Chapter 17

That decision of Fan's to remain at home had really come with a little
surprise on Mrs. Churton; for although it was what she had hoped, the
hope had been a faint one, and the pleasure it gave her was therefore all
the greater. With this feeling another not altogether to her credit was
mingled--a certain satisfaction at finding her company preferred to that
of her daughter. For it could not be supposed that the girl experienced
just then any eager desire after religious knowledge; she had just
reported Miss Starbrow's scoffing words with such a curious simplicity,
as if she looked on religion merely as a branch of learning, like
mineralogy or astronomy, which was scarcely necessary to her, and might
therefore very well be dispensed with. No, it was purely a matter of
personal preference; and Mrs. Churton, albeit loving and thinking well of
herself, as most people do, could not help finding it a little strange:
for her daughter, notwithstanding that her mind was darkened by that evil
spirit of unbelief, was outwardly a beautiful, engaging person, ready and
eloquent of speech, and seemed in every way one who would easily win the
unsuspecting regard of a simple-minded affectionate girl like Fan. It was
strange and--_providential_. Yes, that explained the whole mystery,
and so fully satisfied her religious mind that she was instantly relieved
from the task of groping after any other cause.

While these thoughts were passing through her mind they were standing
together before the open window, following Miss Churton's form with their
eyes, as she went away in the direction of Eyethorne woods. But Fan had a
very different feeling; she recalled that interview of the last evening
in the orchard, the clear, tender eyes looking invitingly into hers, the
touch of a warm caressing hand, the words in which her own strange
feelings experienced for the first time had been so aptly described to
her; and the thought gave her a dull pain--a vague sense of some great
blessing missed, of something which had promised to make her unspeakably
happy passing from her life.

It was some slight compensation that the scene of that first lesson in
religious doctrine she had expressed herself willing to receive was in
the garden, where they were soon comfortably seated under an acacia-tree;
and that is a tree which does not shut out the heavenly gladness, like
beech and elm and lime, but rather tempers the sunshine with its loose
airy foliage, making a half-brightness that is pleasanter than shade.

By means of much gentle questioning, herself often suggesting the
answers, Mrs. Churton gradually drew from the girl an account of all she
knew and thought about sacred subjects. She was shocked and grieved to
discover that this young lady