l
habits, nor had any hindrance come in their way, Mr. Egremont
apparently acquiescing in what he never shared. But these things
seemed, in Ursula's mind, to have sunk out of the proportion they held
at Bridgefield, no longer to be the spirit of a life, but mere Sunday
duties and occupations.

Was this wicked world getting a hold of the poor child? Which was
duty? which was the world? This was the thought that perplexed Alice,
too simple as yet to perceive that Ursula's former absorption had been
in the interests that surrounded her and her companions, exactly as
they were at present, and that the real being had yet to work itself
out.

For herself, Alice did not think at all. She was rejoicing in her
restored husband, and his evident affection. Her duty towards him was
in her eyes plain. She saw, of course, that he had no religion, but
she accepted the fact like that of bad weather; she loved him, and she
loved her daughter; she said her prayers with all her heart for them,
she hoped, and she did her best, without trying to go below the surface.

There was the Rectory gate wide open. There was Basil rushing up to
greet his dear Aunt Alice, there were all the windows and doors of the
Rectory open, and the nearer slopes covered with chairs and seats of
all dimensions, some under trees, some umbelliferous, and glowing
Afghan rugs, or spotted skins spread for those who preferred the
ground. There was Blanche flitting about wild with excitement, and
pouncing on Nuttie to admire her outfit, and reiterate instructions;
there were the two younger girls altering the position of chairs
according to their mother's directions; there were actually two
guests--not very alarming ones, only the curate and his wife, both
rather gaunt, bony people. He was button-holing the Canon, and she was
trying to do the same by the Canoness about some parish casualty. The
Canon hoped to escape in the welcome to his sister-in-law and niece,
but he was immediately secured again, while his wife found it requisite
to hurry off else where, leaving Mrs. Edwards to tell her story to Mrs.
Egremont. In point of fact, Alice really liked the good lady, was
quite at ease with her, and felt parish concerns a natural element, so
that she gave full heed and attention to the cruelty of Mrs. Parkins'
depriving Betsy Butter (with an old father and mother to support) of
her family washing, on the ground of a missing pocket handkerchief, the
which Mrs. E