[CHAPTER I. THE VILLAGE OF WREXHILL.—THE MOWBRAY FAMILY.—A BIRTHDAY.]
[CHAPTER II. THE MORNING AFTER THE BIRTHDAY.]
[CHAPTER III. THE VICAR OF WREXHILL.]
[CHAPTER IV. THE WILL.]
[CHAPTER V. THE ARISTOCRACY OF WREXHILL.]
[CHAPTER VI. THE PRINCIPAL PERSON IN THE VILLAGE.—THE VICAR'S FAMILY.]
[CHAPTER VII. THE FIRST IMPRESSIONS MADE BY MR. CARTWRIGHT.—LETTER FROM LADY HARRINGTON.]
[CHAPTER VIII. MRS. RICHARDS AND HER DAUGHTERS.—THE TEA-PARTY.]
[CHAPTER IX. HELEN AND ROSALIND CALL UPON SIR GILBERT HARRINGTON]
[CHAPTER X. MRS. MOWBRAY CONSULTS MR. CARTWRIGHT UPON THE SUBJECT OF HER LATE HUSBAND'S WILL.]
[CHAPTER XI. HELEN'S MISERY AT HER MOTHER'S DISPLEASURE.—SIR G. HARRINGTON'S LETTER ON THE SUBJECT OF THE WILL.]
[CHAPTER XII. MR. CARTWRIGHT'S LETTER TO HIS COUSIN.—COLONEL HARRINGTON.]
[CHAPTER XIII. MRS. MOWBRAY'S DEPARTURE FOR TOWN.—AN EXTEMPORARY PRAYER.]
[CHAPTER XIV. AN INTERVIEW.—THE LIME TREE.—ROSALIND'S LETTER TO MR. MOWBRAY.]
[CHAPTER XV. ROSALIND'S CONVERSATION WITH MISS CARTWRIGHT.—MRS. SIMPSON AND MISS RICHARDS MEET THE VICAR AT THE PARK.—THE HYMN.—THE WALK HOME.]
[VOLUME THE SECOND.]
[CHAPTER I. CHARLES MOWBRAY'S ARRIVAL AT THE PARK.]
[CHAPTER II. CHARLES'S AMUSEMENT AT HIS SISTER'S APPEARANCE.—HE DISCUSSES HER CASE WITH ROSALIND.]
[CHAPTER III. CHARLES WALKS OVER TO OAKLEY.—THE VICAR IMPROVES IN HIS OPINION.]
[CHAPTER IV. MR. STEPHEN CORBOLD.]
[CHAPTER V. MR. STEPHEN CORBOLD RETURNS WITH MRS. MOWBRAY AND HELEN TO WREXHILL.]
[CHAPTER VI. THE RETURN.]
[CHAPTER VII. THE VICAR AND HIS COUSIN.]
[CHAPTER VIII. CHARLES'S SORROW.—MRS. SIMPSON IN HER NEW CHARACTER.—THE VICAR'S PROCEEDINGS DISCUSSED.]
[CHAPTER IX. DISCUSSION ON TRUTH.—MR. CORBOLD INSTALLED.]
[CHAPTER X. FANNY'S RELIGION.—A VISIT TO OAKLEY.]
[CHAPTER XI. CHARLES'S CONFERENCE WITH MRS. MOWBRAY.]
[CHAPTER XII. THE VICAR'S PROGRESS, AND HIS COUNSEL TO FANNY AS TO THE BEST MEANS OF ASSISTING THE POOR.]
[CHAPTER XIII. MRS. SIMPSON'S CHARITABLE VISIT.—CHARLES'S TROUBLES CONTINUE.]
[CHAPTER XIV. THE ENTRY.]
[CHAPTER XV. WALK TO OAKLEY—DOMESTIC ARRANGEMENTS—THE VILLAGE INN.]
[VOLUME THE THIRD.]
[CHAPTER I. MR. AND MRS. CARTWRIGHT'S LETTER.]
[CHAPTER II. THE WIDOW SIMPSON'S DISAPPOINTMENT.]
[CHAPTER III. CHARLES'S INTERVIEW WITH HIS STEPFATHER.—HIS SUDDEN DEPARTURE FROM WREXHILL.]
[CHAPTER IV. THE VICAR'S PROSPERITY.—HE SETS ABOUT MAKING SOME IMPORTANT REFORMS IN THE VILLAGE.]
[CHAPTER V. THE VICAR AT HOME.]
[CHAPTER VI. A SECOND VISIT TO THE LIME-TREE.]
[CHAPTER VII. THE WILL.]
[CHAPTER VIII. THE LETTER-BAG.]
[CHAPTER IX. THE WILL EXECUTED.]
[CHAPTER X. THE SERIOUS FANCY FAIR.]
[CHAPTER XI. THE "ELOPEMENT."]
[CHAPTER XII. MR. CORBOLD'S ADVENTURES.]
[CHAPTER XIII. A CHANGE COMES O'ER THE SPIRIT OF HER DREAM.]
[CHAPTER XIV. IN WHICH SUNDRY VISITS ARE MADE.]
[CHAPTER XV. MRS. CARTWRIGHT'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT.]
THE VICAR OF WREXHILL.
"On the turf before the bench and with their backs towards the spot where Rosalind and Henrietta stood, knelt the Vicar and Fanny."
CHAPTER I.
THE VILLAGE OF WREXHILL.—THE MOWBRAY FAMILY.—A BIRTHDAY.
The beauties of an English village have been so often dwelt upon, so often described, that I dare not linger long upon the sketch of Wrexhill, which must of necessity precede my introduction of its vicar. And yet not even England can show many points of greater beauty than this oak-sheltered spot can display. Its peculiar style of scenery, half garden, half forest in aspect, is familiar to all who are acquainted with the New Forest, although it has features entirely its own. One of these is an overshot mill, the sparkling fall of which is accurately and most nobly overarched by a pair of oaks which have long been the glory of the parish. Another is the grey and mellow beauty of its antique church, itself unencumbered by ivy, while the wall and old stone gateway of the churchyard look like a line and knot of sober green, enclosing it with such a rich and unbroken luxuriance of foliage "never sear," as seems to show that it is held sacred, and that no hand profane ever ventured to rob its venerable mass of a leaf or a berry. Close beside the church, and elevated by a very gentle ascent, stands the pretty Vicarage, as if placed expressly to keep watch and ward over the safety and repose of its sacred neighbour. The only breach in the ivy-bound fence of the churchyard, is the little wicket gate that opens from the Vicarage garden; but even this is arched over by the same immortal and unfading green,—a fitting emblem of that eternity, the hope of which emanates from the shrine it encircles. At this particular spot, indeed, the growth of the plant is so vigorous, that it is controlled with difficulty, and has not obeyed the hand which led it over the rustic arch without dropping a straggling wreath or two, which if a vicar of the nineteenth century could wear a wig, might leave him in the state coveted for Absalom by his father. The late Vicar of Wrexhill, however,—I speak of him who died a few weeks before my story begins,—would never permit these graceful pendants to be shorn, declaring that the attitude they enforced on entering the churchyard was exactly such as befitted a Christian when passing the threshold of the court of God.