take Wentworth Rectory; so it will not be an unmingled evil," said
Miss Leonora, biting her pen, and throwing a keen glance at the Curate
of St Roque's, "especially as you and we differ so entirely in our
views. I could not consent to appoint anybody to Skelmersdale, even if
poor Mr Shirley were to die, who did not preach the Gospel; and it
would be sad for you to spend all your life in a Perpetual Curacy,
where you could have no income, nor ever hope to be able to marry,"
she continued steadily, with her eyes fixed upon her nephew. "Of
course, if you had entered the Church for the love of the work, it
would be a different matter," said the strong-minded aunt. "But that
sort of thing seems to have gone out of fashion. I am sorry about
Gerald--very sorry; but after what I saw of him, I am not surprised;
and it is a comfort to one's mind to think that you will be provided
for, Frank." Miss Leonora wrote a few words of the letter as she
finished this speech. What she was saying in that epistle was (in
reference to the gin-palace) that all discouragements were sent by
God, and that, no doubt, His meaning was, that we should work all the
harder to make way against them. After putting down which encouraging
sentiment, she raised her eyes again, and planted her spear in her
nephew's bosom with the greatest composure in the world.

"My Perpetual Curacy suits me very well," said Mr Wentworth, with a
little pride; "and there is a good deal to do in Carlingford. However,
I did not come here to talk about that. The Rector is going to put up
an iron church in my district," said the young man, who was rather
glad of a subject which permitted a little of his indignation to
escape. "It is very easy to interfere with other people's work." And
then he paused, not choosing to grumble to an unsympathetic audience.
To feel that nobody cares about your feelings, is better than all the
rules of self-control. The Perpetual Curate stopped instinctively with
a dignified restraint, which would have been impossible to him under
other circumstances. It was no merit of his, but he reaped the
advantage of it all the same.

"But oh, my dear," said Miss Dora, "what a comfort to think of what St
Paul says--'Whether it be for the right motive or not, Christ is still
preached.' And one never knows what chance word may touch a heart,"
said the poor little woman, shaking her limp curls away from her
cheeks. "It was you being offended with him that made de