That is very true. I am sure your aunt Leonora would approve of that,
dear," said Miss Dora, with a little answering pressure on her
nephew's arm--"but still I have a feeling that a clergyman should
always take care to be respectable. Not that he should neglect the
wicked," continued the poor aunt, apologetically, "for a poor sinner
turning from the evil of his ways is the--the most interesting--sight
in the world, even to the angels, you know; but to _live_ with them in
the same house, my dear--I am sure that is what I never could advise,
nor Leonora either; and Mrs Hadwin ought to know better, and have him
away. Don't you know who he is, Frank? I could not be content without
finding out, if it was me."

"I have nothing to do with him," said the Curate, hurriedly: "it is a
subject I don't want to discuss. Never mind him. What do you mean by
saying you are not going away?"

"My dear, Leonora has been thinking it all over," said Miss Dora, "and
we are so anxious about you. Leonora is very fond of you, though she
does not show it; and you know the Meritons have just come home from
India, and have not a house to go to. So you see we thought, as you
are not quite so comfortable as we could wish to see you, Frank--and
perhaps we might be of some use--and Mr Shirley is better again, and
no immediate settlement has to be made about Skelmersdale;--that on
the whole, if Leonora and you were to see more of each other--oh, my
dear boy, don't be so hasty; it was all her own doing--it was not my
fault."

"Fault! I am sorry to be the occasion of so many arrangements," said Mr
Wentworth, with his stiff manner; "but, of course, if you like to stay
in Carlingford I shall be very happy--though there is not much preaching
here that will suit my aunt Leonora: as for Mr Shirley, I hope he'll
live for ever. I was at No. 10 today," continued the Curate, turning his
head to the other side, and changing his tone in a manner marvellous to
Miss Dora. "I don't think she can live much longer. You have done a
great deal to smooth her way in this last stage. Poor soul! she thinks
she has been a great sinner," said the young man, with a kind of
wondering pity. He had a great deal to vex him in his own person, and
he knew of some skeletons very near at hand, but somehow at that moment
it was hard to think of the extremities of mortal trouble, of death and
anguish--those dark deeps of life by which Lucy and he sometimes stood
together in their youth