own time and way of disclosing itself, and that to torture it into premature utterance would be foolish, not to say impracticable. She left him, accordingly, to himself, and went away again, returning, however, ere long, in her vague restlessness, as she had been doing all day. The early winter even parted, going in and out, one scarcely less miserable at that moment than the other. In full sight of them both lingered for the same moment these two in the tenderest blessedness of life. Vincent turned sharp round, and went away the whole length of the long road past St. Roque's, past the farthest village suburb of Carlingford, sti-ing had closed in, and the lamp was lighted fling his heart that it should say nothing. He had forgotten all about those duties which brought him there. Salem had vanished from his horizon. He saw nothing in heaven or earth but that miserable woman going back to her prison, interwoven with the vision of these two in their garden of paradise. The sight possessed him, heart and spirit; he could not even feel that he felt it, his heart lying stifled in his bosom. It was, and there was no more to say. CHAPTER XXXIII. MRS. VINCENT made many pilgrimages out of the sick-room that day; her mind was disturbed and restless; she could not keep still by Susan's side. She went and strayed through her son's rooms, looked at his books, gave a furtive glance at his linen; then went back and sat down for a little, until a renewed access of anxiety sent her wandering forth once more. Then she heard him come in, and went out to see him. But he was gloomy and uncommunicative, evidently indisposed to satisfy her in any way, absorbed in his own thoughts. Mrs. Vincent came and sat by him while he dined, thinking, in her simplicity, that it would be a pleasure to Arthur. But Arthur, with the unsocial habits of a man accustomed to live alone, had already set up a book before him while he ate, leaving his mother to wonder by herself behind what was the world of unknown thought that rapt her son, and into which her wistful wonder could not penetrate. But the widow was wise in her generation: she would not worry him with questions which it was very apparent beforehand that he did not mean to answer. She admitted to herself, with a pang of mingled pain, curiosity, and resignation, that Arthur was no longer a boy having no secrets from his mother. Once more the little woman looked at the unreasonable male creature shut up within itself, and decided, with a feminine mixture of pity and awe, that it must be allowed to take its -the same lamp which had smoked and annoyed Mrs. Vincent's nice perceptions the first evening she was in Carlingford. Vincent had thrown himself on a sofa with a book, not to read, but as a disguise under which he could indulge his own thoughts, when his mother came quietly back into the room. Mrs. Vincent thought it looked dark and less cheerful than it ought. She poked the fire softly not to disturb Arthur, and made it blaze. Then she turned to the lamp, which flared huskily upon the table. "It smokes more than ever," said Mrs. Vincent, half apologetically, in case Arthur should observe her proceedings as she took off the globe. He, as was natural, put down his book and gazed at her with a certain impatient wonder, half contemptuous of that strange female development which amid all troubles could carry through from one crisis of life to another that miraculous trifling, and concern itself about the smoking of a lamp. As she screwed it up and down and adjusted the wick, with the smoky light flaring upon her anxious face, and magnifying the shadow of her little figure against the wall behind, her son looked on with a feeling very similar to that which had moved Mrs. Vincent when she watched him eating his dinner with his book set up before him. These were points upon which the mother and son could not understand each other. But the sight disturbed his thoughts and touched his temper; he got up from the sofa and threw down his unread book. "You women are incomprehensible," said the young man, with an irritation he could not subdue-"what does it matter about the lamp? but if the world were going to pieces you must still be intent upon such trifles- leave that to the people of the - house.” "But, my dear, the people of the house don't understand it," said Mrs. Vincent. "O Arthur, it is often the trifles that are the most important. I have had Mrs. Tozer calling upon me to-day, and Mrs. Tufton. | suspicious, and ready to take offence-Ar- breach. Upon which the minister, conscious of not being prepared for Tozer's questions, gave vent to an impatient ejaculation. "Never ulous rush, Mrs. Vincent put herself in the a moment's respite! and now I shall have to give an account of myself," said the unfortunate Nonconformist. Mrs. Vincent, who had just then finished her operations with the lamp, looked up reproachfully over the light at her son. "O Arthur, consider how kind he has been! Your dear father would never have used such an expression-but you have my quick temper," said the widow, with a little sigh. She shook hands very cordially with the good butterman when he made his appearance. "I was just going to make tea for my son," said Mrs. Vincent. "I have scarcely been able to sit with him at all since Susan took ill. Arthur, ring the bell —it is so kind of you to come; you will take a cup of tea with us while my son and you talk matters over-that is, if you don't object to my presence ?" said the minister's mother, with a smile. "Your dear papa always liked me to be with him, Arthur; and until he has a wife, Mr. Tozer, I dare say his mother will not be much in the way when it is so kind a friend as you he has to talk over his business with. Bring tea directly, please. I fear you have forgotten what I said to you about the lamp, which burns quite nicely when you take a little pains. Arthur, will you open the window to clear the atmosphere of that smoke? and perhaps Mr. Tozer will take a seat nearer the fire." "I am sure so warm a friend as Mr. Tozer can never trouble any of my family. at any time," said the widow, with a little effusion. "I know too well how rare a thing real kindness is-and I am very glad you have come just now while I can be here," she added, with a sensation of thankfulness perhaps not so complimentary to Tozer as it looked on the surface. "Arthur, dear, I think that will do now. You may put up the window and come back to your chair. You don't smell the lamp, Mr. Tozer ? and here is the little maid with the tea." Mrs. Vincent moved about the tray almost in a bustle when the girl had placed it on the table. She re-arranged all the cups and moved everything on the table, while her son took up a gloomy position behind her on the hearth-rug, and Tozer preserved an aspect of ominous civility on the other side of the table. She was glad that the little maid had to return two or three times with various forgotten adjuncts, though even then Mrs. Vincent's instincts of good management prompted her to point out to the handmaiden the disadvantages of her thoughtlessness. "If you had but taken time to think what would be wanted, you would have saved yourself a great deal of trouble," said the minister's mother, with a tremble of expectation thrilling her frame, looking wistfully "I am obliged to you, ma'am," said the round to see whether anything more was butterman, who had a cloud on his face. wanted, or if, perhaps, another minute might "Not no nearer, thank you all the same. be gained before the storm broke. She gave If I hadn't thought you'd have done tea, I Arthur a look of entreaty as she called him shouldn't have come troubling Mr. Vincent, forward to take his place at table. She not so soon," and Tozer turned a doubtful knew that real kindness was not very often glance towards the minister, who stood to be met with in this cross-grained world; longer at the window than he need have and if people are conscious of having been done. The widow's experienced eye saw kind, it is only natural they should expect that some irritation had risen between her gratitude! Such was the sentiment in her son and his friend and patron. Tozer was eyes as she turned round and fixed them upon her son. "Tea is ready, Arthur," said the congregation? Look here, Tozer-you the widow, in a tone of secret supplication. are a sensible man-you have been very And Arthur understood his mother, and was kind, as my mother says. I set out to-day less and less inclined to conciliate as he intending to go and see this man for your came forward out of the darkness, where he sake; but you know very well this is not might look sulky if he pleased, and sat down what I came to Carlingford for. If I had full in the light of the lamp, which smoked known the sort of thing that was required no longer. They were not a comfortable of me ! " cried Vincent, rising up and resumparty. Mrs. Vincent felt it so necessary that ing his place on the hearth-rug-" to go with she should talk and keep them separated, my hat in my hand, and beg this one and that she lost her usual self-command, and the other to forgive me, and receive me into subjects failed her in her utmost need. favor:-why, what have I ever done to Pigeon? if he has anything to find fault with, he had much better come to me, and have it out." "Let me give you another cup of tea," she said, as the butterman paused in the supernumerary meal which that excellent man was making; "I am so glad you happened to come this evening when I am taking a little leisure. I hope the congregation will not think me indifferent, Mr. Tozer. I am sure you and Mrs. Tozer will kindly explain to them how much I have been occupied. When Susan is well, I hope to make acquaintance with all my son's people. Arthur, my dear boy, you are over-tired, you don't eat anything-and you made a very poor dinner. I wish you would advise him to take a little rest, Mr. Tozer. He minds his mother in most things, but not in this. It is vain for me to say anything to him about giving up work; but perhaps a little advice from you would have more effect. I spoke to Dr. Rider on the subject, and he says a little rest is all my son requires; but rest is exactly what he will never take. It was just the same with his dear father-and you are not strong enough, Arthur, to bear so much." "I dare say as you're right, ma'am," said Tozer; "if he was to take a little more exercise and walking about-most of us Salem folks wouldn't mind a little less on Sundays to have more of the minister at other times. I hope as there wasn't no unpleasantness, Mr. Vincent, between you and Pigeon when you see him to-day ? " "I did not see him;-I mean I am sorry I was not able to call on Pigeon to-day," said Vincent, hastily; "I was unexpectedly detained," he added, growing rather red, and looking Tozer in the face. "Indeed, I am not sure that I ought to call on Pigeon," continued the minister, after a pause; I have done nothing to offend him. If he chooses to take an affront which was never intended, I can't help it. Why should I go and court every man who is sulky or ill-tempered in "Mr. Vincent, sir," said Tozer, solemnly, pushing away his empty teacup, and leaning forward over the table on his folded arms, "them aint the sentiments for a pastor in our connection. That's a style of thing as may do among fine folks, or in the church where there's no freedom; but them as chooses their own pastor, and pays their own pastor, and don't spare no pains to make him comfortable, has a right to expect different. Them aint the sentiments, sir, for Salem folks. I don't say if they're wrong or right-I don't make myself a judge of no man; but I've seen a deal of our connection and human nature in general, and this I know, that a minister as has to please his flock, has got to please his flock whatever happens, and neither me nor no other man can make it different; and that Mrs. Vincent, as has seen life, can tell you as well as I can. Pigeon aint neither here nor there. It's the flock as has to be considered-and it aint preaching alone as will do that; and that your good mother, sir, as knows the world, will tell you as well as me." "But Arthur is well aware of it," said the alarmed mother, interposing hastily, conscious that to be thus appealed to was the greatest danger which could threaten her. "His dear father always told him so; yet, after all, Mr. Vincent used to say," added the anxious diplomatist, "that nothing was to be depended on in the end but the pulpit. I have heard him talking of it with the leading people in the connection, Mr. Tozer. They all used to say that, though visiting was very good, and a pastor's duty, it was the pulpit, after all, that was to be most trusted to; and I have always seen in my experience-I don't know if the same has occurred to you-that both gifts are very don't know nothing, and don't care nothing rarely to be met with. Of course, we for Salem, nor understand the ways of folks should all strive after perfection," contin- like us ued the minister's mother, with a tremulous smile" but it is so seldom met with that any one has both gifts! Arthur, my dear boy, I wish you would eat something; and, Mr. Tozer, let me give you another cup of tea." "No more for me, ma'am, thankye," said Tozer, laying his hand over his cup. "I don't deny as there's truth in what you say. I don't deny as a family here and there in a flock may be aggravating like them Pigeons. I'm not the man to be hard on a minister, if that aint his turn. A pastor may have a weakness, and not feel himself as equal to one part of his work as to another; but to go for to say as visiting and keeping the flock pleased, aint his duty—it's that, ma'am, as goes to my heart." Tozer's pathos touched a lighter chord in the bosom of the minister. He came back to his seat with a passing sense of amusement. "If Pigeon has anything to find fault with, let him come and have it out," said Vincent, bringing, as his mother instantly perceived, a less clouded countenance into the light of the lamp. "You, who are a much better judge than Pigeon, were not displeased on Sunday," added the minister, not without a certain complacency. Looking back upon the performances of that day, the young Nonconformist himself was not displeased. He knew now-though he was unconscious at the time-that he had made a great appearance in the pulpit of. Salem, and that once more the eyes of Carlingford, unused to oratory, and still more unused to great and passionate emotion, were turned upon him. "Well, sir, if it come to be a question of that," said the mollified deacon; “but no— it aint that I can't, whatever my feelings is, be forgetful of my dooty!" cried Tozer, in sudden excitement. "It aint that, Mr. Vincent; it's for your good I'm a-speaking up and letting you know my mind. It aint the pulpit, sir. I'll not say as I ever had a word to say against your sermons; but when the minister goes out of my house a-saying as he's going to visit the flock, and when he's to be seen the next moment, Mrs. Vincent, not going to the flock, but a-spending his precious time in Grange Lane with them as Here Tozer was interrupted suddenly by the minister, who once more rose from his chair with an angry exclamation. What he might have said in the hasty impulse of the moment nobody could tell; but Mrs Vincent, hastily stumbling up on her part from her chair, burst in with a tremulous voiceArthur, my dear boy! did you hear Susan call me ?-hark! I fancied I heard her voice. O Arthur, dear, go and see, I am too weak to run myself. Say I am coming directly-hark! do you think it is Susan? O Arthur, go and see!" Startled by her earnestness, though declaring he heard nothing, the young man hastened away. Mrs. Vincent seized her opportunity without loss of time. "Mr. Tozer," said the widow, "I am just going to my sick child. Arthur and you will be able to talk of your business more freely when I am gone, and I hope you will be guided to give him good advice; what I am afraid of is, that he will throw it all up," continued Mrs. Vincent, leaning her hand upon the table, and bending forward confidential and solemn to the startled butterman, "as so many talented young men in our connection do now-a-days. Young men are so difficult to deal with; they will not put up with things that we know must be put up with," said the minister's mother, shaking her head with a sigh. "That is how we are losing all our young preachers;--an accomplished young man has so many ways of getting on now. O Mr. Tozer, I rely upon you to give my son good advice-if he is aggravated, it is my terror that he will throw it all up! Good-night. You have been our kind friend, and I have such trust in you! Saying which the widow shook hands with him earnestly and went away, leaving the worthy deacon much shaken, and with a weight of responsibility upon him. Vincent met her at the door, assuring her that Susan had not called; but with a heroism which nobody suspected, trembling with anxiety, yet conscious of having struck a master-stroke, his mother glided away to the stillness of the sick-room, where she sat questioning her own wisdom all the evening after, and wondering whether, after all, at such a crisis, she had done right to come away. heart. CHAPTER XXXIV. When the minister and the deacon were | dismay to the very heart of the household. left aione together, instead of returning with Perhaps it was the dawn of a new era of afzest to their interrupted discussion, neither fairs in Salem. The deacon's very sleep was of them said anything for some minutes. disturbed by recollections of the promising Once more Vincent took up his position on young men who, now he came to think of it, the hearth-rug, and Tozer gazed ruefully at had been lost to the connection, as Mrs. Vinthe empty cup which he still covered with cent suggested, and had thrown it all up. his hand, full of troubled thoughts. The re- The fate of the chapel, and all the new sitsponsibility was almost too much for Tozer. tings let under the ministry of the young He could scarcely realize to himself what Nonconformist, seemed to hang on Tozer's terrors lay involved in that threatened dan-hands. He thought of the weekly crowd, ger, or what might happen if the minister and his heart stirred. Not many deacons in threw it all up! He held his breath at the the connection could boast of being crowded awful thought. The widow's Parthian ar- out of their own pews Sunday after Sunday row had gone straight to the butterman's by the influx of unexpected hearers. The i enlightenment of Carlingford, as well as the "I hope, sir, as you wont think there's filling of the chapel, was at stake. Clearly, anything but an anxious feelin' in the flock in the history of Salem, a new era had beto do you justice as our pastor," said Tozer, gun. with a certain solemnity, "or that we aint sensible of our blessin's. I've said both to yourself and others, as you was a young man THAT week passed on without much inciof great promise, and as good a preacher as dent. To Vincent and his mother, in whose I ever see in our connection, Mr. Vincent, history days had, for some time past, been and I'll stand by what I've said; but you counting like years, it might have seemed a aint above taking a friend's advice. not very grateful pause, but for the thundrous speaking with no authority," added the good atmosphere of doubt and uncertainty which butterman, in a conciliatory tone; "it's all clouded over them on every side. Susan's along of the women, sir it's them as is at recovery did not progress; and Dr. Rider the bottom of all the mischief in a flock. It began to look as serious over her utter lanaint Pigeon, bless you, as is to blame. And guor and apathy, which nothing seemed able even my missis, though she's not to say un- to disturb, as he had done at her delirium. reasonable as women go-none of them can The Salem people stood aloof, as Mrs. Vinabide to hear of you a-going after Lady cent perceived, with keen feminine observaWestern-that's it, Mr. Vincent. She's a tion. She could not persuade herself, as she lovely creature," cried Tozer, with enthusi- had tried to persuade Mrs. Tozer, that the asm; "there aint one in Carlingford to com- landlady answered inquiries at the door by pare with her, as I can see, and I wouldn't way of leaving the sick-room quiet. be the one to blame a young man as was car-fact was, that except Lady Western's fine ried away. But there couldn't no good come footman, the sight of whom at the minister's of it, and Salem folks is touchy and jealous," continued the worthy deacon; "that was all as I meant to say." The door was far from desirable, nobody came to make inquiries except Mrs. Tufton and Phoebe Tozer, the latter of whom found no Thus the conference ended amicably after encouragement in her visits. Politic on all a little more talk, in which Pigeon and the other points the widow could not deny herother malcontents were made a sacrifice of self, when circumstances put it in her power and given up by the anxious butterman, to extinguish Phoebe. Mrs. Vincent would upon whom Mrs. Vincent's parting words not have harmed a fly, but it gave her a had made so deep an impression. Tozer certain pleasure to wound the rash female went home thereafter to overawe his angry bosom which had, as she supposed, formed wife, whom Vincent's visit to Lady Western had utterly exasperated, with the dread responsibility now laid upon them. "What if he was to throw it all up!" said Tozer. That alarming possibility struck silence and plans of securing her son. As for Tozer himself, his visits had almost ceased. He was scarcely to be seen even in the shop, into which sometimes the minister himself gazed disconsolately when he strayed out in |