“There could be no difficulty about that!” exclaimed Rachel; but at this moment she saw the Myrtlewood pony carriage coming to the door, and remembering that she had undertaken to drive out Ermine Williams in it, she was obliged to break off the conversation, with an eager entreaty that Mr. Mauleverer would draw up an account of his plan, and bring it to her the next day, when she would give her opinion on it, and consider of the means.

“My dear,” said her mother, on her return, “how long you have been; and what am I to give for the water-colour?”

“Oh, I forgot all about the water-colour; but never mind what we give, mamma, it is all to go to an asylum for educating poor girls, and giving them some resource beyond that weary lace-making—­the very thing I have always longed for.  He is coming to settle it all with me to-morrow, and then we will arrange what to give.”

“Indeed, my dear, I hope it will be something well managed.  I think if it were not for those middle-men, lace-making would not be so bad.  But you must not keep poor Miss Williams waiting.”

Ermine had never seen Rachael in such high spirits as when they set out through the network of lanes, describing her own exceeding delight in the door thus opening for the relief of the suffering over which she had long grieved, and launching out into the details of the future good that was to be achieved.  At last Ermine asked what Rachel knew of the proposer.

“Captain Keith, heard he was a distinguished professor and essayist.”

“Then I wonder we have not heard his name,” said Ermine.  “It is a remarkable one; one might look in the ‘Clergy List’ at Villars’s.”

“Villars called him a clerical gentleman,” mused Rachel.

“Then you would be sure to be able to find out something about him before committing yourself.”

“I can see what he is,” said Rachel, “a very sensible, accomplished man, and a great deal more; not exactly a finished gentleman.  But that is no objection to his doing a great work.”

“None at all,” said Ermine, smiling; “but please forgive me.  We have suffered so much from trusting too implicitly, that I never can think it safe to be satisfied without thorough knowledge of a person’s antecedents.”

“Of course,” said Rachel, “I shall do nothing without inquiry.  I will find out all about him, but I cannot see any opening for distrust.  Schemes of charity are not compatible with self-seeking and dishonesty.”

“But did I not hear something about opinions?”

“Oh, as to that, it was only Villars.  Besides, you are a clergyman’s daughter, and your views have a different colouring from mine.  Modern research has introduced so many variations of thought, that no good work would be done at all if we required of our fellow-labourers perfect similarity of speculative belief.”

“Yet suppose he undertook to teach others?”