A missionary
curate in New Zealand will be a very different personage from the rector
of Upton."
He looked at his aunt with a smile, and an expression of hope, such as
had not lit up his gray face for many a month. This new life opening
before him, with all its social disadvantages, and many privations,
would give his wife such an opportunity for recovery as the
conventionalities of society at home could not furnish. Hope had visited
him again, and he cherished it as a most welcome visitant.
"Good Heavens!" cried Mrs. Bolton, lost in astonishment, "David, you
must not throw yourself away in this manner! I will see the bishop
myself, and recall to his memory his old friendship for the archdeacon.
He cannot have promised the living yet to any one. What would become of
me, here in Upton, settled as I am, with a stranger in the rectory? Why
did you not ask my advice before taking such a rash step?"
"Because I should not have followed your advice," he answered. "I
settled the whole matter in my own mind before I broached it even to
Warden. It is the only chance for us both.
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