Chapter X – The Church follows Agnes Grey’s quiet observations during and after a Sunday service, bringing to light how personal values shape how one interprets others. It begins with the arrival of a new curate, whose presence quickly becomes the subject of speculation among the Murray sisters. During their walk home, Rosalie inquires about Agnes’s opinion of him, likely hoping to validate her own impressions. Agnes, choosing her words with care, admits that her focus during the service had been on his earnest delivery, not his appearance. She appreciated how he read the lessons with clarity and spoke his prayers with genuine devotion. The sincerity in his voice stood in contrast to the more theatrical and self-serving tone of Mr. Hatfield, whose presence often seemed more about performance than purpose.

Agnes’s subtle praise of the new curate highlights her appreciation for quiet integrity over superficial charm. Her admiration doesn’t stem from emotion but from a respect for honest effort. In a world filled with social pretenses, it is this kind of authenticity she longs to see. Rosalie and Matilda, however, focus on the curate’s lack of fashion and social flair. They describe him as awkward, almost laughably so, dismissing his seriousness as dull. Agnes listens, disappointed but not surprised. Their criteria for value are rooted in how someone appears, not who they are. This difference in perspective reinforces Agnes’s feeling of being set apart, even when she shares space with the sisters every day.

Later, Agnes reflects privately on how Mr. Hatfield has always seemed more invested in flattery and social advancement than in genuine pastoral care. His sermons, full of rhetorical flourishes, often leave her unmoved, as if their purpose were more for his image than for spiritual nourishment. She contrasts this with the curate’s humble tone, which, though lacking flair, stirred a more sincere response. It becomes clear to her that there’s a difference between being admired and being respected. Mr. Hatfield enjoys the former; the curate, she believes, deserves the latter. For Agnes, the difference matters deeply. She is drawn not to those who entertain but to those who quietly live their principles.

The church setting, for Agnes, holds meaning beyond its social function. It is a place where intention and belief should matter more than spectacle. Yet, in the world of the Murrays, it often becomes another stage for performance—where attendees are judged for their clothing, posture, or companionship. Rosalie’s excitement over the curate is less about his moral strength and more about the novelty he brings to their routine. Her teasing and giggles over his supposed awkwardness reveal how far removed she is from the spiritual purpose of worship. Agnes sees it and says little, knowing that argument would change nothing. Her values aren’t shared, but they remain firm within her.

The conversation shifts back to light chatter as they return home, the sisters speculating whether the curate is rich, connected, or worthy of further pursuit. Their voices bounce between curiosity and vanity, transforming a man of faith into a topic of romantic entertainment. Agnes watches this unfold with quiet resolve. She understands that to them, church is more a social gathering than a sacred space. That difference in mindset underscores the broader chasm between their values and hers. While she does not condemn their youthfulness, she recognizes the emptiness in such pursuits when detached from deeper understanding.

In the quiet of her own room, Agnes considers how difficult it is to hold to one’s ideals when surrounded by constant distractions and hollow priorities. Still, she believes in the importance of staying anchored to something sincere. The new curate’s modest demeanor offered a glimpse of that—of someone doing good not for praise, but because it is right. That, to Agnes, is the kind of influence a church figure should have. The moment lingers with her, not because of how it looked, but because of how it made her feel—briefly, spiritually understood. Through this lens, the chapter becomes a quiet assertion of what truly matters: substance over style, meaning over appearance, and faith grounded in action rather than applause.