PARSON.--"Yes, sir--the Devil; and even he, sir, did not succeed! Even he, sir, is what your great men would call a most decided failure." MRS DALE.--"My dear--my dear." PARSON.--"Our religion proves it, my love; he was an angel, and he fell." There was a solemn pause. Randal was more impressed than he liked to own to himself. By this time the dinner was over, and the servants had retired. Harry glanced at Carry. Carry smoothed her gown and rose. The gentlemen remained over their wine; and the Parson, satisfied with what he deemed a clencher upon his favourite subject of discussion, changed the subject to lighter topics, till happening to fall upon tithes, the Squire struck in, and by dint of loudness of voice, and truculence of brow, fairly overwhelmed both his guests, and proved to his own satisfaction that tithes were an unjust and unchristian-like usurpation on the part of the Church generally, and a most especial and iniquitous infliction upon the Hazeldean estates in particular. CHAPTER IX. On entering the drawing-room, Randal found the two ladies seated close together, in a position much more appropriate to the familiarity of their school-days than to the politeness of the friendship now existing between them. Mrs Hazeldean's hand hung affectionately over Carry's shoulder, and both those fair English faces were bent over the same book. It was pretty to see these sober matrons, so different from each other in character and aspect, thus unconsciously restored to the intimacy of happy maiden youth by the golden link of some Magician from the still land of Truth or Fancy--brought together in heart, as each eye rested on the same thought;--closer and closer, as sympathy, lost in the actual world, grew out of that world which unites in one bond of feeling the readers of some gentle book. "And what work interests you so much?" said Randal, pausing by the table. "One you have read, of course," replied Mrs Dale, putting a bookmark embroidered by herself into the page, and handing the volume to Randal. "It has made a great sensation, I believe." Randal glanced at the title of the work. "True," said he, "I have heard much of it in London, but I have not yet had time to read it." MRS DALE.--"I can lend it to you, if you like to look over it to-night, and you can leave it for me with Mrs Hazeldean." PARSON, (approaching.)--"Oh! that book!--yes, you must read it. I do not know a work more instructive." RANDAL.--"Instructive! Certainly I will read it then. But I thought it was a mere work of amusement--of fancy. It seems so, as I look over it." PARSON.--"So is the _Vicar of Wakefield_; yet what book more instructive?" RANDAL.--"I should not have said _that_ of the _Vicar of Wakefield_. A pretty book enough, though the story is most improbable. But how is it instructive?"