However, he answered very mildly, “that the gentleman in question was, he believed, an excellent young man, which, so far as parochial matters were concerned, was of far more consequence than either high family or astonishing talents, and he hoped no one would find reason to complain that their Vicar had been hasty or injudicious in the selection of a pastor.” “No doubt that is very true, my dear sir,” blandly observed Mr. Barham; “virtue in a clergyman undoubtedly ranks above all; nevertheless, the advantages of a cultivated genius and high family are not to be despised; and although there may be many men of low birth highly estimable in a moral point of view, yet it is desirable, for the sake of the character and standing of the clerical body, that there should be gentlemen also in the profession. They give a tone――an elevated tone to the whole!” Mr. Duncan did not feel called on to reply; and after a pause, Mr. Barham added, “I could have wished that your curate had been a man of good connections, and a certain fortune and position in society. Is he married?” “Not yet, I understand,” replied the Vicar; “but he has promised to bring a wife as soon as his new house is ready. And I believe I may venture to answer for his connections and fortune being both good. He is a relative of Mr. Huyton of ‘the Ferns,’ who assured me he was a man of independent income.” “Mr. Huyton of ‘the Ferns!’――how strange! What may his name be?” “Paine――the Reverend Edward Paine.” “My dear sir, this is most extraordinary! he is the very man I was thinking of. I am delighted to hear it; but it is strange that it should be settled without my knowing it; neither Mr. Huyton nor Miss Maxwell has informed us. I wonder she did not let her cousins, my daughters, know. I wonder Charles Huyton has not called to inform me.” “Mr. Huyton went abroad last week,” observed Mr. Duncan, quietly. “Abroad!――are you certain? I knew nothing about that, and I should have expected, from the sort of terms we were on, that he would have told me. I can hardly believe it.” Mr. Duncan made no observation. “I shall call at ‘the Ferns’ to inquire as I go home. Perhaps you have been misinformed!” continued Mr. Barham. “I have reason to think not,” was the Vicar’s quiet observation, conveying, however, no conviction to the mind of his visitor, who only thought he knew nothing about it. “But about Edward Paine,” continued Mr. Barham; “how came it settled without my hearing, I wonder? Whose arrangement, may I ask, was it?”