A Book for the Young | Page 6

branches of the family; they are rarely actuated by pious motives."
"We had only one service a-day till Mr. Barclay came, and now he officiates morning and
evening, besides managing to do duty, in the afternoon, for a sick clergyman, who lives
five miles off, and has a large family, two of whom our worthy curate educates,--"
"No more," Ethelind, or my heart will be irrecoverably gone; but what large house is that
I see among the trees?"
"That is Eardly House."
"And do the family ever reside there?"
"They have not, since we have been in this part of the world, but when in England, I am
told, they spend part of every summer here."
"And if they come, they will spoil both our pleasure and our privacy; say what you will,
great people are a nuisance in a small village."
"To those who are situated like us, I grant it is unpleasant, but they may do a great deal of
good to their poor tenants. But, hark, it is striking two,--our dinner hour,--mamma will

wonder what is become of us; there is a short cut through the Park, which we will take, it
will save, at least, a quarter of a mile." So through the Park they went, and as they left it,
to cross the road, a gentleman suddenly turned the corner, and Mr. Barclay stood full
before them.
"Why, Mr. Barclay," exclaimed Ethelind, "where, in the name of wonder, did you come
from? did you rise from the lake, or drop from the clouds? I thought you were many
miles away."
"And so I expected to be," said he, shaking hands with her, and bowing to Beatrice, "but
circumstances wholly unexpected, compelled me to return."
"And are you going to remain?"
"For some months, I believe."
"I am really glad to hear it, and so, I am sure, will mamma be; but in the agreeable
surprise your unlooked for return gave, I forgot to introduce Miss Trevor." The
conversation now took a general turn, and Mr. Barclay accompanied them to their door,
where he only staid to shake hands with Mrs. Fortescue, and then took his leave,
promising to return in the evening.
As may naturally be supposed, many weeks followed of delightful intercourse; Mr.
Barclay, when ever it did not interfere with his duties, was the constant attendant of
Ethelind, and Beatrice; he spent every evening at Mrs. Fortescue's cottage, affording
much speculation to the village gossips, as to which of the two young ladies would
ultimately become the curate's choice. With their aid he carried out his much cherished
object of establishing a Sunday School, and everything was going on quietly, till, at
length, an unusual bustle was observed in the village; artizans of every description were
sent from London, and the news was soon spread, that after the necessary repairs and
preparations were completed, the family might be expected.
This was anything but welcome intelligence to Ethelind and Beatrice, who feared all their
enjoyment would be disturbed. When Mr. Barclay came in the evening, he confirmed the
report and little else was talked of.
"It is really provoking," said Ethelind "I am quite of Beatrice's opinion, and think great
folks anything but desirable in such a small place, at least, to people circumstanced as we
are."
"I am of opinion," said Mr. Barclay, "you will find it quite the reverse."
"Shall you remain as curate," asked Mrs. Fortescue.
"Frederic Eardly purposes to make poor Bennet his curate."
"But if he is so ill he will not be able to do the duty," said Beatrice.
"It is not hard, and Eardly is well able to do it himself."
"But will he," said she, "I really feel curious, to see how this embryo bishop will get on,
as I suppose nothing less is the object of his taking orders."
"Oh, Miss Trevor, judge not so harshly. Is it not possible that in singleness of heart, he
may have gone into the Church, unmindful of all but the sacred calling? I do not pretend
to judge, but I believe no worldly honour or pecuniary consideration influenced his
choice, as I know his grandfather left him quite independent."
"Oh, don't tell me, Mr. Barclay, it is very unlikely; but it is natural that you should take
his part because--"
"Because, what?" responded Mr. Barclay, "do you think money or interest would prompt
me to say what I don't think or mean?"

"No," said Beatrice, "I think you the last person in the world to truckle to the great,--but
no more of this; what kind of a being is this Frederic Eardly?"
"I am a poor judge of character, besides, you would hardly give me credit for being
impartial. They say he is spoilt by his mother and sisters, by