"What on earth shall I do with him to-morrow, I should like to know?" was the first question that suggested itself--much more readily than did the answer. He could not be expected to go to church, perhaps; but would he stay quietly at home? or walk off to assist the very reverend Jabez at Mount Pisgah? As to his keeping his appointment at S----, that at least was out of the question; and, after all, there seemed so much good sense and feeling of propriety about the traveller, that it was most probable--at least Harry thought so--that he would not in any way offend against the rules of the household which he had entered under such circumstances. So the curate brushed the clinging rain from his hair, and the cloud from his brow, with one and the same motion, and relapsed into his usual state of good-humour. Supper came in, and he and his guest sat down opposite to each other, and prepared to discuss old Molly's simple cookery. Really, now that one could look at him well, the man was very presentable in person as well as in manner. Harry said grace in a very few words, and the other's "Amen" was audible and unexceptionable; reverent, and not nasal. He had a capital appetite: it was said to be characteristic of his calling, but in that point Harry fully kept pace with him; and the conversation was not, for the present, a very lively one. Sam came in at last to take away. "Sam," said the curate in a half-aside, "_is_ there a bottle of port?--here's the key." "La! sir, you bid me take it down to old Nan, you know; and it wor the last bottle, I tell'd you then." "Ha! so I did, so I did. Did she like it, Sam?" "Like it?" said Sam, opening his eyes, "I warrant her!" "Well, Sam, I hope it did her good;--never mind. You must fare as I do, I am afraid," said he to the other. "Bring out the whisky-jar, Sam." Bolton mixed himself a glass without further preface or apology; and his neighbour, with the remark that it could not be much amiss after a wetting, very moderately followed his example. "And now," said Bolton, rummaging in a little cupboard behind him, "I hope you don't dislike the smell of tobacco. I'm rather too fond of it myself. My weakness is a pipe: I could find you a cigar, perhaps, if you are ever--" "Thank you, I never do smoke; but pray do not mind me: I was at a German university for a year and a half, and that is a pretty fair apprenticeship to cloud-raising." Took a doctor's degree there, no doubt, thought Harry; but it served excellently as an opening for general conversation; and two pipes had been consumed, and Molly had twice informed the gentlemen that the beds were all ready, and that Sam was waiting to know if there were any orders for to-morrow, before Harry remembered that he had a sermon still to finish, and that it was verging upon Sunday morning--so intelligent and agreeable had been the discourse of the stranger.