“In my dear husband’s time,” she said, “the clergy of a parish were never both absent even for a day. He would have been shocked beyond description at the idea. Do you think it can be right, Mr. Pandolfini, for both the rector and the curate to be away together? If any one is sick, what is to become of them? and they are not even married, so as to leave some one behind who could look after the poor. Do you think it can be right under any circumstances?” And this anxious champion of justice fixed her eyes with an almost severe appeal on the Italian’s face. “Can I tell?” he answered, throwing up his hands and his shoulders with a characteristic gesture. “The curate never leaves his parish in my country. When he would have leisure, he takes it among the rest. A poor priest does not think of _villeggiatura_, what you call holidays. He is too poor----” “But even the rector,” said Mrs. Norton, insisting. “Of course, if there is a very good curate--yes, yes, they are generally poor in England as well as in other places--a poor curate, that is what people are always saying; but even the rector. Of course, I forgot, I beg your pardon, your priests are never married, poor wretched men! What a bondage to put upon a man! don’t you think so, Mr. Pandolfini?” He laughed; perhaps this little woman and her talk was a relief at the moment. He said: “I have my prejudices. Your English gentleman who is a curate, I do not know him. He is a clergyman: that is different. We may not judge one the other.” “I don’t wish to judge any one; but surely, Mr. Pandolfini, anything so unnatural----” “Not always unnatural. Me! I do not marry myself.” “But you will one day,” said Mrs. Norton, decidedly. “Of course you will. Now, why should not you marry? I am sure you would be a great deal happier. Those who have not known what it is,” said the little lady with a sigh, “cannot be expected to realise--ah! the difference between being alone in the world and having some one to love you and care for you! Since I lost my dear husband, how changed life has been! Before that, I never did anything for myself; he stood between me and every trouble----” “But in that way I think it would be better for a man not to have a wife,” cried Mrs. Hunstanton. “I dare say Mr. Pandolfini does not want to take a woman on his shoulders, and do everything for her. Tom does not stand between me and every trouble, I can tell you. He pushes a good share of his on to my shoulders, and gives me many a tangled skein to untwist. I never try to persuade my friends to marry; but you shouldn’t frighten them----” “I--frighten them!” Mrs. Norton’s horror was too deep for words. “I think it is time for us to say good night,” she resumed, with dignity. “Will you look for my niece, Mr. Pandolfini, while I speak a word to Diana? I really cannot let my child be late to-night.”