than a desire to have
it all my own way," said the Rector. "I always felt sure that Proctor
would make a mess of any parish he took in hand, but I did not imagine
he would have left it to anybody who pleased to work it. You may
imagine what my feelings were to-day, when I came upon a kind of
impromptu chapel in that wretched district near the canal. I thought
it a Little Bethel, you know, of course; but instead of that, I find
young Wentworth goes there Wednesdays and Fridays to do duty, and that
there is service on Sunday evening, and I can't tell what besides.
It may be done from a good motive--but such a disregard of all
constituted authority," said the Rector, with involuntary vehemence,
"can never, in my opinion, be attended by good results."

"Mr Wentworth, did you say?" said Mrs Morgan, upon whose female soul
the Perpetual Curate's good looks and good manners had not been
without a certain softening effect. "I am so sorry. I don't wonder you
are vexed; but don't you think there must be some mistake, William? Mr
Wentworth is so gentlemanly and nice--and of very good family, too.
I don't think he would choose to set himself in opposition to the
Rector. I think there must be some mistake." "It's a very aggravating
mistake, at all events," said Mr Morgan, rising and going to the
window. It was, as we have said, a very pretty drawing-room, and the
windows opened upon as pretty a bit of lawn as you could see, with one
handsome cedar sweeping its dark branches majestically over delicious
greensward; but some people did think it was too near George Street
and the railway. Just at that moment a puff of delicate white vapour
appeared over the wall, and a sudden express-train, just released from
the cover of the station, sprang with a snort and bound across the
Rector's view, very imperfectly veiled by the lime-trees, which were
thin in their foliage as yet. Mr Morgan groaned and retreated--out of
his first exaltation he had descended all at once, as people will do
after building all their hopes upon one grand event, into great
depression and vexation, when he found that, after all, this event did
not change the face of existence, but indeed brought new proofs of
mortality in the shape of special annoyances belonging to itself in
its train. "On the whole," said the Rector, who was subject to fits of
disgust with things in general, "I am tempted to think it was a
mistake coming to Carlingford; the drawbacks quite overbalance