’Now, Jane, let me tell you what has happened in the village—­as I came down the hill from the club-dinner—­’

‘Oh,’ said Jane, hoping to make a diversion, ’Wat Greenwood came back about a quarter of an hour ago, and he—­’

Mr. Devereux proceeded without attending to her, ’As I came down the hill from the club-dinner, old Mrs. Gage came out of Naylor’s house, and her daughter with her, in great anger, calling me to account for having spoken of her in a most unbecoming way, calling her the sour Gage, and trying to set the Squire against them.’

‘Oh, that abominable chattering woman!’ Jane exclaimed; ’and Betsy Wall too, I saw her all alive about something.  What a nuisance such people are!’

‘In short,’ said Mr. Devereux, ’I heard an exaggerated account of all that passed here on the subject the other day.  Now, Jane, am I doing you any injustice in thinking that it must have been through you that this history went abroad into the village?’

‘Well,’ said Jane, ’I am sure you never told us that it was any secret.  When a story is openly told to half a dozen people they cannot be expected to keep it to themselves.’

‘I spoke uncharitably and incautiously,’ said he, ’I am willing to confess, but it is nevertheless my duty to set before you the great matter that this little fire has kindled.’

‘Why, it cannot have done any great harm, can it?’ asked Jane, the agitation of her voice and laugh betraying that she was not quite so careless as she wished to appear.  ’Only the sour Gage will ferment a little.’

’Oh, Jane!  I did not expect that you would treat this matter so lightly.’

‘But tell me, what harm has it done?’ asked she.

’Do you consider it nothing that the poor child should remain unbaptized, that discord should be brought into the parish, that anger should be on the conscience of your neighbour, that he should be driven from the church?’

‘Is it as bad as that?’ said Jane.

’We do not yet see the full extent of the mischief our idle words may have done,’ said Mr. Devereux.

‘But it is their own fault, if they will do wrong,’ said Jane; ’they ought not to be in a rage, we said nothing but the truth.’

‘I wish I was clear of the sin,’ said her cousin.

‘And after all,’ said Jane, ’I cannot see that I was much to blame; I only talked to Mrs. Appleton, as I have done scores of times, and no one minded it.  You only laughed at me on Saturday, and papa and Eleanor never scolded me.’

‘You cannot say that no one has ever tried to check you,’ said the Rector.

‘And how was I to know that that mischief-maker would repeat it?’ said Jane.

‘I do not mean to say,’ said Mr. Devereux, ’that you actually committed a greater sin than you may often have done, by talking in a way which you knew would displease your father.  I know we are too apt to treat lightly the beginnings of evil, until some sudden sting makes us feel what a serpent we have been fostering.  Think this a warning, pray that the evil we dread may be averted; but should it ensue, consider it as a punishment sent in mercy.  It will be better for you not to come to school to-morrow; instead of the references you were to have looked out, I had rather you read over in a humble spirit the Epistle of St. James.’