But the good man, unconscious of repulse and kindly disposed towards his sister's waif, stuck to him, and, as they walked down the churchyard together, the difference between the manners of official and those of private life proved to be so melting to the temper that even David's began to yield.

And a little incident of the walk mollified him completely.

As they turned a corner they came upon a bit of waste land, and there in the centre of an admiring company was the sexton's enemy, mounted on a bit of wall, and dealing out their deserts in fine style to those meddling parsons and their underlings who despised genius and took no heed of the relics of the mighty dead.

The sexton stopped to listen when they were nearly out of range, and was fairly carried away by the 'go' of the orator.
'Doan't he do it nateral!' he said with enthusiasm to David, after a passage specially and unflatteringly devoted to himself.

'Lor' bless yo, it don't hurt me.