preferment of itself, and the warden may, for anything we know, be worth much more to the church; but if so, let the church pay him out of funds justly at its own disposal.

“We allude to the question of the Barchester almshouse at the present moment, because we understand that a plea has been set up which will be peculiarly revolting to the minds of English churchmen. An action has been taken against Mr. Warden Harding, on behalf of the almsmen, by a gentleman acting solely on public grounds, and it is to be argued that Mr. Harding takes nothing but what he receives as a servant of the hospital, and that he is not himself responsible for the amount of stipend given to him for his work. Such a plea would doubtless be fair, if any one questioned the daily wages of a bricklayer employed on the building, or the fee of the charwoman who cleans it; but we cannot envy the feeling of a clergyman of the Church of England who could allow such an argument to be put into his mouth.

“If this plea be put forward, we trust Mr. Harding will be forced as a witness to state the nature of his employment; the amount of work that he does; the income which he receives, and the source from whence he obtained his appointment. We do not think he will receive much public sympathy to atone for the annoyance of such an examination.”

As Eleanor read the article her face flushed with indignation, and when she had finished it, she almost feared to look up at her father.

“Well, my dear,” said he, “what do you think of that—is it worth while to be a warden at that price?”

“Oh, papa—dear papa!”

“Mr. Bold can’t unwrite that, my dear—Mr. Bold can’t say that that shan’t be read by every clergyman at Oxford; nay, by every gentleman in the land:” and then he walked up and down the room, while Eleanor in mute despair followed him with her eyes—“and I’ll tell you what, my dear,” he continued, speaking now very calmly, and in a forced manner very unlike himself. “Mr. Bold can’t dispute the truth of every word in that article you have just read—nor can I.” Eleanor stared at him, as though she scarcely understood the words he was speaking. “Nor can I, Eleanor: that’s the worst of all, or would be so if there were no remedy; I have thought much of all this since we were together last night;” and he came and sat beside her, and put his arm round her waist as he had done then. “I have thought much of what the archdeacon has said, and of what this paper says; and I do believe I have no right to be here.”

“No right to be warden of the hospital, papa?”

“No right to be warden with eight hundred a year; no right to be warden with such a house as this; no right to spend in luxury money that was intended for charity. Mr. Bold may do as he pleases about his suit, but I hope he will not abandon it for my sake.”

Poor Eleanor! this was hard upon her. Was it for this she had made her great resolve? For this that she had laid aside her quiet demeanour, and taken upon her the rants of a tragedy heroine? One may work and not for thanks, but yet feel hurt at not receiving them; and so it was with Eleanor: one may be disinterested in one’s good actions, and yet feel discontented that they are not recognised. Charity may be given with the left hand so privily that the right hand does not know it, and yet the left hand may regret to feel that it has no immediate reward. Eleanor had had no wish to burden her father with a weight of obligation, and yet she had looked forward to much delight from the knowledge that she had freed him from his sorrows: now such hopes were entirely over; all that she had done was of no avail; she had humbled herself to Bold in vain; the evil was utterly beyond her power to cure!

She had thought also how gently she would whisper to her father all that her lover had said to her about herself, and how impossible she had found it to reject him: and then she had anticipated her father’s kindly kiss and close embrace as he gave his sanction to her love. Alas! she could say nothing of this now. In speaking of Mr. Bold, her father put him aside as one whose thoughts and sayings and acts could be of no moment. Gentle reader, did you ever feel yourself snubbed? Did you ever, when thinking

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