-"of all the letters in the
alphabet, her name begins with Lydia." Whereupon he made a start, put
his finger upon his lips, as if he had in his hurry told the secret; and
she started back a pace in another direction, looked in his face to see
if he was in jest; finding there nothing but apparent simplicity, she
looked a little confused, and evidently took the compliment and the
_hopes_ into her own bosom. When she could sufficiently collect her
thoughts, she expressed her sorrow for any mischief she might have done,
unintentionally; and added, that she would do all in her power to set
all things right again. At this point the Curate returned: he addressed
her somewhat distantly, which to her was a sign stronger than
familiarity, upon the power of which she gave him her hand _of
encouragement_. Gratian took care to leave well alone--let go her arm,
and leaning upon the Curate's wished her good morning, with a gracious
smile about his insidious mouth, to which he put his finger
significantly as if entreating her silence upon the subject of their
conversation. I have told you the particulars of this interview,
Eusebius, as I could gather them from Gratian's narration; and he has a
way of acting what he says, as if he had studied in that school where
the first requisite for an orator is--action; the second--action; the
third--action!

Our friend Gratian, Eusebius, made no matter of conscience of this
fibbing--did not hesitate--wanted no "ductor dubitantium"--as he told it
to us. He gave, it is true, his limb a smarter tapping; but it was no
twinge of conscience that caused the movement of the stick, and there is
nothing of the Franciscan about our friend. Did he _say_ a word that was
not perfect truth?

But what was the intention?--did he mean to deceive? But this is not a
question to discuss with you. You will do more than acquit him. So I am
answered, and silent. Gratian's answer was this. In his fabulous mood,
he asked--"If you should see a lion, an open-mouthed lion of the
veritable [Greek: chasm' odonton] breed, traversing a wood, and he
should accost you thus, 'Pray, sir, did you chance to see a man I am
looking after go this way?' would you point out his lurking place, his
path of escape? or would you not, if you knew he went to the right,
direct the lion by all means to continue his pursuit on the left? Then,
sir, which will your worshipful morality prefer, to be the accessary to
the murder, or the principal in th