The week that followed Gwynne Ellis's induction to his new living had

been too full of business to allow him to call upon his near

neighbours, the most influential member of his congregation, Mrs.

Besborough Power of Carne Hall; but soon afterwards he began to look

around him and make acquaintance with his parishioners.

The Vicarage was large and his ideas of furnishing were limited, so

that after arranging and rearranging every room in the house he still

looked at them with a dissatisfied air.

"I don't know how it is, father; in spite of all this handsome

furniture you have given me, there seems something wanting, doesn't

there?"

"Don't see it," said the old man, "unless it is that wonderful piece of

furniture--a wife--you want."

"Perhaps, but that will have to wait," and as he drew his handkerchief

over the shining face of the sideboard he thought within himself,

"Where shall I find one? There are not two Valmai's in the world, and

I declare she has spoiled me for every other woman. By the by, I must

call on Mrs. Besborough Power, and see if I can't bring her visitor

into a better frame of mind."

The next day saw him entering the pleasant drawing-room at Carne Hall,

where Mrs. Power was as usual dozing in her arm-chair, with a piece of

wool-work in her hand, upon which she sometimes worked a few stitches

while she purred a little remark to Gwladys, who sat nearer the window,

making believe to work also. She had already remarked, "Auntie, this

is the new Vicar, I am sure," when the door opened and Gwynne Ellis

entered.

Having shaken hands with Mrs. Power, he turned to Gwladys with a smile

of greeting.

"Valmai!" he said, "I beg pardon--Mrs.--"

"No," said Gwladys, drawing herself up, "I am Gwladys Powell, Valmai's

sister--but do you know her?"

"Know her? well!" said Gwynne Ellis; "but I have never seen such an

extraordinary likeness."

"Yes," said Mrs. Power, "they are twins, and apart, it is almost

impossible to distinguish one from the other."

"Where is she?" he asked, "is she here?"

"No," answered Gwladys, "she has been here, but is now staying with

some friends of ours in Radnorshire."

"Ah! I see, I am sorry; I should like to have seen her, but I can

scarce say I miss her while you are present, for I certainly see no

difference between you."

Gwladys was more talkative than usual. She and Mrs. Power were

pleasantly impressed, and congratulated themselves upon having gained

an agreeable addition to their very limited social circle in the person

of their new Vicar.

"This is a charming neighbourhood. I saw by a little glint of

sunshine, as I came up the drive, that you have a pond or lake in that

firwood; and that is always tempting to an artist. Do you draw, Miss

Powell?"




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