The humble listener may receive comfort even from commonplace words; but Clara was not humble, and rebuked herself for her own pride.  On the second occasion of his coming she did endeavour to receive him with a meek heart, and to accept what he said with an obedient spirit.  But the struggle within her bosom was hard, and when he bade her to kneel and pray with him, she doubted for a moment between rebellion and hypocrisy.  But she had determined to be meek, and so hypocrisy carried the hour.

What would a clergyman say on such an occasion if the object of his solicitude were to decline the offer, remarking that prayer at that moment did not seem to be opportune; and that, moreover, he, the person thus invited, would like, first of all, to know what was to be the special object of the proposed prayer, if he found that he could, at the spur of the moment, bring himself at all into a fitting mood for the task?  Of him who would decline, without argument, the clergyman would opine that he was simply a reprobate.  Of him who would propose to accompany an hypothetical acceptance with certain stipulations, he would say to himself that he was a stiff-necked wrestler against grace, whose condition was worse than that of the reprobate.  Men and women, conscious that they will be thus judged, submit to the hypocrisy, and go down upon their knees unprepared, making no effort, doing nothing while they are there, allowing their consciences to be eased if they can only feel themselves numbed into some ceremonial awe by the occasion.  So it was with Clara, when Mr Possitt, with easy piety, went through the formula of his devotion, hardly ever having realized to himself the fact that of all works in which man can engage himself, that of prayer is the most difficult.

‘It is a sad loss to me,’ said Mr Possitt, as he sat for half an hour with Clara, after she had thus submitted herself.  Mr Possitt was a weakly, pale-faced little man, who worked so hard in the parish that on every day, Sundays included, he went to bed as tired in all his bones as a day labourer from the fields ’a very great loss.  There are not many now who understand what a clergyman has to go through, as our dear friend did.’  If he was mindful of his two glasses of port wine on Sundays, who could blame him?

‘She was a very kind woman, Mr Possitt.’

’Yes, indeed and so thoughtful!  That she will have an exceeding great reward, who can doubt?  Since I knew her she always lived as a saint upon earth.  I suppose there’s nothing known as to who will live in this house, Miss Amedroz?’

‘Nothing I should think.’

‘Captain Aylmer won’t keep it in his own hands?’

’I cannot tell in the least; but as he is obliged to live in London because of Parliament, and goes to Yorkshire always in the autumn, he can hardly want it.