tleman the truth: that
another clergyman had been fixed upon, one who would have been
especially welcome to the parishioners; that Captain Monk had all but
nominated him to the living. But it chanced to reach the Captain's ears
that this clergyman had expressed his intention of holding the Communion
Service monthly, instead of quarterly as heretofore, so he put the
question to him. Finding it to be true, he withdrew his promise; he
would not have old customs broken in upon by modern innovation, he said;
and forthwith he appointed the Reverend Robert Grame.

"I do not even know how Captain Monk heard of me," continued Mr. Grame,
marking Lucy's hesitation.

"I believe you were recommended to him by one of the clergy attached to
Worcester Cathedral," said Lucy.--"And I think I must wish you
good-morning now."

But there came an interruption. A tall, stately, haughty young woman,
with an angry look upon her dark and handsome face, had entered the
churchyard, and was calling out as she advanced:

"That monkey broken loose again, I suppose, and at her pranks here! What
are you good for, Lucy, if you cannot keep her in better order? You know
I told you to go straight on to Mrs. Speck, and--"

The words died away. Mr. Grame, who had been hidden by a large upright
tombstone, emerged into view. Lucy, with another blush, spoke to cover
the awkwardness.

"This is Miss Monk," she said to him. "Eliza, it is the new clergyman,
Mr. Grame."

Miss Monk recovered her equanimity. A winning smile supplanted the anger
on her face; she held out her hand, grandly gracious. For she liked the
stranger's look: he was beyond doubt a gentleman--and an attractive man.

"Allow me to welcome you to Church Leet, Mr. Grame. My father chances to
be absent to-day; he is gone to Evesham."

"So the clerk told me, or I should have called this morning to pay my
respects to him, and to thank him for his generous and most unexpected
patronage of me. I got here last night," concluded Mr. Grame, standing
uncovered as when he had saluted Lucy. Eliza Monk liked his pleasant
voice, his taking manners: her fancy went out to him there and then.

"But though papa is absent, you will walk up with me now to the Hall to
make acquaintance with my aunt, Mrs. Carradyne," said Eliza, in those
tones that, gracious though they were, sounded in the light of a
command--just as poor Katherine's had always sounded. And Mr. Grame went
with her.

But now--handsome thoug