"I only mentioned it because--it was merely in the most general way; I--I--did not mean to compare--oh, not at all--of course I should never discuss a lady's worth, as it were.

I spoke in confidence; I merely wondered what your opinion might be--not"-- cried Mr.Denner, bursting into a cold perspiration of fright to see how far his embarrassment had betrayed him--"not that I really care to know! Oh, not at all!" The rector flung his head back, and his rollicking laugh jarred the very papers on Mr.Denner's desk.
"It is just as well you don't, for I am sure I could not say.

I respect them both immensely.

I have from boyhood," he added, with a droll look.
Mr.Denner coughed nervously.
"It is not of the slightest consequence," he explained,--"not the slightest.

I spoke thoughtlessly; ah--unadvisedly." "Of course, of course; I understand," cried the rector, and forbore to add a good-natured jest at Mr.Denner's embarrassment, which was really painful.
But when he was well out of hearing, he could not restrain a series of chuckles.
"By Jove!" he cried, clapping his thigh, "Denner!--Denner and Miss Deborah! Bless my soul,--Denner!" His mirth, however, did not last long; some immediate annoyances of his own forced themselves into his mind.
Before he went to the lawyer's office, he had had a talk with Mrs.Dale, which had not been pleasant; then a letter from Helen had come; and now an anxious wrinkle showed itself under his fur cap, as he walked back to the rectory.
He had gone over to show Mr.Dale a somewhat highly seasoned sketch in "Bell's Life;" in the midst of their enjoyment of it, they were interrupted by Mrs.Dale.
"I want to speak to you about Lois, brother.