Perpetual
Curate had been for two whole days miserable about Skelmersdale, and
had exhausted all his powers of misery--and that now youth had turned
the tables, and he was still to see Lucy tonight.

CHAPTER VII.

"Your Rector is angry at some of your proceedings," said Miss Leonora.
"I did not think a man of your views would have cared for missionary
work. I should have supposed that you would think that vulgar, and
Low-Church, and Evangelical. Indeed, I thought I heard you say you
didn't believe in preaching, Frank?--neither do I, when a man preaches
the Tracts for the Times. I was surprised to hear what you were doing
at the place they call Wharfside."

"First let me correct you in two little inaccuracies," said Mr Wentworth,
blandly, as he peeled his orange. "The Rector of Carlingford is not _my_
rector, and I don't preach the Tracts for the Times. Let us always be
particular, my dear aunt, as to points of fact."

"Exactly so," said Miss Leonora, grimly; "but, at the same time, as
there seems no great likelihood of your leaving Carlingford, don't you
think it would be wise to cultivate friendly relations with the Rector?"
said the iron-grey inexorable aunt, looking full in his eyes as she
spoke. So significant and plain a statement took for an instant the
colour out of the Curate's cheeks--he pared his orange very carefully
while he regained his composure, and it was at least half a minute
before he found himself at leisure to reply. Miss Dora of course seized
upon the opportunity, and, by way of softening matters, interposed in
her unlucky person to make peace.

"But, my dear boy, I said I was sure you did not mean it," said Miss
Dora; "I told Mr Morgan I felt convinced it could be explained. Nobody
knows you so well as I do. You were always high-spirited from a child,
and never would give in; but I know very well you never could mean it,
Frank."

"Mean it?" said the Curate, with sparkling eyes: "what do you take me
for, aunt Dora? Do you know what it is we are talking of? The question
is, whether a whole lot of people, fathers and children, shall be left
to live like beasts, without reverence for God or man, or shall be
brought within the pale of the Church, and taught their duty? And you
think I don't mean it? I mean it as much as my brother Charley meant it
at the Redan," said young Wentworth, with a glow of suppressed enthusiasm,
and that natural pride in Charley (who got the Cross for valour) w