As may naturally be supposed, many weeks followed of delightful
intercourse; Mr. Barclay, when ever it did not interfere with his
duties, was the constant attendant of Ethelind, and Beatrice; he spent
every evening at Mrs. Fortescue's cottage, affording much speculation
to the village gossips, as to which of the two young ladies would
ultimately become the curate's choice. With their aid he carried out
his much cherished object of establishing a Sunday School, and
everything was going on quietly, till, at length, an unusual bustle
was observed in the village; artizans of every description were sent
from London, and the news was soon spread, that after the necessary
repairs and preparations were completed, the family might be expected.

This was anything but welcome intelligence to Ethelind and Beatrice,
who feared all their enjoyment would be disturbed. When Mr. Barclay
came in the evening, he confirmed the report and little else was
talked of.

"It is really provoking," said Ethelind "I am quite of Beatrice's
opinion, and think great folks anything but desirable in such a small
place, at least, to people circumstanced as we are."

"I am of opinion," said Mr. Barclay, "you will find it quite the
reverse."

"Shall you remain as curate," asked Mrs. Fortescue.

"Frederic Eardly purposes to make poor Bennet his curate."

"But if he is so ill he will not be able to do the duty," said