alked up homeward, very ill at ease. He had played, to use his
nomenclature, two trump cards running, and was by no means satisfied
that he had played them well. He had no right, certainly, to be
satisfied with either move; for both had been made in a somewhat evil
spirit, and certainly for no very disinterested end.

That was a view of the matter, however, which never entered his mind;
there was only that general dissatisfaction with himself which is,
though men try hard to deny the fact, none other than the supernatural
sting of conscience. He tried "to lay to his soul the flattering
unction" that he might, after all, be of use to Mrs. Vavasour, by
using his power over her husband: but he knew in his secret heart that
any move of his in that direction was likely only to make matters
worse; that to-day's explosion might only have sent home the hapless
Vavasour in a more irritable temper than ever. And thinking over many
things, backward and forward, he saw his own way so little, that he
actually condescended to go and "pump" Frank Headley. So he termed it:
but, after all, it was only like asking advice of a good man, because
he did not feel himself quite good enough to advise himself.

The curate was preparing to sally forth, after his frugal dinner.
The morning he spent at the schools, or in parish secularities; the
afternoon, till dusk, was devoted to visiting the poor; the night, not
to sleep, but to reading and sermon writing. Thus, by sitting up till
two in the morning, and rising again at six for his private devotions,
before walking a mile and a half up to church for the morning service,
Frank Headley burnt the candle of life at both ends very effectually,
and showed that he did so by his pale cheeks and red eyes.

"Ah!" said Tom, as he entered. "As usual: poor Nature is being robbed
and murdered by rich Grace."

"What do you mean now?" asked Frank, smiling, for he had become
accustomed enough to Tom's quaint parables, though he had to scold him
often enough for their irreverence.

"Nature says, 'after dinner sit awhile;' and even the dumb animals
hear her voice, and lie by for a siesta when their stomachs are full.
Grace says, 'Jump up and rush out the moment you have swallowed your
food; and if you get an indigestion, abuse poor Nature for it; and lay
the blame on Adam's fall.'"

"You are irreverent, my good sir, as usual; but you are unjust also
this time."

"How then?"

"Unjust to Grace, as you phr