Rachel said no more, but when she was gone upstairs Mr. Clare detained his nephew to say, “I beg your pardon, Alick, but you should be quite sure that your wife likes this proposal.”

“That’s the value of a strong-minded wife, sir,” returned Alick; “she is not given to making a fuss about small matters.”

“Most ladies might not think this a small matter.”

“That is because they have no perspective in their brains.  Rachel understands me a great deal too well to make me explain what is better unspoken.”

“You know what I think, Alick, that you are the strictest judge that ever a merry girl had.”

“I had rather you continued to think so, uncle; I should like to think so myself.  Good night.”

Alick was right, but whether or not Rachel entered into his motives, she made no objection to his going to the bazaar with his sister, being absolutely certain that he would not have done so if he could have helped it.

Nor was her day at all dreary; Mr. Clare was most kind and attentive to her, without being oppressive, and she knew she was useful to him.  She was indeed so full of admiration and reverence for him, that once or twice it crossed her whether she were not belying another of her principles by lapsing into Curatocult, but the idea passed away with scorn at the notion of comparing Mr. Clare with the objects of such devotion.  He belonged to that generation which gave its choicest in intellectual, as well as in religious gifts to the ministry, when a fresh tide of enthusiasm was impelling men forward to build up, instead of breaking down, before disappointment and suspicion had thinned the ranks, and hurled back many a recruit, or doctrinal carpings had taught men to dread a search into their own tenets.  He was a highly cultivated, large-minded man, and the conversation between him and his nephew was a constant novelty to her, who had always yearned after depth and thought, and seldom met with them.  Still here she was constantly feeling how shallow were her acquirements, how inaccurate her knowledge, how devoid of force and solidity her reasonings compared with what here seemed to be old, well-beaten ground.  Nay, the very sparkle of fun and merriment surprised and puzzled her; and all the courtesy of the one gentleman, and the affection of the other, could not prevent her sometimes feeling herself the dullest and most ignorant person present.  And yet the sense was never mortifying except when here and there a spark of the old conceit had lighted itself, and lured her into pretensions where she thought herself proficient.  She was becoming more and more helpful to Mr. Clare, and his gratitude for her services made them most agreeable, nor did that atmosphere of peace and sincerity that reigned round the Rectory lose its charm.  She was really happy all through the solitary Wednesday, and much more contented with the results than was Alick.  “A sickening place,” he said, “I am glad I went.”