The news of Mr Primrose’s arrival at Smatterton soon reached the rectory at Neverden. Had it not found its way there sooner, Mr Zephaniah Pringle would have been the first to communicate the intelligence on the following morning. The arrival having been announced, was of course expected. And there was much anxiety felt on the subject by all the parties concerned: of course more especially by Robert Darnley. For in consequence of his letter having been unanswered, he had fully determined, in spite of all domestic opposition and paternal expostulation, to make a journey to London for the purpose of explanation.

The elder Mr Darnley was mightily displeased to hear of the purpose which Mr Primrose had in view in coming to Smatterton. To the fastidious mind of the rector of Neverden it appeared very indelicate for Miss Primrose, after what had taken place, to throw herself in the way of Mr Robert Darnley: for in no other light could the rector of Neverden regard the meditated settlement of Mr Primrose at Smatterton.

It is a great pity that such a man as Mr Darnley, who had for the most part a good understanding and good feelings, should be so obstinate in his prejudices and so immoveable in his fancies. He had, for some reason or other, taken it into his head that Miss Primrose was proud and fantastical and unfeeling; and nothing could bring him to think favourably of her. He saw everything that she did or said through the deceptive medium of his erroneous apprehension of her character. It was a vain attempt to turn him from his humour. He had thoroughly believed at the first the calumnious report brought from London by Zephaniah Pringle. He had also believed that it was Penelope’s own wish, purpose, and desire, to adopt the musical profession; and though he had felt satisfied that the cessation of the correspondence between his son and the young lady had sprung altogether from the caprice of the latter, yet he considered that this meditated residence in Smatterton was, on the part of Penelope, with a desire of meeting again with Robert Darnley.

We have already acknowledged, nor do we wish to retract the acknowledgment, that the rector of Neverden was a very conscientious, attentive, and upright parish priest; we will give him credit for great zeal and activity in the discharge of his pastoral duties; but, notwithstanding all this, he was grievously deficient in one part of the Christian character, seeing that he had very little of that “charity which thinketh no evil.” We have seen other good people, besides the rector of Neverden, who, fancying themselves models of all that is right, and patterns for the rest of the world, have exercised a perverse ingenuity in discovering, and an unholy pleasure in displaying and condemning, their neighbours’ faults, real or imaginary. These people imagine that they cannot show a dislike of what is wrong without exhibiting a degree of malignity against such as transgress. Now the late Dr Greendale, though a man of great purity and integrity, had no such feeling as this. He was as candid as he was pure, and his gentleness was equal to his integrity. And the people of his parish liked him very much for his goodness and gentleness, and so his character had a very powerful influence upon them. But Mr Darnley was a different kind of man.

When Zephaniah Pringle therefore made his appearance at Neverden, and repeated the information which had already been conveyed to the rectory, as touching the arrival of Mr and Miss Primrose at Smatterton, the Rev. Mr Darnley expressed himself astonished at the indecorum and want of feeling which Miss Primrose manifested.

“Mr Pringle, I am quite surprized at this intelligence. Your relative at Smatterton has certainly a right to let the parsonage-house if he pleases; but I must say that I could wish, for the sake of public morals, that it had a more respectable tenant.”

Now as Penelope had appeared most truly respectable, and not a little fascinating in the eyes of Zephaniah the critic, and as he was not quite certain that the rumour which he had been the means of circulating was quite founded on fact, and as his doubts were stronger after he had seen Penelope and her father, he wished to unsay or to soften down what he had said. He therefore replied to the above exclamation:

“Why really, sir, I must say that I think Miss Primrose a respectable young lady, and it is probable that the report which I heard in town may not be perfectly correct. And indeed, as the lady is about to reside with her father, it is certainly not true to its full extent.”

Mr Darnley was not much in the habit of changing his opinion on matters of fact any more than on matters of speculation; and having once felt himself persuaded that Miss Primrose had acted improperly, it was no easy matter for Mr Pringle to bring him to change the view which he had entertained of the young lady’s character. Reasoning may be a very fine thing, and logic may be a very fine thing, and facts may be very stubborn things; but neither reasoning nor logic can make a man change his opinion, if he does not like to do so; and there are no facts in the world so stubborn as a conceited man’s own stubborn will. Mr Darnley took it for granted that whatever he took for granted must be most incontestably true; and Mr Darnley had taken it for granted that Miss Primrose had not demeaned herself aright, and nothing could convince him to the contrary. He adhered to the general thought, though beaten out of all its particulars. We would not recommend any one who has exalted notions of the power of reasoning and the force of evidence, to endeavour to convince another of any fact or speculation, till that other has shewn symptoms of an inclination to believe such fact or to adopt such theory.

It was all in vain that Zephaniah Pringle contended that Miss Primrose could not possibly be living dishonorably with Lord Spoonbill in London, while she was living quietly and reputably with her father at Smatterton. Mr Darnley had made up his mind, and nothing could shake his conclusions. Of some heads it is observed, that you can get nothing into them; of others it may with as much truth be said, that you can get nothing out of them. In this latter predicament was placed the head of the rector of Neverden.

When therefore Zephaniah found that no impression was to be made on Mr Darnley, he gave up the discussion, not a little regretting that he himself had, for the sake of gratifying a little vanity in talking about his own intimacy with Lord Spoonbill, done an injury which he could not undo. He began also to fear lest he should be detected and exposed; and under that apprehension he found himself uneasy at Smatterton, and wished that his visit was finished. This served him perfectly right. He had made public talk of what had been told to him in confidence, and as a secret, and he had circulated a calumnious report, careless whether it were true or false, and heedless what injury it might inflict upon innocence, or what misery it might occasion to those concerned.

Yet this prodigiously conceited puppy could and did in his critical lucubrations write himself down as being most zealously devoted to the service of religion, and he would make a mighty noise about those most execrable and abominable caitiffs, who presume to question one iota of the faith according to Queen Elizabeth.

It is hard, very hard, that religion should have to bear the reproach of the whims, vagaries, bigotry, and fanaticism of many, who are sincere in their profession and honest in their intemperate zeal; but it is doubly hard that a set of coxcomical greenhorns, who scarcely know the difference between the Bible and the Koran, who cannot tell why they believe, and who do not care what they believe, who never enter a church, and who never doubt because they never think, it is doubly hard that all their impertinent arrogance should be laid to the charge of a religion which has never influenced one action of their lives, or one thought of their hearts.

Finding that Mr Darnley the elder would not listen to or be influenced by any recantation of his calumny, the critic next sought for the young gentleman to whom he made known the fact of the arrival of Mr Primrose at Smatterton.

During the visit, which the loyal and religious Zephaniah Pringle paid at Smatterton, there had been comparatively little intercourse between him and Robert Darnley. This was owing to two causes: in the first place, Robert Darnley was in low spirits, and had not much intercourse with any one; and, in the second place, he had a contempt for puppyism, and Zephaniah had wit enough to see that he had.

In the present instance it was an object with Mr Pringle to correct any erroneous notion which he might have conveyed to the mind of Mr Robert Darnley; he therefore began the conversation.

“I think I must have been in an error when I informed you, as you may remember, that Miss Primrose was living with Lord Spoonbill.”

“Very likely you were, sir,” replied Mr Robert Darnley, somewhat abruptly; “but did you not insinuate to me that you had the information from Lord Spoonbill himself?”

This question was perplexing to the critic. He had insinuated as much, but he had not absolutely said so. Therefore he could not promptly reply in the negative, but was forced to make use of a little circumlocution, saying:

“Why not exactly so; I did not say that Lord Spoonbill himself told me in so many words: I merely—I said—-that is—a very intimate friend of Spoonbill said, that he thought—that is, he understood that—I believe he said that he had reason to suspect that some arrangement was likely to be made—”

Thereupon the explanation tapered off into an indistinct muttering that was sufficient, if for no other purpose, at least to show that Mr Zephaniah Pringle was a sneaking, shuffling, contemptible fellow. Robert Darnley was not in the habit of flying into a violent passion when he felt contempt for any meanness of character or conduct; if such had been his temperament, the present was an occasion, all circumstances being considered, strong enough to tempt him to knock a fool’s head and the wall together. He contented himself with coolly saying:

“It is a great pity, sir, that you should have circulated a report of that nature before you were quite certain that it was true.”

“I am very sorry indeed,” replied Zephaniah, “that I was led into such an error.”

“Well, well,” said Robert Darnley, “I dare say it will not be productive of any very serious consequence. Nobody who was at all acquainted with Miss Primrose could possibly believe the report.”

Zephaniah Pringle thought it but poor consolation to be told that he was not likely to be believed. He felt himself indeed so thoroughly humbled, that he was heartily glad to bring his conference with Robert Darnley to a close. The critic very soon said, “Good morning,” and Robert Darnley returned his “Good morning” in such a tone, and with such an air, as to make Zephaniah experience the sensation of being looked down upon.

It was a great refreshment and relief to the mind of the younger Darnley, to hear that Penelope and her father had arrived at Smatterton. He had never believed the calumnious tale of the loyal and religious critic, but he certainly did entertain some apprehension that assiduous attentions from a person of high rank and large estate might produce in time an effect even upon the mind of Penelope. As now Mr Primrose had come down expressly to take up his residence at Smatterton, and as this was not a time of year for such families as that of the Earl of Smatterton to take up their abode in the country, there was some ground to hope that, if the young nobleman had even made endeavours to gain the affection of Penelope, he had not succeeded.

It was the blessing of Robert Darnley’s mind that he had a disposition to look on the most favorable aspect of events, and it was not in his nature to yield himself up to a slight misunderstanding or misapprehension. Many miseries might be avoided if mankind possessed in general a little more of that kind of considerateness; but the evil is, that they too often take up with any idle tale, and are led by the merest and slightest apprehensions into quarrels, coldnesses, and loss of friendships: inasmuch, that a quarrel is courteously called a misunderstanding, much to the reproach indeed of the misunderstanders; for it is thereby intimated that the parties quarrel merely for the want of taking the pains to understand one another, or sometimes perhaps to understand themselves.

Under the circumstances which belong to this narration, it would have been very possible for two simpletons to have made themselves completely wretched. And as some people are very glad to be miserable for the sake of the pathos and sentimentality thereof, we will tell these people, though perhaps they could find it out without our assistance, how they might make themselves truly wretched under similar circumstances.

To gain this desirable end, the gentleman and the lady should have despaired of meeting each other again, and should have carefully avoided everything that might lead to an explanation, and they should, while very much in love with each other, have made all possible haste to give their hands to another. They ought to have married, as it were, out of spite, and then after marriage they ought to have met by accident, and to have explained; and then they ought to have compared notes, and to have made it out that one had the worst husband, and the other the worst wife, in the world; and then they would have had nothing more to do than to have made a very pretty tragical conclusion of the business, either giving employment to, what the newspapers call, the gentlemen of the long robe, or, more seriously still, causing the calling together of a coroner’s jury.

It was well for Robert Darnley that such was not his disposition. He thought it much the best to ascertain, if he possibly could, what were Penelope’s real sentiments; and for that purpose he had already spoken to her father, and, as no result had come from speaking, he had written; and if his letter had not been soon answered, or if Mr Primrose had not arrived at Smatterton, he would have visited the party in London.