"I hope Kate has not been rude? I hope you will excuse her heedlessness in this place. She is only a little girl." "It's only the new parson, Lucy," broke in Kate without ceremony. "He says his name's Robert Grame." "Oh, Kate, don't! How shall we ever teach you manners?" reprimanded the young lady, in distress. "She has been very much indulged, sir," turning to the clergyman. "I can well understand that," he said, with a bright smile. "I presume that I have the honour of speaking to the daughter of my patron--Captain Monk?" "No; Captain Monk is my uncle: I am Lucy Carradyne." As the young clergyman stood, hat in hand, a feeling came over him that he had never seen so sweet a face as the one he was looking at. Miss Lucy Carradyne was saying to herself, "What a nice countenance he has! What kindly, earnest eyes!" "This little lady tells me her name is Kate." "Kate Dancox," said Lucy, as the child danced away. "Her mother was Captain Monk's eldest daughter; she died when Kate was born. My uncle is very fond of Kate; he will hardly have her controlled at all." "I have been in to see my church! John Cale has been doing its honours for me," smiled Mr. Grame. "It is a pretty little edifice." "Yes, and I hope you will like it; I hope you will like the parish," frankly returned Lucy. "I shall be sure to do that, I think. As soon, at least, as I can feel convinced that it is to be really mine," he added, with a quaint expression. "When I heard, a week ago, that Captain Monk had presented me--an entire stranger to him--with the living of Church Leet, I could not believe it. It is not often that a nameless curate, without influence, is spontaneously remembered." "It is not much of a living," said Lucy, meeting the words half jestingly. "Worth, I believe, about a hundred and sixty pounds a-year." "But that is a great rise for me--and I have a house to myself large and beautiful--and am a Vicar and no longer a curate," he returned, laughingly. "I cannot _imagine_, though, how Captain Monk came to give it me. Have you any idea how it was, Miss Carradyne?" Lucy's face flushed. She could not tell this gentleman the truth: that another clergyman had been fixed upon, one who would have been especially welcome to the parishioners; that Captain Monk had all but nominated him to the living. But it chanced to reach the Captain's ears that this clergyman had expressed his intention of holding the Communion service monthly, instead of quarterly as heretofore, so he put the question to him. Finding it to be true, he withdrew his promise; he would not have old customs broken in upon by modern innovation, he said; and forthwith he appointed the Reverend Robert Grame. "I do not even know how Captain Monk heard of me," continued Mr. Grame, marking Lucy's hesitation. "I believe you were recommended to him by one of the clergy attached to Worcester Cathedral," said Lucy.--"And I think I must wish you good-morning now."