to single blessedness; affirming it impossible that the pale, retiring bookworm should ever summon courage to seek a wife, or be able to obtain one if he did, and equally impossible that the plain-looking, plain-dealing, unattractive, unconciliating Miss Millward should ever find a husband.
They still continued to live at the vicarage, the lady dividing her time between her father, her husband, and their poor parishioners,—and subsequently, her rising family; and now that the Reverend Michael Millward has been gathered to his fathers, full of years and honours, the Reverend Edward Wilson has succeeded him to the vicarage of Lindenhope, greatly to the satisfaction of its inhabitants, who had so long tried and fully proved his merits, and those of his excellent and well-loved partner.
If you are interested in the after fate of that lady's sister, I can only tell you—what perhaps you have heard from another quarter—that
