riel should gift her with such a quality
showed how green and innocent he was as regards the sex.

The church in which he preached was an ancient building at the foot of
the hill, crowned by the cathedral. It was built of rough, grey stone,
in the Norman style of architecture, and very little had been done to
adorn it either within or without, as the worshippers were few and poor,
and Low Church in their tendencies. Those who liked pomp and colour and
ritual could find all three in the minster, so there was no necessity to
hold elaborate services in this grey, cold, little chapel. In her heart
Bell preferred the cathedral with its music and choir, its many
celebrants and fashionable congregation, but out of diplomacy she came
to sit under Gabriel and follow him as her spiritual guide.
Nevertheless, she thought less of him in this capacity, than as a future
husband likely to raise her to a position worthy of her beauty and
merits, of both of which she entertained a most excellent opinion.

As usual, the pews were half empty, but Gabriel, being a devout parson,
performed the service with much earnestness. He read the lessons, lent
his voice to the assistance of the meagre choir, and preached a short
but sensible discourse which pleased everyone. Bell did not hear much of
it, for her mind was busy with hopes that Gabriel would shortly induce
his father to receive her as a daughter-in-law. It is true that she saw
difficulties in the way, but, to a clever woman like herself, she did
not think them unconquerable. Having gone so far as to engage herself to
the young man, she was determined to go to the whole length and benefit
as much as possible for her sacrifice--as she thought it--of accepting
the somewhat trying position of a curate's wife. With her bold good
looks and aggressive love of dress and amusement, Bell was hardly the
type likely to do credit to a parsonage. But any doubts on that score
never entered her vain mind.

When the service was over, and the sparse congregation had dwindled
away, she went round to the vestry and asked Jarper, the cross old
verger, if she could see Mr Pendle. Jarper, who took a paternal interest
in the curate, and did not like Miss Mosk over much, since she stinted
him of his full measure of beer when he patronised her father's hotel,
replied in surly tones that Mr Pendle was tired and would see no one.

'But I must see him,' persisted Bell, who was as obstinate as a mule.
'My mother i