Sorry for her husband in his loss of a friend who had been none of hers, she was yet quite unprepared for the sequel.
'There is something that I have wanted to tell you lately, dear,' he said one morning at breakfast with hesitation.

'Have you guessed what it is ?' She had guessed nothing.
'That I think of retiring from the army.' 'What!' 'I have thought more and more of Sainway since his death, and of what he used to say to me so earnestly.

And I feel certain I shall be right in obeying a call within me to give up this fighting trade and enter the Church.' 'What--be a parson ?' 'Yes.' 'But what should I do ?' 'Be a parson's wife.' 'Never!' she affirmed.
'But how can you help it ?' 'I'll run away rather!' she said vehemently; 'No, you mustn't,' Maumbry replied, in the tone he used when his mind was made up.

'You'll get accustomed to the idea, for I am constrained to carry it out, though it is against my worldly interests.

I am forced on by a Hand outside me to tread in the steps of Sainway.' 'Jack,' she asked, with calm pallor and round eyes; 'do you mean to say seriously that you are arranging to be a curate instead of a soldier ?' 'I might say a curate is a soldier--of the church militant; but I don't want to offend you with doctrine.