ds to their ignorance."

They had satisfactorily stripped James of every quality, mental and
physical, which could have made him attractive in Mary's eyes; and the
curate's next remark was quite natural.

"I'm afraid it sounds a conceited thing to say, but I can't help asking
myself what Miss Clibborn saw in him."

"Love is blind," replied Mrs. Jackson. "She could have done much better
for herself."

They paused to consider the vagaries of the tender passion, and the
matches which Mary might have made, had she been so inclined.

"Archibald," said Mrs. Jackson at last, with the decision characteristic
of her, "I've made up my mind. As vicar of the parish, _you_ must go to
Captain Parsons."

"I, my dear?"

"Yes, Archibald. You must insist upon him fulfilling his engagement with
Mary. Say that you are shocked and grieved; and ask him if his own
conscience does not tell him that he has done wrong."

"I'm not sure that he'd listen to reason," nervously remarked the Vicar.

"It's your duty to try, Archibald. We're so afraid of being called
busybodies that even when we ought to step in we hesitate. No motives of
delicacy should stop one when a wicked action is to be prevented. It's
often the clergy's duty to interfere with other people's affairs. For my
part, I will never shrink from doing my duty. People may call me a
busybody if they like; hard words break no bones."

"Captain Parsons is very reserved. He might think it an impertinence if
I went to him."

"How could he? Isn't it our business if he breaks his word with a
parishioner of ours? If you don't talk to him, I shall. So there,
Archibald!"

"Why don't you, Mrs. Jackson?"

"Nothing would please me better, I should thoroughly enjoy giving him a
piece of my mind. It would do him good to be told frankly that he's not
quite so great as he thinks himself. I will never shrink from doing my
duty."

"My dear," remonstrated the Vicar, "if you really think I ought to
speak--"

"Perhaps Mrs. Jackson would do better. A women can say many things that
a man can't."

This was a grateful suggestion to the Vicar, who could not rid himself
of the discomforting thought that James, incensed and hot-tempered,
might use the strength of his arms--or legs--in lieu of argument. Mr.
Jackson would have affronted horrid tortures for his faith, but shrank
timidly before the least suspicion of ridicule. His wife was braver, or
less imaginative.

"Very well, I'll go," she sai