But the prospect of so completely confounding the unfortunate parson warned Beauchamp that he might have a shot in his locker:  the parson heavily trodden on will turn.  ‘I suppose we must be hypocrites,’ he said in dejection.  Dr. Shrapnel was even more melancholy.  He again offered to try his persuasiveness upon Jenny.  Beauchamp declined to let her be disturbed.

She did not yield so very lightly to the invitation to go before a parson.  She had to be wooed after all; a Harry Hotspur’s wooing.  Three clergymen of the Established Church were on the island:  ’And where won’t they be, where there’s fine scenery and comforts abound?’ Beauchamp said to the doctor ungratefully.

’Whether a celibate clergy ruins the Faith faster than a non-celibate, I won’t dispute,’ replied the doctor; ’but a non-celibate interwinds with us, and is likely to keep up a one-storied edifice longer.’

Jenny hesitated.  She was a faltering unit against an ardent and imperative two in the council.  And Beauchamp had shown her a letter of Lady Romfrey’s very clearly signifying that she and her lord anticipated tidings of the union.  Marrying Beauchamp was no simple adventure.  She feared in her bosom, and resigned herself.

She had a taste of what it was to be, at the conclusion of the service.  Beauchamp thanked the good-natured clergyman, and spoke approvingly of him to his bride, as an agreeable well-bred gentlemanly person.  Then, fronting her and taking both her hands:  ‘Now, my darling,’ he said:  ’you must pledge me your word to this:  I have stooped my head to the parson, and I am content to have done that to win you, though I don’t think much of myself for doing it.  I can’t look so happy as I am.  And this idle ceremony—­however, I thank God I have you, and I thank you for taking me.  But you won’t expect me to give in to the parson again.’

‘But, Nevil,’ she said, fearing what was to come:  ’they are gentlemen, good men.’

‘Yes, yes.’

‘They are educated men, Nevil.’

’Jenny!  Jenny Beauchamp, they’re not men, they’re Churchmen.  My experience of the priest in our country is, that he has abandoned—­ he ’s dead against the only cause that can justify and keep up a Church:  the cause of the poor—­the people.  He is a creature of the moneyed class.  I look on him as a pretender.  I go through his forms, to save my wife from annoyance, but there ’s the end of it:  and if ever I’m helpless, unable to resist him, I rely on your word not to let him intrude; he’s to have nothing to do with the burial of me.  He’s against the cause of the people.  Very well:  I make my protest to the death against him.  When he’s a Christian instead of a Churchman, then may my example not be followed.  It ‘s little use looking for that.’

Jenny dropped some tears on her bridal day.  She sighed her submission.  ‘So long as you do not change,’ said she.

‘Change!’ cried Nevil.  ’That’s for the parson.  Now it’s over:  we start fair.  My darling!  I have you.  I don’t mean to bother you.  I’m sure you’ll see that the enemies of Reason are the enemies of the human race; you will see that.  I can wait.’