to act for myself, and not be frightened out of doing what I
think right, because the world says this and that."

As he so spoke, the angry Captain got up to leave the room.

"All the same," rejoined the parson, firing the last shot; "I'd think
twice about it, if I were you, before I married Mary Lowther."

"He's more of an ass, and twice as headstrong as I thought him," said
Parson John to Miss Marrable the next day; "but still I don't think
it will come to anything. As far as I can observe, three of these
engagements are broken off for one that goes on. And when he comes to
look at things he'll get tired of it. He's going up to London next
week, and I shan't press him to come back. If he does come I can't
help it. If I were you, I wouldn't ask him up the hill, and I should
tell Miss Mary a bit of my mind pretty plainly."

Hitherto, as far as words went, Aunt Sarah had told very little of
her mind to Mary Lowther on the subject of her engagement, but she
had spoken as yet no word of congratulation; and Mary knew that the
manner in which she proposed to bestow herself was not received with
favour by any of her relatives at Loring.

CHAPTER XXII.

WHAT THE FENWICKS THOUGHT ABOUT IT.

Bullhampton unfortunately was at the end of the postman's walk, and
as the man came all the way from Lavington, letters were seldom
received much before eleven o'clock. Now this was a most pernicious
arrangement, in respect to which Mr. Fenwick carried on a perpetual
feud with the Post-office authorities, having put forward a great
postal doctrine that letters ought to be rained from heaven on to
everybody's breakfast-table exactly as the hot water is brought in
for tea. He, being an energetic man, carried on a long and angry
correspondence with the authorities aforesaid; but the old man
from Lavington continued to toddle into the village just at eleven
o'clock. It was acknowledged that ten was his time; but, as he argued
with himself, ten and eleven were pretty much of a muchness. The
consequence of this was, that Mary Lowther's letters to Mrs. Fenwick
had been read by her two or three hours before she had an opportunity
of speaking on the subject to her husband. At last, however, he
returned, and she flew at him with the letter in her hand. "Frank,"
she said, "Frank, what do you think has happened?"

"The Bank of England must have stopped, from the look of your face."

"I wish it had, with all my heart, sooner than this.