ate the stranger in a disagreeable way with Mr Wentworth. Before
they came to that, the people in Grange Lane bethought themselves of
all Mrs Hadwin's connections, to find out if there might not be some
of them under hiding; and, of course, that excellent woman had a
nephew or two whose conduct was not perfect; and then it came to
be reported that it was Mr Wentworth's brother--that it was an
unfortunate college chum of his--that it was somebody who had
speculated, and whom the Curate had gone shares with: but, in the mean
time, no real information could be obtained about this mysterious
stranger. The butcher's boy, whose senses were quickened by mingled
admiration and envy, heard him whistling all day long, sometimes
hidden among the trees in the garden, sometimes from the open window
of the green room, where, indeed, Lady Western's page was ready to
take his oath he had once seen the audacious unknown leaning out in
the twilight, smoking a pipe. But no trap of conversation, however
ingenious--and many traps were laid for Mr Wentworth--ever elicited
from the Perpetual Curate any acknowledgment of the other lodger's
existence. The young Anglican opened his fine eyes a little wider than
usual when he was asked sympathetically whether so many people in the
house did not interfere with his quiet. "Mrs Hadwin's talk is very
gentle," said the Curate; "she never disturbs me." And the mistress of
the house was equally obtuse, and would not comprehend any allusion.
The little household came to be very much talked of in Carlingford in
consequence; and to meet that shabby figure in the evening, when one
chanced to be out for a walk, made one's company sought after in the
best circles of society: though the fact is, that people began to be
remiss in calling upon Mrs Hadwin, and a great many only left their
cards as soon as it became evident that she did not mean to give any
explanation. To have the Curate to stay with her was possible, without
infringing upon her position; but matters became very different when
she showed herself willing to take "any one," even when in equivocal
apparel and patched boots.

Probably the Curate had his own troubles during this period of his
history. He was noticed to be a little quick and short in his temper for
some time after Easter. For one thing, his aunts did not go away; they
stayed in the Blue Boar, and sent for him to dinner, till the Curate's
impatience grew almost beyond bearing. It was a