Quickly, hurriedly, she put up "her bag of needments," and with a sad, sweet smile of gentle apology, took the curate's place beside his wife, while he got into the seat behind.
Juliet, having been of late so much confined to the house, could not keep back the tears called forth by the pleasure of the rapid motion through the air, the constant change of scene, and that sense of human story which haunts the mind in passing unknown houses and farms and villages.

An old thatched barn works as directly on the social feeling as the ancient castle or venerable manor-seat; many a simple house will move one's heart like a poem; many a cottage like a melody.

When at last she caught sight of the great church-tower, she clapped her hands with delight.

There was a place in which to wander and hide! she thought--in which to find refuge and rest, and coolness and shadow! Even for Faber's own sake she would not believe that faith a mere folly which had built such a pile as that! Surely there was some way of meeting the terrible things he said--if only she could find it! "Are you fastidious, Miss Meredith, or willing to do any thing that is honest ?" the curate asked rather abruptly, leaning forward from the back seat.
"If ever I was fastidious," she answered, "I think I am pretty nearly cured.

I should certainly like my work to be so far within my capacity as to be pleasant to me." "Then there is no fear," answered the curate.