"Yes," she said, continuing her musings aloud, "I must not fail in this instance. The rector is a patron who will not spare his gold; and Ellen may not be the only one he may covet. I warrant he will not keep me unemployed! These parsons are terrible fellows when once they give way; and I should think the rector has not been long at this game, or he could scarcely have contrived to maintain his reputation as he has. How the world would be astonished did it know all! But I am astonished at nothing—not I! No—no—I have seen too much in my time. And if I repent of any thing—but no I do not repent:—still, if I _did_ sometimes think of _one_ more than _another_, 'tis of that poor Harriet Wilmot! I should like to know what became of her. It must be sixteen or seventeen years since _that_ occurred;—but the mention of the name of Markham just now, brought it all fresh back again to my mind. Well—it cannot be helped: it was in the way of business like any thing else!" Let us leave the horrible old hag at her musings, and relate a little incident which occurred elsewhere, and which, however trivial the reader may deem it now, is not without importance in respect to a future portion of our narrative. The rector had reached the door of his own house, after his interview with the old hag, and was about to knock when he perceived, by the light of the gas lamp, a strange-looking being standing on the step. "What do you want, my good lad?" asked Reginald. "Please, sir, I want to speak to Kate Wilmot, my cousin," answered Gibbet—for it was he. "Indeed! I suppose, then, that you are the son of—of——" and Reginald stopped; for he did not like to wound the hump-back's feelings by saying "of the hangman," and at that moment he had forgotten the name of Katherine's uncle. "My name is Smithers, sir," said the lad. "Ah! Smithers—so it is," cried the rector. "Well, my good lad, I cannot think of preventing Katherine's relations from coming to see her if they choose; but, as she is now in a good place and respectably settled, it would perhaps be prudent that those visits should occur as seldom as possible—I mean, not too often." "I'm sure, sir, I'm very sorry if I have offended you, by coming," sobbed the poor hump-back; "and I would not for all the world injure Kate in the opinion of those friends who have been so kind as to provide for her." "Yon have done no harm—I am not angry with you," said the rector. "Only Mrs. Kenrick, my housekeeper, is very particular, and does not like the servants to have many visitors." "Then I won't come any more, sir," murmured Gibbet, whose heart was ready to break at this cruel announcement. "Yes—you may come and see your cousin every Sunday evening." "Oh! thank you, sir—thank you kindly, sir!" ejaculated the hump-back, in a tone of touching sincerity. "Every Sunday evening, then, let it be," continued the rector. "And now go round by the back way, and see her to-night, since you wish to do so."