surprised at her firmness, and it was only when he hinted at moral
reasons for their union that she was ever shaken. 'Strictly
speaking,' he would say, 'we ought, as honest persons, to marry; and
that's the truth of it, Leonora.'

'I have looked at it in that light,' she said quickly. 'It struck me
at the very first. But I don't see the force of the argument. I
totally deny that after this interval of time I am bound to marry you
for honour's sake. I would have married you, as you know well
enough, at the proper time. But what is the use of remedies now?'

They were standing at the window. A scantly-whiskered young man, in
clerical attire, called at the door below. Leonora flushed with
interest.

'Who is he?' said Mr. Millborne.

'My Frances's lover. I am so sorry--she is not at home! Ah! they
have told him where she is, and he has gone to find her . . . I hope
that suit will prosper, at any rate!'

'Why shouldn't it?'

'Well, he cannot marry yet; and Frances sees but little of him now he
has left Exonbury. He was formerly doing duty here, but now he is
curate of St. John's, Ivell, fifty miles up the line. There is a
tacit agreement between them, but--there have been friends of his who
object, because of our vocation. However, he sees the absurdity of
such an objection as that, and is not influenced by it.'