ute. Mrs. Prime, however, did not choose
to say anything against Mr. Comfort, with whom her husband had been
curate, and who, in her younger days, had been a light to her own
feet. Mr. Comfort was by no means such a one as Dr. Harford, though
the two old men were friends. Mr. Comfort had been regarded as a
Calvinist when he was young, as Evangelical in middle life, and was
still known as a Low Churchman in his old age. Therefore Mrs. Prime
would spare him in her sneers, though she left his ministry. He had
become lukewarm, but not absolutely stone cold, like the old rector
at Baslehurst. So said Mrs. Prime. Old men would become lukewarm, and
therefore she could pardon Mr. Comfort. But Dr. Harford had never
been warm at all,--had never been warm with the warmth which she
valued. Therefore she scorned him and sneered at him. In return for
which Rachel scorned Mr. Prong and sneered at him.

But though it was Mrs. Prime's custom to go to church at Baslehurst,
on this special Sunday she declared her intention of accompanying her
mother to Cawston. Not a word had been said about the young man, and
they all started off on their walk together in silence and gloom.
With such thoughts as they had in their mind it was impossible that
they should make the journey pleasantly. Rachel had counted on the
walk with her mother, and had determined that everything should be
pleasant. She would have said a word or two about Luke Rowan, and
would have gradually reconciled her mother to his name. But as it
was she said nothing; and it may be feared that her mind, during
the period of her worship, was not at charity with her sister. Mr.
Comfort preached his half-hour as usual, and then they all walked
home. Dr. Harford never exceeded twenty minutes, and had often been
known to finish his discourse within ten. What might be the length of
a sermon of Mr. Prong's no man or woman could foretell, but he never
spared himself or his congregation much under an hour.

They all walked home gloomily to their dinner, and ate their cold
mutton and potatoes in sorrow and sadness. It seemed as though no
sort of conversation was open to them. They could not talk of their
usual Sunday subjects. Their minds were full of one matter, and it
seemed that that matter was by common consent to be banished from
their lips for the day. In the evening, after tea, the two sisters
again went up to Cawston church, leaving their mother with her
Bible;--but hardly a word wa