To the close friendship which existed between the Squire and the Vicar, constantly cemented by such meetings as we have just described, was owing, in a considerable degree, the general harmony and goodwill which made St. Catherine's one of the most peaceful villages in England. When, many years ago, Mr. Ambrose first became Vicar there, he felt it his duty to make many changes in a parish which had been long neglected, and in a church which was almost a ruin. His labours were then regarded with much suspicion and disfavour; but he had now been long enough resident in the parish to live down all that hostile feeling. Nevertheless, it was not all peace at St. Catherine's. From time to time there would be an importation of cross-grained malcontents, who usually succeeded in stirring up some parochial strife. Such had for some time past been the laudable occupation of William Strike and his too faithful companion, whom, by kind permission of Mr. Gallio, the registrar, he was allowed to call his wife. He had never promised to love her, and she had never promised to obey him, and on these little points each scrupulously maintained a right to act in perfect independence of the other: nevertheless, they heartily united in a common effort to instil into the minds of their neighbours a feeling of hostility to wards the church; and some discord in the parish was the natural consequence. An opportunity offered on the morning of Easter Monday for Strike to find a full vent for all his spleen. It is a sad, sad thought, that at this season of the Christian year, when all should be peace, the bitterness of party strife should break up the harmony of so many parishes. But so it is; and so it was at St. Catherine's; and this one man was at the bottom of all the mischief. "I am sorry to see you are going to the vestry this morning, William," said Mr. Dole, as they met in the village street. "I've as much right there as you have, I suppose," he replied; "you're going to support the Vicar, and I'm going to oppose him thick and thin." "Peace is better than war, William." "Well, _you_ used to be on our side once, and I should like to know what's made you turn round?" "It would take too long to answer that question fully, William. It will be enough if I tell you that where I thought I knew most, I found myself all wrong; and the more I thought and inquired, the more convinced I was that there could be only one true Church committed by Christ to His Apostles and their successors, and that to separate from that, and cause division and schism, must be a sin. After long and prayerful consideration, and many conversations with Mr. Ambrose on the subject, I was convinced that the sect to which I belonged--and you do still--was not the one true Church; and so I left it." "Well, I don't mean to leave it; and I don't mean that the parson shall have it all his own way in this parish."