to us still, because no one would take the expense of it."

"And because of the stories concerning it, Maria. Your nephew Caryl is
a brave young fellow if he means to live there all alone, and I fear he
can afford himself no company. You understand him so much better: what
do you suppose his motive is?"

"I make no pretence to understand him, dear, any more than his poor
father could. My dear brother was of headstrong order, and it did him
no good to contradict him, and indeed it was dangerous to do so; but his
nature was as simple as a child's almost, to any one accustomed to him.
If he had not married that grand French lady, who revelled in every
extravagance, though she knew how we all were impoverished, he might
have been living and in high position now, though a good many years my
senior. And the worst of it was that he did it at a time when he ought
to have known so much better. However, he paid for it bitterly enough,
and his only child was set against him."

"A very sad case altogether," said the rector. "I remember, as if it
were yesterday, how angry poor Montagu was with me. You remember what
words he used, and his threat of attacking me with his horsewhip. But he
begged my pardon, most humbly, as soon as he saw how thoroughly right I
was. You are like him in some things, as I often notice, but not quite
so generous in confessing you were wrong."

"Because I don't do it as he did, Joshua. You would never understand me
if I did. But of course for a man you can make allowance. My rule is to
do it both for men and women, quite as fairly as if one was the other."

"Certainly, Maria--certainly. And therefore you can do it, and have
always done it, even for poor Josephine. No doubt there is much to be
pleaded, by a candid and gentle mind, on her behalf."

"What! that dreadful creature who ruined my poor brother, and called
herself the Countess de Lune, or some such nonsense! No, Joshua, no!
I have not so entirely lost all English principle as to quite do that.
Instead of being largeness, that would be mere looseness."

"There are many things, however, that we never understood, and perhaps
never shall in this world," Mr. Twemlow continued, as if talking to
himself, for reason on that subject would be misaddressed to her; "and
nothing is more natural than that young Caryl should side with his
mother, who so petted him, against his poor father, who was violent and
harsh, especially when he had to pay such bills.