which narrative brought me abundant
consolation. But I stood unaccountably in awe
of the amiable Sophia Dorothea. That
masculine voice of hers, together with her
extraordinary power of eye, making me feel
uncomfortable. She, therefore, was not
present when I told the doleful history of my
early love.

Thus I grew in favour daily with the
sisters Bridles. I came at last, as the good
bishop had foretold it, to have the run of the
house. I entered it at my own hours and
own convenience. A particular chair, to
which I appeared to lean at our first
acquaintance, was set apart for my special use.
I noticed a sort of tabouret growing under
Miss Jemima's fingers, and which I had a
dim notion, was, in some degree, connected
with me.

The old grief was gradually wearing itself
away, and the Reverend Alfred Hoblush was
seen moving about cheerfully, busy with the
concerns of his parish business, perhaps with
the concerns of Miss Bridles.

One day he entered abruptly and found the
two ladies sitting, as it were, at the feet of a
short and fat person, very unctuous about his
lips, who was speaking in a broad Scottish
accent. On those unctuous lips the sisters
Bridles had manifestly been hanging wrapt,
while the Scottish tongue rounded periods
concerning certain missionary wanderings,
and concerning a little paper pamphlet held
between the fingers. There was a manifest
confusion at the entrance of the Reverend Mr.
Hoblush, in the amber cheeks of the younger
of the twain especially.

Mr Hoblush knew instinctively this person
to be that Reverend C. B. McCuddy,
whose works formed the mariner's compass,
before described. He bowed stiffly to him
therefore as an introduction followed. He
did not love the man in his soul. What did
he mean by intruding his literature and his
vulgar person into that circle?

It was but too plain that Reverend C. B.
McCuddy was regarded with favour by the
sisters Bridles. He had been absent for some
time on his travels, and was now retailing
pleasing little spiritual adventures to amuse
the ladies. It was plain, too, that these things
to hear did Miss Jemima especially incline;
and it was to her that unctuous person
pointed his narrative. How I loathed
him! I hearkened grimly, and took leave
abruptly.

Henceforth he seemed to grow into a rock
a-head. By a cruel fatality he seemed to be
always in the Bridles' when I arrived. He
usurped the conversation, and cut me short
in the most lawless way. Worse than all, they
both seemed to look on him with favour.
Jemima, perhaps, not so much, though I
could perceive she was dazzled by his rare
spiritual gifts. Hence, bitter struggle in my
wretched soul;— I would fly them— desert
the house— give all up, and let the unctuous
man have his way. But there was the
bishop's, my spiritual father's admonition—
was that to be disregarded? True, he was my
spiritual father— a good notion! He was
theirs too— why not therefore place confidence
in him, and entrust to him the whole
story. By the next post he learnt it all; and
pending his reply I withdrew with dignity
from the society of the Bridles.

"They shall choose," I said, " between
McCuddy and me. They shall elect between
a wretched shaveling and the ill-fated, but
resolved, Hoblush."

I waited and waited long, eating my soul
out all the while.

To me there came no reply; but there came
presently a sad and sweet note, telling me
that all was over between them and McCuddy.
If there had been any cloud between us, let it
now be dispelled and float away into the
past. The arts of a designing person had
been exposed. Could I be noble, generous,
and forgive!

I flew to her feet. All was forgotten in
the triumph of that hour. Sophia Dorothea
alone grovelled in a corner glaring at me.
She had loved the oily periods of McCuddy.
He had been cast down, and her idol was
broken. But I heeded her not. Sweet and
soft Jemima told me she had always shrunk
from the man and his offerings. Occasionally
came a letter from excellent Bishop Bridles.
The good man was thinking of me, though
far away. He knew now where were
the finest muffins in the world. When in
town I should be sure to wait on him. He
trusted his dear son Hoblush (that filial
relation to be taken ecclesiastically) was
growing in friendship and confidence with his
nieces. Those ladies were worthy of all the
love and confidence his son Hoblush could
bestow on them, and that in proportion as I
grew in their esteeem and favour, so would he
hold that to be a certain test of my merit, and of
the propriety of further advancing me in my
sacred profession. He was happy to add— no,
he meant to say, grieved— that the aged
incumbent of Tepidstone was breaking every
day, more and more. Let me but justify
myself before him and the Miss Bridles— let
me but reach to the standard which he and
they had formed of curatorial perfection, and
I should be hailed at the proper time Incumbent
of Tepidstone.

Reverend Mr. Hoblush took his counsel
home to himself, and would carry it out in,
all faithfulness. What was meant by the
justification alluded to by good Doctor
Bridles, or by that standard which was
to be reached, cost him many hours of painful
thought. What was the standard or who
was the standard, as it finally seemed to him
it should be read? It was an awful mystery
—a thing of trouble.

We read poetry together of evenings by the
lamp's soft light, when she— Sophia Dorothea
of Zell— marked articles of wearing