Scenes of Clerical Life

n's clerical brethren; the more so, as I hope you are not in the least inclined to put that very evil interpretation on it which evidently found

eived than to incur a necessity for being deceitful: and if you have a keen eye for physiognomy, you will h

ets were probably falling into holes, where the attendance was limited to a maid of all work, and where six children were ru

ie in the truth with which I represent to you the humble experience of an ordinary fellow-mortal. I wish to stir your sympathy with commonplace troubles-to

tart-a predicament all the more inconvenient to her, because the habit of idleness had quite unfitted her for earning those necessary superfluities, and because, with all her fascinations, she had not secured any enthusiastic friends whose houses were open to her, and who were dying to see her. Thus she had completely checkmated herself, unless she could resolve on one unpleasant move-namely, to humble herself to her brother, and recognize his wife. T

ed, which coldly furnished forth the children's table the next day; she considerately prevented Milly from devoting herself too closely to the children, by ins

ace, he still believed in the Countess as a charming and influential woman, disposed to befriend him, and, in any case, he could hardly hint departure to a lady guest who had been kind to him and his, and who might any day spontaneously announce the termination of her visit; in the second place, he

eatened to be quite inadequate. Slander may be defeated by equanimity; but courageous thoughts will not pay your baker's bill, and fortitude is nowhere considered legal tender for beef. Month after month the financial aspect of the Rev. Amos's

uite glad to incur extra exertion for the sake of making her friend comfortable. I can hardly bear to think of all the rough work she did with those lovely hands-all by the sly, without letting her husband know anything about it, and husbands are not clairvoyant: how she salted bacon, ironed sh

lies within the four walls of her own home; and it is only through her husband that she is in any electric communication with the world beyond. Mrs. Simpkins may have looked scornfully at her, but baby crows and holds out his little arms none the less blithely; Mrs. Tomk

ys and means she felt in quite a different manner. Her rectitude was alarmed lest they should have to make tradesmen wait for their money; her

thoughts; and she began to feel that it would soon be a duty to tell her frankly that they really could not afford to have her visit far

eness was a Christian duty, that a sister should be placable, that Mr. Bridmain must feel the need of her advice, to which he had been accustomed for three years, and that ver

onsidered, was her baby, of whom she was as jealous as a lover. But she had, from the first, very slight admiration for the Countess Czerlaski. That lady, from Nanny's point of view, was a personage always 'drawed out i' fine clothes', the chief result of whose existe

ly-simply out of a taste for dialogue-looked into the vicarage kitchen of an evening. 'I know the master's shorter o' money than

,' said Mr. Tomms. 'They say as Muster Barton'

he master, as has got a wife like the missis, 'ud go running arter a stuck-up piece o' goods like that Countes

'lieve it,' said

Countess. She's niver giv me a sixpence nor an old rag neither, sin' here's she's be

occurred, you may imagine what it must have been by the beginning of November, and that at that time

nny's dislike of the Countess extended to the innocent dog Jet, whom she 'couldn't a-bear to see made a fuss wi' like a Chris

and susceptible. But the Countess, comfortably ignorant of them, came down as usual about eleven o'clock to her separate breakfast, which stood ready for her at that hour in the parlour; the kettle singing on the hob that she might make her

g him down gently on the hearth-rug, '

the side of the cream, and destined for Jet's breakfast, but this morning Nanny, being 'moithered', had forgotten that part of the arrangements, so that when the Countess had made her tea, she perceived there was no second jug, and rang the bell. Nanny

ds full o' the children an' the dinner, and missis ill a-bed, and Mr. Brand a-comin'; and I mus

. Barto

. She's likely to be ill, moithered as she is from mo

ean by behavin

in' up o'nights, for folks as are better able to wait of her, i'stid

om and don't

at some folks is,-a-livin' on other folks, an'

leaving the lady to digest this un

an entirely new light. The interpretation too of Nanny's allusion to a 'bad name' did not lie out of the reach of the Countess's imagination, and she saw the necessity of quitting Shepperton without delay. Still, she

eration, dear Milly, from the letter I had yesterday, that I must bid you good-bye an

I shall be very well in an hour or two. Indeed, I'm much better now. You

p me to pack, so don't entertain any unreasonable proj

tray themselves to men as they do to each other; and the Rev. Amos had not a keen instinct for character. But he felt that he was being relieved from a difficulty, and in the way that was easiest for him. Neither he nor Milly suspected that it was Nanny who had cut t

he hand to Mr. Barton, and last kisses to Milly and the children, the door was closed; and as the fly rolled off, the little party at the Vicarage gate caught a last glimpse of the handsome Countess l

e close of the morning school-hours. Nanny poured the joyful tidings into the ear of Mr. Farquhar's footman, who happened to call with a letter, and Mr. Brand carried them to all the p

Milly's health gave frequent cause for alarm, and the prospect of baby's birth was overshadowed by more than the usual fears. The birth came prematurely, about six weeks after the Countess's departure, but Mr. Brand gave favourable reports to all inquirers on the following day, which was Saturday. On Sunday, after morning service, Mrs. Hackit called at the Vicarage to inquire how Mrs. Barton was, and was invited up-