her with curiosity.

"At Hollingford; that is to say, near it. I am secretary to Lady
Ogram--I don't know whether you ever heard of her?"

"Ogram? I know the name. I am very glad indeed to hear that you have
such a pleasant position. And your father? It is very long since I
heard from him."

"He has a curacy at Liverpool, and seems to be all right. My mother
died about two years ago."

The matter-of-fact tone in which this information was imparted
caused Mr. Lashmar to glance at the speaker's face. Though very
little of an observer, he was comforted by an assurance that Miss
Bride's features were less impassive than her words. Indeed, the
cold abruptness with which she spoke was sufficient proof of feeling
roughly subdued.

Some six years had now elapsed since the girl's father, after acting
for a short time as curate to Mr. Lashmar, accepted a living in
another county. The technical term, in this case, was rich in
satiric meaning; Mr. Bride's incumbency quickly reduced him to
pauperism. At the end of the first twelvemonth in his rural benefice
the unfortunate cleric made a calculation that he was legally
responsible for rather more than twice the sum of money represented
by his stipend and the offertories. The church needed a new roof;
the parsonage was barely habitable for long lack of repairs; the
church school lost its teacher through default of salary--and so
on. With endless difficulty Mr. Bride escaped from his vicarage to