and could read, write, and cypher well.  Added to this, his knowledge of foreign lands was great, and of men and manners greater.  Under a careless exterior, he had a considerable portion of talent and information, and Rowland was delighted to find in his sea-faring, roystering brother, a much more cultivated and sensible mind than he had expected.  Rowland was beginning to be conscious of wishing to see all his family superior to what they were.  Placed by his own profession amongst gentle-folks, and feeling in himself all the refinement of the class so called, he was often annoyed and pained to be differently situated from those who were nearest and dearest to him.  He knew that in London he was received as an equal by men and women of rank and position, as well as by those of talent and learning; whereas, in the country, even Miss Gwynne, at whose house he visited, considered it a condescension to speak to him, whilst she looked upon those who belonged to him as people of another sphere.  In spite of all his prayers for humility, and his striving after pure Christianity, Rowland was, and knew that he was a proud man, and all the prouder because his original station was beneath his present one.  He felt that he must be humbled before he could be the pastor and disciple of One whose whole life was a lesson of humility.  But the world knew nothing of this.  He walked before it, and through it as a bright example of a young clergyman devoted to his work.  Neither was he less devoted to his mother, dutiful to his father, or loving to his brother, because they were good, honest, plain farmers, and he a clergyman; or which was, perhaps, more to the point, because Miss Gwynne could not, or would not separate him from his family.

When he and his brother and sister were children, they were constantly at the vicarage with their uncle and aunt, and Miss Gwynne was their playmate there, and had not known their inferiority.  Now that he really was a man of education and a gentleman, in spite of all her kindness to his mother, she knew it full well.  Why did he never consider what any one else in his own neighbourhood thought of him or his family?  It was only Miss Gwynne—­always Miss Gwynne.

Early the following morning that young lady came to inquire for Mrs Prothero, accompanied by Miss Hall.  It was Rowland who gave them the joyful intelligence that his mother had had a good night, and was much more quiet.  The real pleasure that shone from Miss Gwynne’s intelligent and intelligible eyes, showed Rowland how fond she was of his mother.

‘And now,’ she said, ’Miss Hall and I are come, resolutely bent on remaining with your mother, whilst your aunt and Gladys go to bed.  We are quite determined, and you know I always have my way.’

Rowland bowed, smiled, and called his aunt, who, after some hesitation consented, and went upstairs to request Gladys to do the same, but Gladys was inexorable until Mr Prothero came in, and in his most decided manner insisted on her taking some rest.  Mrs Prothero also murmured a ‘Go, Gladys fach!’ and she kissed the dear cheek and went at once.