"We none of us do that so thoroughly as to require no other source of happiness. Go on, Dumpling, and do your duty." "I see that you are very careful in doing yours." "Perhaps you will hardly believe me, but I wish Lord Stapledean had never given me the living." "Well; it is difficult to believe that. Think what it has been for your sisters." "I know we should have been very poor, but we should not have starved. I had my fellowship, and I could have taken pupils. I am sure we should have been happier. And then--" "And then--well?" said Adela; and as she spoke, her heart was not quite at rest within her breast. "Then I should have been free. Since I took that living, I have been a slave." Again he paused a moment, and whipped the horse; but it was only now for a moment that he was silent. "Yes, a slave. Do you not see what a life I live? I could be content to sacrifice myself to my mother if the sacrifice were understood. But you see how it is with her. Nothing that I can do will satisfy her; and yet for her I have sacrificed everything--everything." "A sacrifice is no sacrifice if it be agreeable. The sacrifice consists in its being painful." "Well, I suppose so. I say that to myself so often. It is the only consolation I have." "Not that I think your home should be made uncomfortable to you. There is no reason why it should be. At least, I should think not." She spoke with little spasmodic efforts, which, however, did not betray themselves to her companion, who seemed to her to be almost more engaged with Dumpling than with the conversation. It certainly had been through no wish of hers that they were thus talking of his household concerns; but as they were speaking of them, she was forced into a certain amount of hypocrisy. It was a subject on which she could not speak openly. There was then another hill to be walked up, and Adela thought there would be no more of it. The matter had come up by accident, and would now, probably, drop away. But no. Whether by design, or from chance, or because no other topic presented itself, Arthur went back to the subject, and did so now in a manner that was peculiarly startling to Miss Gauntlet. "Do you remember my calling once at West Putford, soon after I got the living? It is a long time ago now, and I don't suppose you do remember it." "Yes, I do; very well." "And do you remember what I told you then?" "What was it?" said Adela. It clearly is the duty of a young lady on very many occasions to be somewhat hypocritical. "If there be any man to whose happiness marriage is more necessary than to that of another, it is a country clergyman." "Yes, I can believe that. That is, if there be not ladies of his own family living with him." "I do not know that that makes any difference." "Oh, yes; it must make a difference. I think that a man must be very wretched who has no one to look after his house."