The Warden
bul
when after making such payments as he could do unassisted, he found that he was a debtor of more than three hundred pounds; but his sufferings then were as nothing to his present misery;-then he had done wrong, and he knew it, and was able to resolve that he would not sin in like
d that the animosity with which they had been pursued was venomous and unjust; but he had not the less regarded their plight as most miserable. His hair had stood on end and his flesh had crept as he read the things which had been written; he had wondered how men could live under such a load of disgrace; how they could face their fellow-creatures while their names were bandied about so injuriously and so p
rom seeing that he was disturbed; and in a little while she followed him. She found him seated in his accustomed chair with no book open before him, no pen ready in his hand, no ill-shapen notes of blotted mu
said; "leave me, my darling, fo
n he had sat a while, thus alone and unoccupied, he got up to walk again;-he could make more of his t
tone that for him was sharp,
d the old bedesman, touching his hat; "and to inquir
ut his hand to his foreh
road somehow that the archdeacon has had down great news from London, and Handy and Moody are both as black as devils. And I hope," said the man, try
sh there ma
r reverence?" said the o
head impatiently. Poor Bunce little
glad to know it," said he, with a tone of affection
r old friend, there is nothing; there is no news to cheer me;-God's will be done":
nd I came to wish your reverence joy; but God's will be done;" and so the warden again walked on, and the bed
ly on the garden seats, and then walking again. And Eleanor, hidden behind the muslin curtains of the window, watched him through the trees as he now came in sight,
es, saw that all was not right, and was more demure than ever: neither father nor daughter coul
said Eleanor, thinking that the company
re not you going out, Eleanor, this lovely
ou seemed so
sadness here; I am not more exempt than another: but kiss me, deares
e now was not to find him happy, but to be allowed to share his sorrow
es, and seconding at that great national meeting at the Crown and Anchor a resolution to the effect, that no clergyman of the Church of England, be he who he might, should have more than a thousand a year, and none less than two hundred and fifty. His speech on this occasion was short, for fifteen had to speak, and the room was hired for two hours only, at the ex
out considering them; his easy days, his absence of all kind of hard work, his pleasant shady home, those twelve old neighbours whose welfare till now had been the source of so much pleasant care, the excellence of his children, the friendship of the dear old bishop, the solemn grandeur of those vaulted aisles, through which he loved to hear his own voice pealing; and then that friend of friends, that choice ally that had never deserted him, that eloquent companion that would always, when asked, discourse such pleasant music, that violoncello of his;-ah, how happy he had been! but it was
ng hardly moved a limb for two hours, when Eleanor came back to t
en, who had hitherto eaten nothing all day, devoured the pla
she hardly knew how to commence: she must wait till the urn wa
closed; then Eleanor, getting up and going round to her father, put h
at is, m
torments you; I know y
metimes;" and he tried to smile, but it was a ghastly failure; "bu
mes would in their gayest moods, and with her arm round his neck, she said: "Papa, I will not leave
but still he said nothing: it was so hard to him to speak of
in London, and what that cruel newspaper has said; but if there be such cause for sorrow, let
ay, but he held his child close to his heart, and squeezed her hand as a lover might, and she kisse
why should you too be unhappy before it is necessary? It may come to that, that we mu
hearts elsewhere: if that be all, let us go. Oh, papa, you and I could
elder of the tomahawk who had dared to write such things of him in The Jupiter; that he could leave Sir Abraham, and the archdeacon, and Bold, and the rest of them with their lawsuit among them, and wipe his hands altogether of so sorrow-stirring a concern. Ah, what happiness might there be in the distance, with Eleanor and him in some
his knees and standing on her feet before him,
e archdeacon came back upon our poor warden, and he reflected that he could not stir from his now hated post. He was as a man bound with iron, fettered
be happy without a pony-carriage and a fine drawing-room? Papa, I never can be happy here, as long as there is a question as to your honour in staying here; but I could be gay as the day is long in the smallest
nd, at length, with unsparing detail of circumstances, he told her all that he wished, and all that he could not do. He repeated those arguments of the archdeacon, not agreeing in their truth, but explaining his inability to escape from them;-how it had been declared to him that he was bound to remain where he was by the interests of his order, by gratitude to the bishop, by the wishes of his friends, by a sense of duty, which, though he could not und
he inmost corners of his heart to her. They spoke together of the archdeacon, as two children might of a stern, unpopular, but
en them, she owned how well she had learned to love him,-"had loved him once," she said, "but she would not, could not do so now-no, even had her troth been plighted to him, she w
cast him off; and then he spoke to her of happier days when their trials would all be over; and declared that her young heart should not be torn asunder
such mutual confidence give consolation!-and with a last expression of