CHAPTER III.

THUS did these two uncongenial spirits discover their mutual antipathy ere a day was over. And the intelligent reader will not need to be told that a week was quite long enough to develop incipient hostility into acknowledged war.

During that first week Mrs. Primrose had a sort of social ovation. Her surprising air of distinction, her still more surprising fashion of dressing herself, and the fact that Mr. Mackenzie, of Darriwell, called upon her on Monday, and was reported to be connected with her in some way, combined to lift her entirely out of the position that had been tacitly assigned to her and to give her an instant popularity. "Everybody" called. The leading families tripped each other up in the lobby of the Black Swan in their haste to be the first, or as near the first as possible, to offer her countenance and attention; and whereas the gentlemen, according to immemorial custom, had been represented by their cards at the parsonage on a

recent similar occasion, they now showed an almost unanimous disposition to sacrifice themselves and accompany their womenkind in person. Mr. Hardcastle, the police magistrate, in tall hat and blue frock-coat, escorted his wife and daughters; and Dr. Lloyd Mrs. Lloyd; and Dr. Debenham his sister, Miss Debenham. The more important shopkeepers were not behindhand; and the mayor himself, an extensive miller and farmer, owning a fine house on the outskirts of the town-a mayor who set the highest value upon his civic rank and personal and pecuniary worth-did not disdain to honour the curate's wife in a similar manner. Mr. Arnold, the married lawyer, did not go with Mrs. Arnold, but he followed her; and the bank managers and the postmaster paid their respects also in course of time. None of them let the week run out, and most of them went on Tuesday and Wednesday, during several hours of which days Nancy's little sitting-room was crowded to its utmost capacity. She appeared delighted to see them all, one just as much as another. She was neither shy and formal, nor bold and presuming, but smiled and chatted with a bright and cheerful self-possession and air of enjoyment that captivated everybody-and especially her male guests. She was young and pretty, she was beautifully

dressed, she was accustomed to society and to being made much of therein; well might she be charming! It was no credit to her. But of course she got the credit of it-just as a plain woman, who has never known admiration and success, gets the blame of being awkward and dull, though she cannot help it. "A sweet, amiable, unaffected little thing, and a perfect lady, every inch of her,” said the husbands and fathers, when speaking of Mrs. Primrose afterwards in the bosom of their families; and the wives and daughters, temperately, and with a few slight qualifications, agreed that she was so.

And she was treated accordingly. Invitations flowed in, offers of assistance, gifts of fruit and flowers; all the hospitality for which the country is famous was lavished upon her, and upon her husband for her sake. Mr. Arnold took her for a drive on Wednesday evening, to show her the country; Dr. Lloyd took her for another on Thursday, for the same purpose; Mr. Hardcastle fetched her on Friday to play tennis with his daughters and a few select gentlemen of the town; and a picnic to the waterfall, which was the lion of the district, was organised for Saturday in her honour. By the time that Sunday came round again, she knew, and was known by, every person of conse

quence in Wooroona and the neighbourhood, and was the heroine and favourite of the hour.

All this was gall and wormwood to Mrs. Brown. Only a few weeks back she had been the popular idol, for whom nobody could do enough; only the other day her girls had been the admired ones, whose praises were on every man's tongue and in every man's eye! And now to have this impudent little minx, this mere curate's wife, thrusting herself forward and arrogating all the attention to herself-it was too revolting! Still, the injured woman tried to bear it-knowing how much it was to her interest to do so-without betraying what she suffered more openly than she could help; and she was tolerably successful for a little while. Mrs. Primrose received her callers and made her new acquaintances without that support and assistance which she (Mrs. Brown) had been prepared to render, and pursued a consistent course of disrespectful independence calculated to demoralise the parish and to bring the office of archdeacon into contempt; and Mrs. Brown said nothing. At least, she said nothing to the archoffender, and not much to the meek accomplice; it will be understood that she spoke her mind to her spouse in those hours when he had no option but to listen to her, and that freely. If she had not

thus relieved herself, she would have given way somewhere in a wrong place very early in the week. But she bore up until Saturday. She had her dignity to think of, and likewise her dear children. Since Mrs. Primrose might be useful to Grace, the mother would endure her own wrongs uncomplainingly. So she determined and en

deavoured.

But the flesh was weak, and she could

not do it. She was not accustomed to self-abnegation, and was too old to begin the practice of it now. On Saturday she broke out.

It was early in the day. Mr. Primrose went to the parsonage to consult the archdeacon upon Sunday business, and asked his wife to go with him. "The ladies are always inquiring after you," he said, "and I'm afraid they feel a little neglected."

"I'm sure I don't see why they should," replied Nancy. "They have only been to see me once, and I have been there three times, at least."

But she put on her hat and gloves, and accompanied him readily. She was in high spirits, anticipating the delights of the coming picnic, for which she had prepared; and her fair and sunny face, and her little figure, trimly belted into the neatest and freshest of cotton frocks, looked bonnier than

ever.