Chapter 16

"I am sorry, aunt, Mr. Denbigh is not rich," said Emily to Mrs, Wilson,
after they had retired in the evening, almost unconscious of what she
uttered. The latter looked at her niece in surprise, at a remark so
abrupt, and one so very different from the ordinary train of Emily's
reflections, as she required an explanation. Emily, slightly coloring at
the channel her thoughts had insensibly strayed into, gave her aunt an
account of their adventure in the course of the morning's drive, and
touched lightly on the difference in the amount of the alms of her brother
and those of Mr. Denbigh.

"The bestowal of money is not always an act of charity," observed Mrs.
Wilson, gravely, and the subject was dropped: though neither ceased to
dwell on it in her thoughts, until sleep closed the eyes of both.

The following day Mrs. Wilson invited Grace and Emily to accompany her in
a walk; the gentlemen having preceded them in pursuit of their different
avocations. Francis had his regular visits of spiritual consolation; John
had gone to the hall for his pointers and fowling-piece, the season for
woodcock having arrived; and Denbigh had proceeded no one knew whither. On
gaining the high-road, Mrs. Wilson desired her companions to lead the way
to the cottage where the family of the mendicant gardener had been lodged,
and thither they soon arrived. On knocking at the door, they were
immediately admitted to an outer room; in which they found the wife of the
laborer who inhabited the building, engaged in her customary morning
employments. They explained the motives of the visit, and were told that
the family they sought were in an adjoining room, but she rather thought
at that moment engaged with a clergyman who had called a quarter of an
hour before. "I expect, my lady, it's the new rector, who everybody says
is so good to the poor and needy; but I have not found time yet to go to
church to hear his reverence preach, ma'am," courtseying and handing the
fresh dusted chairs to her unexpected visitors. The ladies seated
themselves, too delicate to interrupt Francis in his sacred duties, and
were silently waiting his appearance, when a voice was distinctly heard
through the thin partition, the first note of which undeceived them as to
the character of the gardener's visitor.

"It appears then, Davis, by your own confession," said Denbigh, mildly,
but in a tone of reproof, "that your frequent acts of intemperance have at
least given ground for the steward's procuring your discharge if it has
not justified him in doing that which his duty to your common employer
required."

"It is hard, sir," replied the man sullenly, "to be thrown on the world
with a family like