sible girl as she was.

"I thought it was the other side that were questioned about their
intentions," she said. "Am I doing anything amiss? Mr Wentworth is the
Curate of St Roque's, and I am one of the district-visitors, and we
can't help seeing a great deal of each other so long as this work goes
on at Wharfside. You wouldn't like to stop a great work because we are
obliged to see a good deal of--of one particular person?" said Lucy,
with youthful virtue, looking at her sister's face; at which tone and
look Miss Wodehouse immediately faltered, as the culprit knew she
must.

"No--oh no, no--to be sure not," said the disturbed monitor. "When you
say that, I don't know how to answer you. It must be right, I suppose.
I am quite sure it is wonderful to see such young creatures as you,
and how you can tell the right way to set about it. But things did not
use to be so in my young days. Girls dare not have done such things
twenty years ago--not in Carlingford, Lucy," said Miss Wodehouse;
"and, dear, I think you ought to be a little careful, for poor Mr
Wentworth's sake."

"I don't think Mr Wentworth is in any particular danger," said Lucy,
putting down her cup, with a slight curve at the corners of her
pretty mouth--"and it is quite time for you to begin dressing. You
know you don't like to be hurried, dear;" with which speech the young
housekeeper got up from her easy-chair, gave her sister a kiss as she
passed, and went away, singing softly, to her toilette. Perhaps there
was a little flutter in Lucy's heart as she bound it round with her
favourite blue ribbons. Perhaps it was this that gave a certain
startled gleam to her blue eyes, and made even her father remark them
when she went down-stairs--"It seems to me as if this child were
growing rather pretty, Molly, eh? I don't know what other people
think," said Mr Wodehouse--and perhaps Mr Wentworth, who was just
being ushered into the drawing-room at the moment, heard the speech,
for he, too, looked as if he had never found it out before. Luckily
there was a party, and no opportunity for sentiment. The party was in
honour of the Rector and his wife; and Mr Wentworth could not but be
conscious before the evening was over that he had done something to
lose the favour of his clerical brother. There was a good deal of
Church talk, as was natural, at the churchwarden's table, where three
clergymen were dining--for Mr Morgan's curate was there as well; and
the Curate of St R