done; and the Fates had apparently succeeded very effectively in
getting rid of Manning. All he could do was to make the best of a
bad business.

Accordingly, in the first place, he decided that he had received
a call from God 'ad veritatem et ad seipsum'; and, in the second,
forgetting Miss Deffell, he married his rector's daughter. Within
a few months the rector died, and Manning stepped into his shoes;
and at least it could be said that the shoes were not
uncomfortable. For the next seven years he fulfilled the
functions of a country clergyman. He was energetic and devout; he
was polite and handsome; his fame grew in the diocese. At last he
began to be spoken of as the probable successor to the old
Archdeacon of Chichester. When Mrs. Manning prematurely died, he
was at first inconsolable, but he found relief in the distraction
of redoubled work. How could he have guessed that one day he
would come to number that loss among 'God's special mercies? Yet
so it was to be. In after years, the memory of his wife seemed to
be blotted from his mind; he never spoke of her; every letter,
every record, of his married life he destroyed; and when word was
sent to him that her grave was falling into ruin: 'It is best
so,' the Cardinal answered, 'let it be. Time effaces all things.'
But, when the grave was yet fresh, the young Rector would sit
beside it, day after day, writing his sermons.

II

IN the meantime, a series of events was taking place in another
part of England, which was to have a no less profound effect upon
Manning's history than the merciful removal of his wife. In the