uch as had not been heard in Vellenaux for many years. He was always
welcome whenever he visited his parishioners or attended the sick. He
took a very great interest in the Sunday school that had been
inaugurated by Edith who had, on leaving the Willows, transferred that
responsibility to Julia and Emily Barton, and on her sister's marriage
Emily presided over the classes. This just suited one of her tastes and
habits, who was ever ready to perform some errand of mercy to the poor
and the invalid, and was untiring in her efforts to teach the young
children. She had often been thanked by the clergyman for her valuable
assistance, without which, he was wont to observe, he scarcely knew what
he should do.

When the rector was removed from this sublunary sphere, the Rev. Charles
Denham, through the interest of Lord Patronage, whose fag he had been
while at Eton, obtained the vacant rectorship. This was considered by
the good folks of the district to be a fortunate circumstance, and
things went smoothly on as in the good old time. But on the death of her
parents Emily Barton, as the reader already knows, left Vellenaux to
reside in London. The Rev. gentleman did not know which way to turn; he
was sorely puzzled; he had depended so much on Emily that he began to
think seriously of the possibility of being able to induce Miss Barton
to exchange that name for the one of Denham. This matter had been
revolving in his mind for some time past, though he had given no
utterance to his feelings, and now she was about to leave that part of
the country, perhaps for a lengthened period. "If," thought he, "the
Sunday school had Emily at its head, it would materially assist me," and
he felt convinced that the rectory, without a wife to superintend it,
would be, after all, a very lonely place to pass his days in, would she
not consent to undertake the double duties. "I have never spoken to
her," he said musingly, as he paced up and down his study, "but I shall,
when grief for the loss of her parents will allow her to listen to such
a proposal."

On parting with him on the morning of her departure, she was somewhat
embarassed at his altered manner towards her. She could not but notice
his warm pressure of her hand, and his earnestness of manner, when
asking permission to visit her in London.

"My aunt and sister will, I am sure, be always happy to receive you when
in London," she quietly replied, and after a moment's pause, continued:
"I