woman, had shown herself politely oblivious of him. And he a clergyman too! Ah, there was the rub--the egotism of the good creature was a divided egotism, after all; he could not understand feminine indifference to the cloth! His experiences were partly Polynesian, and partly Claphamite, and he judged, as he lived, according to his lights. When the Rev. Decimus, then, spoke of Katharine with solemn horror, as an utterly lost sheep, and without the slightest suggestion that it was any body's business to follow her into the wilderness and bring her back, Ellen listened to him with her usual adoring respect, and made no protest. As her future husband, and a clergyman _in esse_, Decimus was doubly a law to her; and obedience was as deep-seated in Ellen's nature as revolt is in that of some women. Her curiosity respecting the cause of Katharine's flight, the "cause of complaint" against her brother which Robert had assigned, without explaining, remained in her mind long after her sorrow and her affection for the lost sheep had subsided. There was not the least probability that it would ever be gratified; and she began to take the view of the matter insinuated by Mr. Dutton, though he had not the smallest grounds for such a conjecture, and was innocent of intentional slander in the suggestion. "Rely upon it, Ellen," he had said, "Robert's generosity leads him to shelter his unhappy wife from additional disgrace, by assuming the blame of this wretched business himself. I daresay he made some discovery concerning her former life--the life of a worldling and an unbeliever, my dearest, has no doubt always disgraceful secrets in it--and this is the result. Your brother is very generous, and I am sure capable of such a sacrifice." This was quite a new idea to Ellen, and it took some time to absorb; but at length she said, with a little air of wisdom: "Well, but, Decimus, in that case he would know where she is, and all about her." "And how do you know that he does not know? He never says a word on the subject, does he? I think I understood from you that he never mentioned her since he came back to live here." "O no, never; not to mamma even, or to old Alice. He has never once pronounced her name. My reason for thinking he does not know any thing about her is because Hester says she feels sure he does not, and that he and his friends--friends we know nothing about--are making every effort to find out where she is." "Mrs. Frere is always right, to be sure; but in this case, I think, she would be certain to know it positively, if such were the case. Frere would know it--he is so great a friend and ally of Robert--and he would tell her. No, no, Ellen; on this point I stick to my own opinion." Which was, indeed, the reverend gentleman's habit in all matters wherein he differed from his fellow-creatures.