the sake of the solitary walk; but he had other reasons for the
preference. In the first place it was a Communion Sunday, and in the
next, he could feel more kindly towards Philip there, and he knew he
needed all that could strengthen such a disposition.

Many a question did he ask himself, to certify whether he wilfully
entertained malice or hatred, or any uncharitableness. It was a long,
difficult examination; but at its close, he felt convinced that, if
such passions knocked at the door of his heart, it was not at his own
summons, and that he drove them away without listening to them. And
surely he might approach to gain the best aid in that battle, especially
as he was certain of his strong and deep repentance for his fit of
passion, and longing earnestly for the pledge of forgiveness.

The pardon and peace he sought came to him, and in such sort that the
comfort of that day, when fresh from the first shock, and waiting in
suspense for some new blow, was such as never to be forgotten. They
linked themselves with the grave shade of the clustered gray columns,
and the angel heads on roof of that old church; with the long grass and
tall yellow mullens among its churchyard graves, and with the tints of
the elm-trees that closed it in, their leaves in masses either of green
or yellow, and opening here and there to show the purple hills beyond.

He wandered in the churchyard between the services. All enmity to Philip
was absent now; and he felt as if it would hardly return when he stood
by the graves of the Archdeacon and of the two Frances Morvilles, and
thought what that spot was to his cousin. There were a few flowers
planted round Mrs. Morville's grave, but they showed that they had long
been neglected, and no such signs of care marked her daughter Fanny's.
And when Guy further thought of Mrs. Henley, and recollected how Philip
had sacrificed all his cherished prospects and hopes of distinction, and
embraced an irksome profession, for the sake of these two sisters,
he did not find it difficult to excuse the sternness, severity, and
distrust which were an evidence how acutely a warm heart had suffered.

Though he suffered cruelly from being cut off from Amy, yet his
reverence for her helped him to submit. He had always felt as if she was
too far above him; and though he had, beyond his hopes, been allowed
to aspire to the thought of her, it was on trial, and his failure, his
return to his old evil passions, had sunk