girl's ears--"

"I hope not," put in Deb, her patience giving out. "I am not fond of
that kind of talk. I should not believe, either, in any nasty tales
connected with my sister, or with Captain Carey. And you ought not to
listen to them, for Mary's sake. You should not pander to your
high-principled ladies. You should tell them to be more charitable, and
to mind their own business."

A year ago the parson would have taken umbrage at this rebuke; he now
hastened to deprecate displeasure on the part of the one whom, of all
the world, he most desired to please.

"Far be it from me to speak ill of anyone belonging to you," he
declared solemnly; but still he could not help it.

The most good-natured person, if he be greedy, will seek to ingratiate
himself with Power by disparagement of rival suitors. He was following
an impulse that might be described as an instinct, in trying to weaken
Deb's favour towards the rest of her relatives in order to concentrate
as much as possible upon himself--to push back, as it were, the hands
that he imagined eagerly outstretched to her (palm upwards), that the
more might be dropped into his own. He asked her if she had seen Mrs
Breen, and sighed over that plebeian connection.

"I may be poor," said he, "but I do come of a good family. It is
unfortunate, perhaps, but we cannot help our prejudices." "It is a
ridiculous prejudice," said Deb, "especially in a country like this."

"Oh, it is--it is. I own it; but--well, you know--"