not to be inserted into the pie. The rectors, of course,
must be paramount, and they might be trusted. They had some experience,
some sagacity, and Mr. Hall, at least, had sympathy and loving-kindness
for his fellow-men; but as for the youth under them, they must be set
aside, kept down, and taught that subordination and silence best became
their years and capacity.

It was with some horror Miss Ainley heard this language. Caroline,
however, interposing with a mild word or two in praise of Mr Sweeting,
calmed her again. Sweeting was, indeed, her own favourite. She
endeavoured to respect Messrs. Malone and Donne, but the slices of
sponge-cake and glasses of cowslip or primrose wine she had at different
times administered to Sweeting, when he came to see her in her little
cottage, were ever offered with sentiments of truly motherly regard. The
same innocuous collation she h