He wrote as he felt, and under the influence of those strong, half-curbed feelings, wrote so easily, that he was astonished to find how quickly he composed, and how soon a sufficient number of sheets were written, to occupy his customary half-hour when preached. He did not read them over, but promised to do so on the morrow, which was Saturday. He was already far into the small hours, and knew that he ought to be in bed. When he was there he could not sleep. That love of his was too deeply-rooted to be torn up by a few proud words that haunted him all the night, and to which he was constantly adding 'Yes, you are the heiress of Glanyravon, and I am only a farmer's son and a poor curate.' CHAPTER XXII. THE GOVERNESS. 'Only a curate!' exclaimed Miss Gwynne, as she and Miss Hall were discussing Rowland's presumption the following morning. 'Still, a gentleman,' replied Miss Hall quietly. 'The son of one of my father's tenants; a farmer's son!' 'Still, a gentleman!' 'The ninety-ninth attempt on Glanyravon, and, happily, an unsuccessful one.' 'Perhaps the first sincere attempt to gain the heiress's heart, without any thought of her park and its broad acres.' 'I declare, Serena, _vous m'impatientez_. I verily believe you are in his interest and confidence, and trying to plead his cause.' This was said with great excitement; the answer, however, was calm. 'Scarcely possible, if probable, because I was never alone with him in my life, and have rarely seen him except in your presence.' 'Then, why do you take up his defence? You would not have me marry him, would you?' 'Certainly not, for many reasons. In the first place, you do not love him; in the second, your father would not approve of such a match; in the third, you are not suited to him.' 'I understand. Not good enough. But why do you defend him? Do you think it was right of him to say what he did to me?' 'Well, perhaps not. But I think he has been nursing these feelings for you so long, that he began to forget whether they were right or wrong, sensible or foolish; and last night, carried away by the excitement of the day and his own success, and finding himself alone with you--you, probably, more friendly than usual--he forgot his customary prudence, and overstepped the bounds of conventionality.' 'Very well said, Nita. Then it was wrong of me to be friendly, and right of him to make a dunce of himself.' 'Perhaps if you had ever felt as he does, Freda, you might make some excuse for him.' 'I am sure you must have been in love a hundred times, you are so sentimental, and would like to see him run away with me.' 'Quite wrong again.' 'Then what would you like, for I am sure you don't approve of my conduct?' 'Simply, that you should have treated a clergyman and a gentleman as such, and at least felt grateful that a good and honest heart was offered to you, even though you would not accept it.'