I was persuaded, and went with her. The day was not so miserable out of doors as it looked within, and it was still scarcely past mid-day, and there were many people abroad. We had not gone far before we met Mr. Osborne, who had a clergyman with him--a tall, meagre, middle-aged man, in very precise clerical dress, about whom there was a certain look of asceticism and extreme devotion, which, as it happened, chimed in with my mood of the moment. Mr. Osborne and I met very drily after our late quarrel. I had not softened in my resentment towards him, and he was impatient and angry with me--so that I thought it was mere aggravation, and a desire to exasperate me, which tempted him to introduce his companion to "Mrs. Southcote of Cottiswoode;" it was the first time I had heard my name stated so, and I could not subdue the start and tremor with which I heard it--so that I did not at the instant notice the name of the person introduced to me, and it was only when I heard it repeated, that it struck upon me with a sound more startling than my own. "Mr. Saville is rector of Cottiswoode--the clergyman of your parish--Hester," said Mr. Osborne--"when do you return home?" "On Monday," I said; but my whole attention was fixed upon my new acquaintance--Mr. Saville--I could not think, for the first moment, what association I had with the name, but it was a painful one, and it had something to do with Edgar Southcote. "I am glad to meet my young relative," said the clergyman with a stiff bow--his young relative! Could he mean _me?_ I gazed at him for a moment, but only with a dull astonishment, for it was quite beyond my comprehension what he could mean. "The parish has been much neglected. I hope to bring its necessities before you soon," said the clergyman, in his measured, chanting tone. "I do not despair of making the desert rejoice, with your assistance, Mrs. Southcote; but at present it is in a deplorable condition. No church sentiments, no feeling for what is seemly and in order--there has been no resident on the estates for so many years." "Ah! the young people will rectify that, no doubt," said Mr. Osborne, carelessly. "I am glad to see you out of doors, Hester, and glad to hear that you are going home--your own good sense--I always trusted to that." "I will be glad to do all I can," I said, hurriedly answering the clergyman, and taking no notice of Mr. Osborne; "you will have to instruct me at first, for I am quite ignorant of work. Could I take anything with me that could be of service? pray let me know." "I will make out a list of useful articles--no trouble, pray do not speak of it," said the Rev. Mr. Saville, with a wonderful bow. Mr. Osborne groaned. "I am in some haste," he said sharply. "Good morning, Hester--I shall see you before you leave Cambridge," and as he turned away, I heard him mutter--"Poor, foolish child--is she to comfort herself after this fashion."