“Certainly I shall, Mr Maguire.”

“They are the best, always. If, then, I am plain with you, will you be plain with me also? I think you must guess what it is I have to say to you.”

“I hate guessing anything, Mr Maguire.”

“Very well; then I will be plain. We have now known each other for nearly a year, Miss Mackenzie.”

“A year, is it? No, not a year. This is the beginning of June, and I did not come here till the end of last August. It’s about nine months, Mr Maguire.”

“Very well; nine months. Nine months may be as nothing in an acquaintance, or it may lead to the closest friendship.”

“I don’t know that we have met so very often. You have the parish to attend to, Mr Maguire.”

“Of course I have—or rather I had, for I have left Mr Stumfold.”

“Left Mr Stumfold! Why, I heard you preach yesterday.”

“I did preach yesterday, and shall till he has got another assistant. But he and I are parted as regards all friendly connection.”

“But isn’t that a pity?”

“Miss Mackenzie, I don’t mind telling you that I have found it impossible to put up with the impertinence of that woman”—and now, as he spoke, there came a distorted fire out of his imperfect eye—“impossible! If you knew what I have gone through in attempting it! But that’s over. I have the greatest respect for him in the world; a very thorough esteem. He is a hard-working man, and though I do not always approve the style of his wit,—of which, by-the-bye, he thinks too much himself,—still I acknowledge him to be a good spiritual pastor. But he has been unfortunate in his marriage. No doubt he has got money, but money is not everything.”

“Indeed, it is not, Mr Maguire.”

“How he can live in the same house with that Mr Peters, I can never understand. The quarrels between him and his daughter are so incessant that poor Mr Stumfold is unable to conceal them from the public.”

“But you have spoken so highly of her.”

“I have endeavoured, Miss Mackenzie—I have endeavoured to think well of her. I have striven to believe that it was all gold that I saw. But let that pass. I was forced to tell you that I am going to leave Mr Stumfold’s church, or I should not now have spoken about her or him. And now comes the question, Miss Mackenzie.”

“What is the question, Mr Maguire?”

“Miss Mackenzie—Margaret, will you share your lot with mine? It is true that you have money. It is true that I have none,—not even a curacy now. But I don’t think that any such consideration as that would weigh with you for a moment, if you can find it in your heart to love me.”

Miss Mackenzie sat thinking for some minutes before she gave her answer—or striving to think; but she was so completely under the terrible fire of his eye, that any thought was very difficult.