intervening summer, in Madeira. Very definitely they assured him that
such an absence was his only chance of assuring a fair share of the
ordinary term of human life. But it was a difficult thing to do, apart
from the hardness of the struggle; and the difficulty just verged upon
an impossibility. The living was not a rich one, its whole income being
a little under L400 a year. Now, when he had provided a salary for the
curate who must take his duty, and decided upon the smallest sum
necessary for his own expenses, the remainder, in whatever way the sum
was worked, was clearly quite insufficient for the maintenance of his
young wife and child. They could not go with him; that was impossible.
But how were they to live whilst he was away? No doubt, if his
difficulty had been known, there were many wealthy people among his
friends who would gladly have removed it; but not one of them even
guessed at it. Was not Mrs. Bolton, the widow of the late archdeacon,
and the richest woman in Upton, own aunt to the rector, David Chantrey?

Next to Mr. Chantrey himself, Mrs. Bolton was the most eminent personage
in Upton. She had settled there upon the archdeacon's death, which
happened immediately after he had obtained the living for his wife's
favorite nephew. For some years she had been the only lady connected
with the rector, and had acted as his female representative. There was
neither mansion nor cottage which she had not visited. The high were her
associates; the low her proteges, for whose souls she labored. She was
at the head of all charitable agencies and benevolent societies. Nothing
could be set on foot in Upton under any other patronage. She was active,
untiring, and not very susceptible. So early and so completely had she
obtained the little sovereignty she had assumed, that when the rightful
queen came there was no room for her. The rector's wife was only known
as a pretty and pleasant-spoken young lady, who left all the parish
affairs in Mrs. Bolton's hands.