'Papa，'Charlotte said. 'Mr Nicholls and I have something to say to you.I did not like that. 'Mr Nicholls and I…'It did not sound good to me.'I am busy，'I said. 'I have a lot of work. Charlotte smiled.'That's because you don't have a good curate，papa.When Mr Nicholls was here，your life was easy.'Perhaps，'I said. 'But he was going to Australia， I thought.Why haven't you gone，sir？ Mr Nicholls spoke for the first time.He looked very tall and proud，I thought.'There are two reasons，sir，'he said.'First，because I have decided not to go to Australia.And also…' He stopped，and looked down at Charlotte.She smiled up at him，and I felt my blood run cold.'…and also，because your daughter Charlotte and I would like to be married.We have come to ask you to agree.I don't remember what I said next.I think there were a lot of unkind words between us，and some tears.But in the end I agreed.I agreed because Charlotte wanted it，not because of Arthur Nicholls.In June that year they were married in my church.I did not go-I could not give Charlotte away to that man.But he came back here to be my curate， and he and Charlotte lived in this house with me.
