ng here. She says it's not reverent."

A charming young lady of some twenty years was coming up the path. She
wore a scarlet cloak, its hood lined with white silk; a straw hat shaded
her fair face, blushing very much just now; in her dark-grey eyes might
be read vexation, as she addressed Mr. Grame.

"I hope Kate has not been rude? I hope you will excuse her heedlessness
in this place. She is but a little girl."

"It's only the new parson, Lucy," broke in Kate without ceremony. "He
says his name's Robert Grame."

"Oh, Kate, don't! How shall we ever teach you manners?" reprimanded the
young lady in much distress. "She has been greatly indulged, sir,"
turning to the clergyman.

"I can well understand that," he said, with a bright smile. "I presume
that I have the honour of speaking to the daughter of my patron--Captain
Monk?"

"No; Captain Monk is my uncle: I am Lucy Carradyne."

As the young clergyman stood, hat in hand, a feeling came over him that
he had never seen so sweet a face as the one he was looking at. Miss
Lucy Carradyne was saying to herself, "What a nice countenance he has!
What kindly, earnest eyes!"

"This little lady tells me her name is Kate."

"Kate Dancox," said Lucy, as the child danced away. "Her mamma was
Captain Monk's eldest daughter; she died when Kate was born. My uncle is
very fond of Kate; he will hardly have her controlled at all."

"I have been in to see my church! John Cale has been doing its honours
for me," smiled Mr. Grame. "It is a pretty little edifice."

"Yes, and I hope you will like it; I hope you will like the parish,"
frankly returned Lucy.

"I shall be sure to do that, I think. As soon, at least, as I can feel
convinced that it is to be really mine," he added, with a quaint
expression. "When I heard, a week ago, that Captain Monk had presented
me--an entire stranger to him--with the living of Church Leet, I could
not believe it. It is not often that a nameless curate, without
influence, is spontaneously remembered."

"It is not much of a living," said Lucy, meeting the words half
jestingly. "Worth, I believe, but about a hundred and sixty pounds
a-year."

"But that is a great rise for me--and I have a house to myself large
and beautiful--and am a Vicar and no longer a curate," he returned,
laughingly. "I cannot _imagine_, though, how Captain Monk came to give
it me. Have you any idea how it was, Miss Carradyne?"

Lucy's face flushed. She could not tell this gen