at a moment when all around him were entranced by the eloquence of the youthful divine, a sudden and deep-drawn sigh drew every eye to the rector’s pew.  The younger stranger sat motionless as a statue, holding in his arms the lifeless body of his parent, who had fallen that moment a corpse by his side.  All was now confusion:  the almost insensible young man was relieved from his burden; and, led by the rector, they left the church.  The congregation dispersed in silence, or assembled in little groups, to converse on the awful event they had witnessed.  None knew the deceased; he was the rector’s friend, and to his residence the body was removed.  The young man was evidently his child; but here all information ended.  They had arrived in a private chaise, but with post horses, and without attendants.  Their arrival at the parsonage was detailed by the Jarvis ladies with a few exaggerations that gave additional interest to the whole event, and which, by creating an impression with some whom gentler feelings would not have restrained, that there was something of mystery about them, prevented many distressing questions to the Ives’s, that the baronet’s family forbore putting, on the score of delicacy.  The body left B——­ at the close of the week, accompanied by Francis Ives and the unweariedly attentive and interesting son.  The doctor and his wife went into deep mourning, and Clara received a short note from her lover, on the morning of their departure, acquainting her with his intended absence for a month, but throwing no light upon the affair.  The London papers, however, contained the following obituary notice, and which, as it could refer to no other person, as a matter of course, was supposed to allude to the rector’s friend.

“Died, suddenly, at B——­, on the 20th instant, George Denbigh, Esq., aged 63.”

Chapter VI.

During the week of mourning, the intercourse between Moseley Hall and the rectory was confined to messages and notes of inquiry after each other’s welfare:  but the visit of the Moseleys to the deanery had been returned; and the day after the appearance of the obituary paragraph, the family of the latter dined by invitation at the Hall.  Colonel Egerton had recovered the use of his leg, and was included in the party.  Between this gentleman and Mr. Benfield there appeared, from the first moment of their introduction, a repugnance which was rather increased by time, and which the old gentleman manifested by a demeanor loaded with the overstrained ceremony of the day, and which, in the colonel, only showed itself by avoiding, when possible, all intercourse with the object of his aversion.  Both Sir Edward and Lady Moseley, on the contrary, were not slow in manifesting their favorable impressions in behalf of the gentleman.  The latter, in particular, having ascertained to her satisfaction that he was the undoubted heir to the title, and most probably to the estates of his uncle, Sir Edgar Egerton, felt