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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Rector + +Author: Mrs. (Margaret) Oliphant + +Release Date: September 2, 2009 [EBook #29891] +[Last updated: March 11, 2013] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RECTOR *** + + + + +Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<p> </p> + +<h2><i>Chronicles of Carlingford</i></h2> + +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> + +<h1>THE RECTOR</h1> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h5>BY</h5> + +<p> </p> +<h2>MRS OLIPHANT</h2> + +<p> </p> + +<h6>NEW EDITION</h6> +<p> </p> +<h4>WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS</h4> +<h5>EDINBURGH AND LONDON</h5> + +<p> </p> + +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="1" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align="left" valign="top"><a href="#RECTOR">THE RECTOR</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p> </p> + +<hr class="narrow" /> +<p> </p> + +<h3><i>Chronicles of Carlingford</i></h3> + +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<h2><a name="RECTOR" id="RECTOR">THE RECTOR</a></h2> +<p> </p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h3> + +<p>It is natural to suppose that the arrival of the new Rector +was a rather exciting event for Carlingford. It is a considerable +town, it is true, nowadays, but then there are no +alien activities to disturb the place—no manufactures, and +not much trade. And there is a very respectable amount +of very good society at Carlingford. To begin with, it is +a pretty place—mild, sheltered, not far from town; and +naturally its very reputation for good society increases the +amount of that much-prized article. The advantages of the +town in this respect have already put five per cent upon +the house-rents; but this, of course, only refers to the <i>real</i> +town, where you can go through an entire street of high +garden-walls, with houses inside full of the retired exclusive +comforts, the dainty economical refinement peculiar to such +places; and where the good people consider their own +society as a warrant of gentility less splendid, but not less +assured, than the favour of Majesty itself. Naturally there +are no Dissenters in Carlingford—that is to say, none above +the rank of a greengrocer or milkman; and in bosoms +devoted to the Church it may be well imagined that the +advent of the new Rector was an event full of importance, +and even of excitement.</p> + +<p>He was highly spoken of, everybody knew; but nobody +knew who had spoken highly of him, nor had been able +to find out, even by inference, what were his views. The +Church had been Low during the last Rector's reign—profoundly +Low—lost in the deepest abysses of Evangelicalism. +A determined inclination to preach to everybody had seized +upon that good man's brain; he had half emptied Salem +Chapel, there could be no doubt; but, on the other hand, +he had more than half filled the Chapel of St Roque, half a +mile out of Carlingford, where the perpetual curate, young, +handsome, and fervid, was on the very topmost pinnacle of +Anglicanism. St Roque's was not more than a pleasant +walk from the best quarter of Carlingford, on the north +side of the town, thank heaven! which one could get at +without the dread passage of that new horrid suburb, to +which young Mr Rider, the young doctor, was devoting +himself. But the Evangelical rector was dead, and his +reign was over, and nobody could predict what the character +of the new administration was to be. The obscurity +in which the new Rector had buried his views was the +most extraordinary thing about him. He had taken high +honours at college, and was "highly spoken of;" but +whether he was High, or Low, or Broad, muscular or sentimental, +sermonising or decorative, nobody in the world +seemed able to tell.</p> + +<p>"Fancy if he were just to be a Mr Bury over again! +Fancy him going to the canal, and having sermons to the +bargemen, and attending to all sorts of people except to +us, whom it is his duty to attend to!" cried one of this +much-canvassed clergyman's curious parishioners. "Indeed +I do believe he must be one of these people. If he were +in society at all, somebody would be sure to know."</p> + +<p>"Lucy dear, Mr Bury christened you," said another not +less curious but more tolerant inquirer.</p> + +<p>"Then he did you the greatest of all services," cried +the third member of the little group which discussed the +new Rector under Mr Wodehouse's blossomed apple-trees. +"He conferred such a benefit upon you that he deserves +all reverence at your hand. Wonderful idea! a man confers +this greatest of Christian blessings on multitudes, and +does not himself appreciate the boon he conveys!"</p> + +<p>"Well, for that matter, Mr Wentworth, you know<span class="norewrap">——</span>" +said the elder lady; but she got no farther. Though she +was verging upon forty, leisurely, pious, and unmarried, +that good Miss Wodehouse was not polemical. She had +"her own opinions," but few people knew much about +them. She was seated on a green garden-bench which +surrounded the great May-tree in that large, warm, well-furnished +garden. The high brick walls, all clothed with +fruit-trees, shut in an enclosure of which not a morsel +except this velvet grass, with its nests of daisies, was not +under the highest and most careful cultivation. It was +such a scene as is only to be found in an old country +town; the walls jealous of intrusion, yet thrusting tall +plumes of lilac and stray branches of apple-blossom, like +friendly salutations to the world without; within, the +blossoms drooping over the light bright head of Lucy +Wodehouse underneath the apple-trees, and impertinently +flecking the Rev. Frank Wentworth's Anglican coat. +These two last were young people, with that indefinable +harmony in their looks which prompts the suggestion of +"a handsome couple" to the bystander. It had not even +occurred to them to be in love with each other, so far as +anybody knew, yet few were the undiscerning persons who +saw them together without instinctively placing the young +curate of St Roque's in permanence by Lucy's side. She +was twenty, pretty, blue-eyed, and full of dimples, with a +broad Leghorn hat thrown carelessly on her head, untied, +with broad strings of blue ribbon falling among her fair +curls—a blue which was "repeated," according to painter +jargon, in ribbons at her throat and waist. She had great +gardening gloves on, and a basket and huge pair of scissors +on the grass at her feet, which grass, besides, was strewed +with a profusion of all the sweetest spring blossoms—the +sweet narcissus, most exquisite of flowers, lilies of the +valley, white and blue hyacinths, golden ranunculus globes—worlds +of sober, deep-breathing wallflower. If Lucy had +been doing what her kind elder sister called her "duty," +she would have been at this moment arranging her flowers +in the drawing-room; but the times were rare when Lucy +did her duty according to Miss Wodehouse's estimate; so +instead of arranging those clusters of narcissus, she clubbed +them together in her hands into a fragrant dazzling sheaf, +and discussed the new Rector—not unaware, perhaps, in +her secret heart, that the sweet morning, the sunshine and +flowers, and exhilarating air, were somehow secretly enhanced +by the presence of that black Anglican figure +under the apple-trees.</p> + +<p>"But I suppose," said Lucy, with a sigh, "we must wait +till we see him; and if I must be very respectful of Mr +Bury because he christened me, I am heartily glad the new +Rector has no claim upon my reverence. I have been +christened, I have been confirmed<span class="norewrap">——</span>"</p> + +<p>"But, Lucy, my dear, the chances are he will marry you," +said Miss Wodehouse, calmly; "indeed, there can be no +doubt that it is only natural he should, for he <i>is</i> the Rector, +you know; and though we go so often to St Roque's, Mr +Wentworth will excuse me saying that he is a very young +man."</p> + +<p>Miss Wodehouse was knitting; she did not see the sudden +look of dismay and amazement which the curate of St +Roque's darted down upon her, nor the violent sympathetic +blush which blazed over both the young faces. How shocking +that elderly quiet people should have such a faculty for +suggestions! You may be sure Lucy Wodehouse and young +Wentworth, had it not been "put into their heads" in such +an absurd fashion, would never, all their virtuous lives, have +dreamt of anything but friendship. Deep silence ensued +after this simple but startling speech. Miss Wodehouse +knitted on, and took no notice; Lucy began to gather up +the flowers into the basket, unable for her life to think of +anything to say. For his part, Mr Wentworth gravely picked +the apple-blossoms off his coat, and counted them in his hand. +That sweet summer snow kept dropping, dropping, falling +here and there as the wind carried it, and with a special +attraction to Lucy and her blue ribbons; while behind, Miss +Wodehouse sat calmly on the green bench, under the May-tree +just beginning to bloom, without lifting her eyes from +her knitting. Not far off, the bright English house, all +beaming with open doors and windows, shone in the sunshine. +With the white May peeping out among the green +overhead, and the sweet narcissus in a great dazzling sheaf +upon the grass, making all the air fragrant around them, can +anybody fancy a sweeter domestic out-of-door scene? or else +it seemed so to the perpetual curate of St Roque's.</p> + +<p>Ah me! and if he was to be perpetual curate, and none of +his great friends thought upon him, or had preferment to +bestow, how do you suppose he could ever, ever marry Lucy +Wodehouse, if they were to wait a hundred years?</p> + +<p>Just then the garden-gate—the green gate in the wall—opened +to the creaking murmur of Mr Wodehouse's own key. +Mr Wodehouse was a man who creaked universally. His +boots were a heavy infliction upon the good-humour of his +household; and like every other invariable quality of dress, +the peculiarity became identified with him in every particular +of his life. Everything belonging to him moved with a certain +jar, except, indeed, his household, which went on noiseless +wheels, thanks to Lucy and love. As he came along +the garden path, the gravel started all round his unmusical +foot. Miss Wodehouse alone turned round to hail her father's +approach, but both the young people looked up at her instinctively, +and saw her little start, the falling of her knitting-needles, +the little flutter of colour which surprise brought to +her maidenly, middle-aged cheek. How they both divined +it I cannot tell, but it certainly was no surprise to either of +them when a tall embarrassed figure, following the portly one +of Mr Wodehouse, stepped suddenly from the noisy gravel +to the quiet grass, and stood gravely awkward behind the +father of the house.</p> + +<p>"My dear children, here's the Rector—delighted to see +him! we're all delighted to see him!" cried Mr Wodehouse. +"This is my little girl Lucy, and this is my eldest daughter. +They're both as good as curates, though I say it, you know, as +shouldn't. I suppose you've got something tidy for lunch, +Lucy, eh? To be sure you ought to know—how can I tell? +She might have had only cold mutton, for anything I knew—and +that won't do, you know, after college fare. Hollo, +Wentworth! I beg your pardon—who thought of seeing you +here? I thought you had morning service, and all that sort +of thing. Delighted to make you known to the Rector so +soon. Mr Proctor—Mr Wentworth of St Roque's."</p> + +<p>The Rector bowed. He had no time to say anything, fortunately +for him; but a vague sort of colour fluttered over +his face. It was his first living; and cloistered in All-Souls +for fifteen years of his life, how is a man to know all at once +how to accost his parishioners? especially when these curious +unknown specimens of natural life happen to be female +creatures, doubtless accustomed to compliment and civility. +If ever any one was thankful to hear the sound of another +man's voice, that person was the new Rector of Carlingford, +standing in the bewildering garden-scene into which the +green door had so suddenly admitted him, all but treading +on the dazzling bundle of narcissus, and turning with embarrassed +politeness from the perpetual curate, whose salutation +was less cordial than it might have been, to those indefinite +flutters of blue ribbon from which Mr Proctor's tall figure +divided the ungracious young man.</p> + +<p>"But come along to lunch. Bless me! don't let us be too +ceremonious," cried Mr Wodehouse. "Take Lucy, my dear +sir—take Lucy. Though she has her garden-gloves on, she's +manager indoors for all that. Molly here is the one we +coddle up and take care of. Put down your knitting, child, +and don't make an old woman of yourself. To be sure, it's +your own concern—you should know best; but that's my +opinion. Why, Wentworth, where are you off to? 'Tisn't a +fast, surely—is it, Mary?—nothing of the sort; it's Thursday—<i>Thursday</i>, +do you hear? and the Rector newly arrived. +Come along."</p> + +<p>"I am much obliged, but I have an appointment," began +the curate, with restraint.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you keep it, then, before <i>we</i> came in," cried +Mr Wodehouse, "chatting with a couple of girls like Lucy +and Mary? Come along, come along—an appointment with +some old woman or other, who wants to screw flannels and +things out of you—well, I suppose so! I don't know +anything else you could have to say to them. Come +along."</p> + +<p>"Thank you. I shall hope to wait on the Rector shortly," +said young Wentworth, more and more stiffly; "but at present +I am sorry it is not in my power. Good morning, Miss +Wodehouse—good morning; I am happy to have had the +opportunity<span class="norewrap">——</span>" and the voice of the perpetual curate died +off into vague murmurs of politeness as he made his way +towards the green door.</p> + +<p>That green door! what a slight, paltry barrier—one plank +and no more; but outside a dusty dry road, nothing to be +seen but other high brick walls, with here and there an +apple-tree or a lilac, or the half-developed flower-turrets of +a chestnut looking over—nothing to be seen but a mean +little costermonger's cart, with a hapless donkey, and, down +in the direction of St Roque's, the long road winding, still +drier and dustier. Ah me! was it paradise inside? or was +it only a merely mortal lawn dropped over with apple-blossoms, +blue ribbons, and other vanities? Who could tell? +The perpetual curate wended sulky on his way. I fear the +old woman would have made neither flannel nor tea and +sugar out of him in that inhuman frame of mind.</p> + +<p>"Dreadful young prig that young Wentworth," said Mr +Wodehouse, "but comes of a great family, you know, and +gets greatly taken notice of—to be sure he does, child. I +suppose it's for his family's sake: I can't see into people's +hearts. It may be higher motives, to be sure, and all that. +He's gone off in a huff about something; never mind, luncheon +comes up all the same. Now, let's address ourselves to +the business of life."</p> + +<p>For when Mr Wodehouse took knife and fork in hand a +singular result followed. He was silent—at least he talked +no longer: the mystery of carving, of eating, of drinking—all +the serious business of the table—engrossed the good +man. He had nothing more to say for the moment; and +then a dread unbroken silence fell upon the little company. +The Rector coloured, faltered, cleared his throat—he had +not an idea how to get into conversation with such unknown +entities. He looked hard at Lucy, with a bold intention of +addressing her; but, having the bad fortune to meet her +eye, shrank back, and withdrew the venture. Then the +good man inclined his profile towards Miss Wentworth. +His eyes wandered wildly round the room in search of a +suggestion; but, alas! it was a mere dining-room, very comfortable, +but not imaginative. In his dreadful dilemma he +was infinitely relieved by the sound of somebody's voice.</p> + +<p>"I trust you will like Carlingford, Mr Proctor," said Miss +Wodehouse, mildly.</p> + +<p>"Yes—oh yes; I trust so," answered the confused but +grateful man; "that is, it will depend very much, of course, +on the kind of people I find here."</p> + +<p>"Well, we are a little vain. To tell the truth, indeed, +we rather pride ourselves a little on the good society in +Carlingford," said his gentle and charitable interlocutor.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes—ladies?" said the Rector: "hum—that was +not what I was thinking of."</p> + +<p>"But, oh, Mr Proctor," cried Lucy, with a sudden access +of fun, "you don't mean to say that you dislike ladies' +society, I hope?"</p> + +<p>The Rector gave an uneasy half-frightened glance at her. +The creature was dangerous even to a Fellow of All-Souls.</p> + +<p>"I may say I know very little about them," said the +bewildered clergyman. As soon as he had said the words he +thought they sounded rude; but how could he help it?—the +truth of his speech was indisputable.</p> + +<p>"Come here, and we'll initiate you—come here as often +as you can spare us a little of your time," cried Mr Wodehouse, +who had come to a pause in his operations. "You +couldn't have a better chance. They're head people in +Carlingford, though I say it. There's Mary, she's a learned +woman; take you up in a false quantity, sir, a deal sooner +than I should. And Lucy, she's in another line altogether; +but there's quantities of people swear by her. What's the +matter, children, eh? I suppose so—people tell me so. If +people tell me so all day long, I'm entitled to believe it, I +presume?"</p> + +<p>Lucy answered this by a burst of laughter, not loud but +cordial, which rang sweet and strange upon the Rector's +ears. Miss Wodehouse, on the contrary, looked a little +ashamed, blushed a pretty pink old-maidenly blush, and +mildly remonstrated with papa. The whole scene was astonishing +to the stranger. He had been living out of nature +so long that he wondered within himself whether it was +common to retain the habits and words of childhood to such +an age as that which good Miss Wodehouse put no disguise +upon, or if sisters with twenty years of difference between +them were usual in ordinary households. He looked at +them with looks which to Miss Wodehouse appeared disapproving, +but which in reality meant only surprise and discomfort. +He was exceedingly glad when lunch was over, +and he was at liberty to take his leave. With very different +feelings from those of young Wentworth the Rector crossed +the boundary of that green door. When he saw it closed +behind him he drew a long breath of relief, and looked up +and down the dusty road, and through those lines of garden +walls, where the loads of blossom burst over everywhere, +with a sensation of having escaped and got at liberty. After +a momentary pause and gaze round him in enjoyment of +that liberty, the Rector gave a start and went on again +rapidly. A dismayed, discomfited, helpless sensation came +over him. These parishioners!—these female parishioners! +From out of another of those green doors had just emerged +a brilliant group of ladies, the rustle of whose dress and +murmur of whose voices he could hear in the genteel half-rural +silence. The Rector bolted: he never slackened pace +nor drew breath till he was safe in the vacant library of the +Rectory, among old Mr Bury's book-shelves. It seemed the +only safe place in Carlingford to the languishing transplanted +Fellow of All-Souls.</p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h3> + +<p>A month later, Mr Proctor had got fairly settled in his new +rectory, with a complete modest establishment becoming his +means—for Carlingford was a tolerable living. And in the +newly-furnished sober drawing-room sat a very old lady, +lively but infirm, who was the Rector's mother. Nobody +knew that this old woman kept the Fellow of All-Souls still +a boy at heart, nor that the reserved and inappropriate man +forgot his awkwardness in his mother's presence. He was +not only a very affectionate son, but a dutiful good child to +her. It had been his pet scheme for years to bring her from +her Devonshire cottage, and make her mistress of his house. +That had been the chief attraction, indeed, which drew him +to Carlingford; for had he consulted his own tastes, and +kept to his college, who would insure him that at seventy-five +his old mother might not glide away out of life without +that last gleam of sunshine long intended for her by her +grateful son?</p> + +<p>This scene, accordingly, was almost the only one which +reconciled him to the extraordinary change in his life. +There she sat, the lively old lady; very deaf, as you could +almost divine by that vivid inquiring twinkle in her eyes; +feeble too, for she had a silver-headed cane beside her chair, +and even with that assistance seldom moved across the room +when she could help it. Feeble in body, but alert in mind, +ready to read anything, to hear anything, to deliver her +opinions freely; resting in her big chair in the complete +repose of age, gratified with her son's attentions, and over-joyed +in his company; interested about everything, and as +ready to enter into all the domestic concerns of the new +people as if she had lived all her life among them. The +Rector sighed and smiled as he listened to his mother's questions, +and did his best, at the top of his voice, to enlighten +her. His mother was, let us say, a hundred years or so +younger than the Rector. If she had been his bride, and at +the blithe commencement of life, she could not have shown +more inclination to know all about Carlingford. Mr Proctor +was middle-aged, and preoccupied by right of his years; but +his mother had long ago got over that stage of life. She +was at that point when some energetic natures, having got +to the bottom of the hill, seem to make a fresh start and +reascend. Five years ago, old Mrs Proctor had completed +the human term; now she had recommenced her life.</p> + +<p>But, to tell the very truth, the Rector would very fain, +had that been possible, have confined her inquiries to books +and public affairs. For to make confidential disclosures, +either concerning one's self or other people, in a tone of +voice perfectly audible in the kitchen, is somewhat trying. +He had become acquainted with those dread parishioners +of his during this interval. Already they had worn him to +death with dinner-parties—dinner-parties very pleasant and +friendly, when one got used to them; but to a stranger +frightful reproductions of each other, with the same dishes, +the same dresses, the same stories, in which the Rector communicated +gravely with his next neighbour, and eluded as +long as he could those concluding moments in the drawing-room +which were worst of all. It cannot be said that his +parishioners made much progress in their knowledge of the +Rector. What his "views" were, nobody could divine any +more than they could before his arrival. He made no +innovations whatever; but he did not pursue Mr Bury's +Evangelical ways, and never preached a sermon or a word +more than was absolutely necessary. When zealous Churchmen +discussed the progress of Dissent, the Rector scarcely +looked interested; and nobody could move him to express +an opinion concerning all that lovely upholstery with which +Mr Wentworth had decorated St Roque's. People asked +in vain, what was he? He was neither High nor Low, enlightened +nor narrow-minded; he was a Fellow of All-Souls.</p> + +<p>"But now tell me, my dear," said old Mrs Proctor, +"who's Mr Wodehouse?"</p> + +<p>With despairing calmness, the Rector approached his voice +to her ear. "He's a churchwarden!" cried the unfortunate +man, in a shrill whisper.</p> + +<p>"He's what?—you forget I don't hear very well. I'm +a great deal deafer, Morley, my dear, than I was the last +time you were in Devonshire. What did you say Mr Wodehouse +was?"</p> + +<p>"He's an ass!" exclaimed the baited Rector.</p> + +<p>Mrs Proctor nodded her head with a great many little +satisfied assenting nods.</p> + +<p>"Exactly my own opinion, my dear. What I like in your +manner of expressing yourself, Morley, is its conciseness," +said the laughing old lady. "Just so—exactly what I +imagined; but being an ass, you know, doesn't account for +him coming here so often. What is he besides, my dear?"</p> + +<p>The Rector made spasmodic gestures towards the door, to +the great amusement of his lively mother; and then produced, +with much confusion and after a long search, his +pocketbook, on a leaf of paper in which he wrote—loudly, +in big characters—"He's a churchwarden—they'll hear in +the kitchen."</p> + +<p>"He's a churchwarden! And what if they do hear in the +kitchen?" cried the old lady, greatly amused; "it isn't a +sin. Well, now, let me hear: has he a family, Morley?"</p> + +<p>Again Mr Proctor showed a little discomposure. After a +troubled look at the door, and pause, as if he meditated a +remonstrance, he changed his mind, and answered, "Two +daughters!" shouting sepulchrally into his mother's ear.</p> + +<p>"Oh so!" cried the old lady—"<i>two daughters</i>—so, so—that +explains it all at once. I know now why he comes to +the Rectory so often. And, I declare, I never thought of it +before. Why, you're always there!—so, so—and he's got +<i>two daughters</i>, has he? To be sure; now I understand it all."</p> + +<p>The Rector looked helpless and puzzled. It was difficult +to take the initiative and ask why—but the poor man +looked so perplexed and ignorant, and so clearly unaware +what the solution was, that the old lady burst into shrill, +gay laughter as she looked at him.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you know anything about it," she said. +"Are they old or young? are they pretty or ugly? Tell me +all about them, Morley."</p> + +<p>Now Mr Proctor had not the excuse of having forgotten +the appearance of the two Miss Wodehouses: on the contrary, +though not an imaginative man, he could have fancied +he saw them both before him—Lucy lost in noiseless laughter, +and her good elder sister deprecating and gentle as usual. +We will not even undertake to say that a gleam of something +blue did not flash across the mind of the good man, who did +not know what ribbons were. He was so much bewildered +that Mrs Proctor repeated her question, and, as she did so, +tapped him pretty smartly on the arm to recall his wandering +thoughts.</p> + +<p>"One's one thing," at last shouted the confused man, "and +t'other's another!" An oracular deliverance which surely +must have been entirely unintelligible in the kitchen, where +we will not deny that an utterance so incomprehensible awoke +a laudable curiosity.</p> + +<p>"My dear, you're lucid!" cried the old lady, "I hope +you don't preach like that. T'other's another!—is she so? +and I suppose that's the one you're wanted to marry—eh? +For shame, Morley, not to tell your mother!"</p> + +<p>The Rector jumped to his feet, thunderstruck. Wanted +to marry!—the idea was too overwhelming and dreadful—his +mind could not receive it. The air of alarm which immediately +diffused itself all over him—his unfeigned horror at +the suggestion—captivated his mother. She was amused, +but she was pleased at the same time. Just making her +cheery outset on this second lifetime, you can't suppose she +would have been glad to hear that her son was going to jilt +her, and appoint another queen in her stead.</p> + +<p>"Sit down and tell me about them," said Mrs Proctor; +"my dear, you're wonderfully afraid of the servants hearing. +They don't know who we're speaking of. Aha! and so you +didn't know what they meant—didn't you? I don't say +you shouldn't marry, my dear—quite the reverse. A man +<i>ought</i> to marry, one time or another. Only it's rather soon to +lay their plans. I don't doubt there's a great many unmarried +ladies in your church, Morley. There always is in a +country place."</p> + +<p>To this the alarmed Rector answered only by a groan—a +groan so expressive that his quick-witted mother heard it +with her eyes.</p> + +<p>"They will come to call on me," said Mrs Proctor, with +fun dancing in her bright old eyes. "I'll tell you all about +them, and you needn't be afraid of the servants. Trust to +me, my dear—I'll find them out. And now, if you wish to +take a walk, or go out visiting, don't let me detain you, +Morley. I shouldn't wonder but there's something in the +papers I would like to see—or I even might close my eyes +for a few minutes: the afternoon is always a drowsy time +with me. When I was in Devonshire, you know, no one +minded what I did. You had better refresh yourself with a +nice walk, my dear boy."</p> + +<p>The Rector got up well pleased. The alacrity with +which he left the room, however, did not correspond with +the horror-stricken and helpless expression of his face, when, +after walking very smartly all round the Rectory garden, he +paused with his hand on the gate, doubtful whether to retreat +into his study, or boldly to face that world which was plotting +against him. The question was a profoundly serious +one to Mr Proctor. He did not feel by any means sure that +he was a free agent, or could assert the ordinary rights of an +Englishman, in this most unexpected dilemma. How could +he tell how much or how little was necessary to prove that +a man had "committed himself"? For anything he could +tell, somebody might be calculating upon him as her lover, +and settling his future life for him. The Rector was not vain—he +did not think himself an Adonis; he did not understand +anything about the matter, which indeed was beneath +the consideration of a Fellow of All-Souls. But have not +women been incomprehensible since ever there was in this +world a pen with sufficient command of words to call them +so? And is it not certain that, whether it may be to their +advantage or disadvantage, every soul of them is plotting to +marry somebody? Mr Proctor recalled in dim but frightful +reminiscences stories which had dropped upon his ear at +various times of his life. Never was there a man, however +ugly, disagreeable, or penniless, but he could tell of a narrow +escape he had, some time or other. The Rector recollected +and trembled. No woman was ever so dismayed by the persecutions +of a lover, as was this helpless middle-aged gentleman +under the conviction that Lucy Wodehouse meant to +marry him. The remembrance of the curate of St Roque's +gave him no comfort: her sweet youth, so totally unlike his +sober age, did not strike him as unfavourable to her pursuit +of him. Who could fathom the motives of a woman? His +mother was wise, and knew the world, and understood what +such creatures meant. No doubt it was entirely the case—a +dreadful certainty—and what was he to do?</p> + +<p>At the bottom of all this fright and perplexity must it be +owned that the Rector had a guilty consciousness within +himself, that if Lucy drove the matter to extremities, he was +not so sure of his own powers of resistance as he ought to be? +She might marry him before he knew what he was about; +and in such a case the Rector could not have taken his oath +at his own private confessional that he would have been +so deeply miserable as the circumstances might infer. No +wonder he was alarmed at the position in which he found +himself; nobody could predict how it might end.</p> + +<p>When Mr Proctor saw his mother again at dinner, she was +evidently full of some subject which would not bear talking +of before the servants. The old lady looked at her son's +troubled apprehensive face with smiles and nods and gay +hints, which he was much too preoccupied to understand, +and which only increased his bewilderment. When the good +man was left alone over his glass of wine, he drank it slowly, +in funereal silence, with profoundly serious looks; and what +between eagerness to understand what the old lady meant, +and reluctance to show the extent of his curiosity, had a very +heavy half-hour of it in that grave solitary dining-room. He +roused himself with an effort from this dismal state into +which he was falling. He recalled with a sigh the classic +board of All-Souls. Woe for the day when he was seduced +to forsake that dear retirement! Really, to suffer himself to +fall into a condition so melancholy, was far from being right. +He must rouse himself—he must find some other society +than parishioners; and with a glimpse of a series of snug +little dinner-parties, undisturbed by the presence of women, +Mr Proctor rose and hurried after his mother, to hear what +new thing she might have to say.</p> + +<p>Nor was he disappointed. The old lady was snugly posted, +ready for a conference. She made lively gestures to hasten +him when he appeared at the door, and could scarcely delay +the utterance of her news till he had taken his seat beside +her. She had taken off her spectacles, and laid aside her +paper, and cleared off her work into her work-basket. All +was ready for the talk in which she delighted.</p> + +<p>"My dear, they've been here," said old Mrs Proctor, rubbing +her hands—"both together, and as kind as could +be—exactly as I expected. An old woman gets double +the attention when she's got an unmarried son. I've always +observed that; though in Devonshire, what with your +fellowship and seeing you so seldom, nobody took much notice. +Yes, they've been here; and I like them a great deal better +than I expected, Morley, my dear."</p> + +<p>The Rector, not knowing what else to say, shouted "Indeed, +mother!" into the old lady's ear.</p> + +<p>"Quite so," continued that lively observer—"nice young +women—not at all like their father, which is a great consolation. +That elder one is a very sensible person, I am sure. +She would make a nice wife for somebody, especially for a +clergyman. She is not in her first youth, but neither are +some other people. A very nice creature indeed, I am +quite sure."</p> + +<p>During all this speech the Rector's countenance had been +falling, falling. If he was helpless before, the utter woe of +his expression now was a spectacle to behold. The danger +of being married by proxy was appalling certainly, yet was +not entirely without alleviations; but Miss Wodehouse! who +ever thought of Miss Wodehouse? To see the last remains +of colour fade out of his cheek, and his very lip fall with +disappointment, was deeply edifying to his lively old mother. +She perceived it all, but made no sign.</p> + +<p>"And the other is a pretty creature—certainly pretty: +shouldn't you say she was pretty, Morley?" said his heartless +mother.</p> + +<p>Mr Proctor hesitated, hemmed—felt himself growing red—tried +to intimate his sentiments by a nod of assent; but +that would not do, for the old lady had presented her ear +to him, and was blind to all his gestures.</p> + +<p>"I don't know much about it, mother," he made answer +at last.</p> + +<p>"<i>Much</i> about it! it's to be hoped not. I never supposed +you did; but you don't mean to say you don't think her +pretty?" said Mrs Proctor—"but, I don't doubt in the +least, a sad flirt. Her sister is a very superior person, my +dear."</p> + +<p>The Rector's face lengthened at every word—a vision of +these two Miss Wodehouses rose upon him every moment +clearer and more distinct as his mother spoke. Considering +how ignorant he was of all such female paraphernalia, it is +extraordinary how correct his recollection was of all the +details of their habitual dress and appearance. With a +certain dreadful consciousness of the justice of what his +mother said, he saw in imagination the mild elder sister in +her comely old-maidenhood. Nobody could doubt her good +qualities, and could it be questioned that for a man of fifty, +if he was to do anything so foolish, a woman not quite +forty was a thousand times more eligible than a creature +in blue ribbons? Still the unfortunate Rector did not +seem to see it: his face grew longer and longer—he made +no answer whatever to his mother's address; while she, +with a spice of natural female malice against the common +enemy triumphing for the moment over the mother's admiration +of her son, sat wickedly enjoying his distress, and +aggravating it. His dismay and perplexity amused this +wicked old woman beyond measure.</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt that younger girl takes a pleasure in +deluding her admirers," said Mrs Proctor; "she's a wicked +little flirt, and likes nothing better than to see her power. +I know very well how such people do; but, my dear," +continued this false old lady, scarcely able to restrain her +laughter, "if I were you, I would be very civil to Miss +Wodehouse. You may depend upon it, Morley, that's a +very superior person. She is not very young, to be sure, +but you are not very young yourself. She would make a +nice wife—not too foolish, you know, nor fanciful. Ah! +I like Miss Wodehouse, my dear."</p> + +<p>The Rector stumbled up to his feet hastily, and pointed +to a table at a little distance, on which some books were +lying. Then he went and brought them to her table. "I've +brought you some new books," he shouted into her ear. It +was the only way his clumsy ingenuity could fall upon for +bringing this most distasteful conversation to an end.</p> + +<p>The old lady's eyes were dancing with fun and a little +mischief, but, notwithstanding, she could not be so false to +her nature as to show no interest in the books. She turned +them over with lively remarks and comment. "But for +all that, Morley, I would not have you forget Miss Wodehouse," +she said, when her early bedtime came. "Give it +a thought now and then, and consider the whole matter. +It is not a thing to be done rashly; but still you know you +are settled now, and you ought to be thinking of settling +for life."</p> + +<p>With this parting shaft she left him. The troubled +Rector, instead of sitting up to his beloved studies, went +early to bed that night, and was pursued by nightmares +through his unquiet slumbers. Settling for life! Alas! +there floated before him vain visions of that halcyon world +he had left—that sacred soil at All-Souls, where there were +no parishioners to break the sweet repose. How different +was this discomposing real world!</p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h3> + +<p>Matters went on quietly for some time without any +catastrophe occurring to the Rector. He had shut himself +up from all society, and declined the invitations of the +parishioners for ten long days at least; but finding that +the kind people were only kinder than ever when they +understood he was "indisposed," poor Mr Proctor resumed +his ordinary life, confiding timidly in some extra precautions +which his own ingenuity had invented. He was +shyer than ever of addressing the ladies in those parties he +was obliged to attend. He was especially embarrassed and +uncomfortable in the presence of the two Miss Wodehouses, +who, unfortunately, were very popular in Carlingford, +and whom he could not help meeting everywhere. +Notwithstanding this embarrassment, it is curious how +well he knew how they looked, and what they were doing, +and all about them. Though he could not for his life +have told what these things were called, he knew Miss +Wodehouse's dove-coloured dress and her French grey; +and all those gleams of blue which set off Lucy's fair curls, +and floated about her pretty person under various pretences, +had a distinct though inarticulate place in the good man's +confused remembrance. But neither Lucy nor Miss Wodehouse +had brought matters to extremity. He even ventured +to go to their house occasionally without any harm coming +of it, and lingered in that blooming fragrant garden, where +the blossoms had given place to fruit, and ruddy apples +hung heavy on the branches which had once scattered +their petals, rosy-white, on Frank Wentworth's Anglican +coat. Yet Mr Proctor was not lulled into incaution by +this seeming calm. Other people besides his mother had +intimated to him that there were expectations current of +his "settling in life." He lived not in false security, but +wise trembling, never knowing what hour the thunderbolt +might fall upon his head.</p> + +<p>It happened one day, while still in this condition of +mind, that the Rector was passing through Grove Street on +his way home. He was walking on the humbler side of +the street, where there is a row of cottages with little gardens +in front of them—cheap houses, which are contented +to be haughtily overlooked by the staircase windows +and blank walls of their richer neighbours on the other +side of the road. The Rector thought, but could not be +sure, that he had seen two figures like those of the Miss +Wodehouses going into one of these houses, and was making +a little haste to escape meeting those enemies of his peace. +But as he wont hastily on, he heard sobs and screams—sounds +which a man who hid a good heart under a shy +exterior could not willingly pass by. He made a troubled +pause before the door from which these outcries proceeded, +and while he stood thus irresolute whether to pass on or to +stop and inquire the cause, some one came rushing out and +took hold of his arm. "Please, sir, she's dying—oh, please, +sir, she thought a deal o' you. Please, will you come in and +speak to her?" cried the little servant-girl who had pounced +upon him so. The Rector stared at her in amazement. +He had not his prayer-book—he was not prepared; he had +no idea of being called upon in such an emergency. In the +mean time the commotion rather increased in the house, +and he could hear in the distance a voice adjuring some +one to go for the clergyman. The Rector stood uncertain +and perplexed, perhaps in a more serious personal difficulty +than had ever happened to him all his life before. For +what did he know about deathbeds? or what had he to +say to any one on that dread verge? He grew pale with +real vexation and distress.</p> + +<p>"Have they gone for a doctor? that would be more to +the purpose," he said, unconsciously, aloud.</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, it's no good," said the little maid-servant. +"Please, the doctor's been, but he's no good—and she's +unhappy in her mind, though she's quite resigned to go: +and oh, please, if you would say a word to her, it might do +her a deal of good."</p> + +<p>Thus adjured, the Rector had no choice. He went +gloomily into the house and up the stair after his little +guide. Why did not they send for the minister of Salem +Chapel close by? or for Mr Wentworth, who was accustomed +to that sort of thing? Why did they resort to him +in such an emergency? He would have made his appearance +before the highest magnates of the land—before the +Queen herself—before the bench of bishops or the Privy +Council—with less trepidation than he entered that poor +little room.</p> + +<p>The sufferer lay breathing heavily in the poor apartment. +She did not look very ill to Mr Proctor's inexperienced +eyes. Her colour was bright, and her face full of eagerness. +Near the door stood Miss Wodehouse, looking compassionate +but helpless, casting wistful glances at the bed, +but standing back in a corner as confused and embarrassed +as the Rector himself. Lucy was standing by the pillow +of the sick woman with a watchful readiness visible to +the most unskilled eye—ready to raise her, to change her +position, to attend to her wants almost before they were +expressed. The contrast was wonderful. She had thrown +off her bonnet and shawl, and appeared, not like a stranger, +but somehow in her natural place, despite the sweet youthful +beauty of her looks, and the gay girlish dress with its +floating ribbons. These singular adjuncts notwithstanding, +no homely nurse in a cotton gown could have looked more +alert or serviceable, or more natural to the position, than +Lucy did. The poor Rector, taking the seat which the +little maid placed for him directly in the centre of the +room, looked at the nurse and the patient with a gasp of +perplexity and embarrassment. A deathbed, alas! was an +unknown region to him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, I'm obliged to you for coming—oh, sir, I'm +grateful to you," cried the poor woman in the bed. "I've +been ill, off and on, for years, but never took thought to it +as I ought. I've put off and put off, waiting for a better +time—and now, God help me, it's perhaps too late. Oh, +sir, tell me, when a person's ill and dying, is it too late?"</p> + +<p>Before the Rector could even imagine what he could +answer, the sick woman took up the broken thread of her +own words, and continued—</p> + +<p>"I don't feel to trust as I ought to—I don't feel no confidence," +she said, in anxious confession. "Oh, sir, do +you think it matters if one feels it?—don't you think +things might be right all the same though we <i>were</i> uneasy +in our minds? My thinking can't change it one way or +another. Ask the good gentleman to speak to me, Miss +Lucy, dear—he'll mind what <i>you</i> say."</p> + +<p>A look from Lucy quickened the Rector's speech, but +increased his embarrassments. "It—it isn't her doctor she +has no confidence in?" he said, eagerly.</p> + +<p>The poor woman gave a little cry. "The doctor—the +doctor! what can he do to a poor dying creature? Oh, +Lord bless you, it's none of them things I'm thinking of; +it's my soul—my soul!"</p> + +<p>"But my poor good woman," said Mr Proctor, "though +it is very good and praiseworthy of you to be anxious about +your soul, let us hope that there is no such—no such <i>haste</i> +as you seem to suppose."</p> + +<p>The patient opened her eyes wide, and stared, with the +anxious look of disease, in his face.</p> + +<p>"I mean," said the good man, faltering under that gaze, +"that I see no reason for your making yourself so very +anxious. Let us hope it is not so bad as that. You are +very ill, but not <i>so</i> ill—I suppose."</p> + +<p>Here the Rector was interrupted by a groan from the +patient, and by a troubled, disapproving, disappointed look +from Lucy Wodehouse. This brought him to a sudden +standstill. He gazed for a moment helplessly at the poor +woman in the bed. If he had known anything in the +world which would have given her consolation, he was ready +to have made any exertion for it; but he knew nothing to +say—no medicine for a mind diseased was in his repositories. +He was deeply distressed to see the disappointment which +followed his words, but his distress only made him more +silent, more helpless, more inefficient than before.</p> + +<p>After an interval which was disturbed only by the +groans of the patient and the uneasy fidgeting of good +Miss Wodehouse in her corner, the Rector again broke +silence. The sick woman had turned to the wall, and +closed her eyes in dismay and disappointment—evidently +she had ceased to expect anything from him.</p> + +<p>"If there is anything I can do," said poor Mr Proctor, +"I am afraid I have spoken hastily. I meant to try to +calm her mind a little; if I can be of any use?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, maybe I'm hasty," said the dying woman, turning +round again with a sudden effort—"but, oh, to speak to me +of having time when I've one foot in the grave already!"</p> + +<p>"Not so bad as that—not so bad as that," said the +Rector, soothingly.</p> + +<p>"But I tell you it is as bad as that," she cried, with the brief +blaze of anger common to great weakness. "I'm not a child +to be persuaded different from what I know. If you'd tell me—if +you'd say a prayer—ah, Miss Lucy, it's coming on again."</p> + +<p>In a moment Lucy had raised the poor creature in her +arms, and in default of the pillows which were not at +hand, had risen herself into their place, and supported the +gasping woman against her own breast. It was a paroxysm +dreadful to behold, in which every labouring breath seemed +the last. The Rector sat like one struck dumb, looking +on at that mortal struggle. Miss Wodehouse approached +nervously from behind, and went up to the bedside, faltering +forth questions as to what she could do. Lucy only +waved her hand, as her own light figure swayed and +changed, always seeking the easiest attitude for the sufferer. +As the elder sister drew back, the Rector and she +glanced at each other with wistful mutual looks of sympathy. +Both were equally well-disposed, equally helpless +and embarrassed. How to be of any use in that dreadful +agony of nature was denied to both. They stood looking +on, awed and self-reproaching. Such scenes have doubtless +happened in sick-rooms before now.</p> + +<p>When the fit was over, a hasty step came up the stair, +and Mr Wentworth entered the room. He explained in a +whisper that he had not been at home when the messenger +came, but had followed whenever he heard of the message. +Seeing the Rector, he hesitated, and drew back with some +surprise, and, even (for he was far from perfect) in that +chamber, a little flush of offence. The Rector rose abruptly, +waving his hand, and went to join Miss Wodehouse in her +corner. There the two elderly spectators looked on silent +at ministrations of which both were incapable; one watching +with wondering yet affectionate envy how Lucy laid +down the weakened but relieved patient upon her pillows; +and one beholding with a surprise he could not conceal, +how a young man, not half his own age, went softly, with +all the confidence yet awe of nature, into those mysteries +which he dared not touch upon. The two young creatures +by the deathbed acknowledged that their patient was dying; +the woman stood by her watchful and affectionate—the +man held up before her that cross, not of wood or metal, +but of truth and everlasting verity, which is the only hope +of man. The spectators looked on, and did not interrupt—looked +on, awed and wondering—unaware of how it was, +but watching, as if it were a miracle wrought before their +eyes. Perhaps all the years of his life had not taught the +Rector so much as did that half-hour in an unknown poor +bed-chamber, where, honest and humble, he stood aside, +and, kneeling down, responded to his young brother's +prayer. His young brother—young enough to have been +his son—not half nor a quarter part so learned as he; but +a world further on in that profession which they shared—the +art of winning souls.</p> + +<p>When those prayers were over, the Rector, without a word +to anybody, stole quietly away. When he got into the +street, however, he found himself closely followed by Miss +Wodehouse, of whom he was not at this moment afraid. +That good creature was crying softly under her veil. She +was eager to make up to him, to open out her full heart; +and indeed the Rector, like herself, in that wonderful sensation +of surprised and unenvying discomfiture, was glad at +that moment of sympathy too.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr Proctor, isn't it wonderful?" sighed good Miss +Wodehouse.</p> + +<p>The Rector did not speak, but he answered by a very +emphatic nod of his head.</p> + +<p>"It did not use to be so when you and I were young," +said his companion in failure. "I sometimes take a little +comfort from that; but no doubt, if it had been in me, it +would have shown itself somehow. Ah, I fear, I fear, I +was not well brought up; but, to be sure, that dear child +has not been brought up at all, if one may say so. Her +poor mother died when she was born. And oh, I'm afraid +I never was kind to Lucy's mother, Mr Proctor. You know +she was only a year or two older than I was; and to think +of that child, that baby! What a world she is, and always +was, before me, that might have been her mother, Mr +Proctor!" said Miss Wodehouse, with a little sob.</p> + +<p>"But things were different in our young days," said the +Rector, repeating her sentiment, without inquiring whether +it were true or not, and finding a certain vague consolation +in it.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that is true," said Miss Wodehouse—"that is true; +what a blessing things are so changed; and these blessed +young creatures," she added softly, with tears falling out of +her gentle old eyes—"these blessed young creatures are +near the Fountainhead."</p> + +<p>With this speech Miss Wodehouse held out her hand to +the Rector, and they parted with a warm mutual grasp. +The Rector went straight home—straight to his study, +where he shut himself in, and was not to be disturbed; +that night was one long to be remembered in the good +man's history. For the first time in his life he set himself +to inquire what was his supposed business in this world. +His treatise on the Greek verb, and his new edition of +Sophocles, were highly creditable to the Fellow of All-Souls; +but how about the Rector of Carlingford? What +was he doing here, among that little world of human +creatures who were dying, being born, perishing, suffering, +falling into misfortune and anguish, and all manner of +human vicissitudes, every day? Young Wentworth knew +what to say to that woman in her distress; and so might +the Rector, had her distress concerned a disputed translation, +or a disused idiom. The good man was startled in +his composure and calm. To-day he had visibly failed in +a duty which even in All-Souls was certainly known to be +one of the duties of a Christian priest. Was he a Christian +priest, or what was he? He was troubled to the very +depths of his soul. To hold an office the duties of which +he could not perform, was clearly impossible. The only +question, and that a hard one, was, whether he could learn +to discharge those duties, or whether he must cease to be +Rector of Carlingford. He laboured over this problem in +his solitude, and could find no answer. "Things were +different when we were young," was the only thought that +was any comfort to him, and that was poor consolation.</p> + +<p>For one thing, it is hard upon the most magnanimous of +men to confess that he has undertaken an office for which +he has not found himself capable. Magnanimity was +perhaps too lofty a word to apply to the Rector; but he +was honest to the bottom of his soul. As soon as he +became aware of what was included in the duties of his +office, he must perform them, or quit his post. But how +to perform them? Can one <i>learn</i> to convey consolation to +the dying, to teach the ignorant, to comfort the sorrowful? +Are these matters to be acquired by study, like Greek verbs +or intricate measures? The Rector's heart said No. The +Rector's imagination unfolded before him, in all its halcyon +blessedness, that ancient paradise of All-Souls, where no +such confounding demands ever disturbed his beatitude. +The good man groaned within himself over the mortification, +the labour, the sorrow, which this living was bringing +upon him. "If I had but let it pass to Morgan, who wanted +to marry," he said with self-reproach; and then suddenly +bethought himself of his own most innocent filial romance, +and the pleasure his mother had taken in her new house +and new beginning of life. At that touch the tide flowed +back again. Could he dismiss her now to another solitary +cottage in Devonshire, her old home there being all dispersed +and broken up, while the house she had hoped to die in +cast her out from its long-hoped-for shelter? The Rector +was quite overwhelmed by this new aggravation. If by +any effort of his own, any sacrifice to himself, he could +preserve this bright new home to his mother, would he +shrink from that labour of love?</p> + +<p>Nobody, however, knew anything about those conflicting +thoughts which rent his sober bosom. He preached next +Sunday as usual, letting no trace of the distressed, wistful +anxiety to do his duty which now possessed him gleam into +his sermon. He looked down upon a crowd of unsympathetic, +uninterested faces, when he delivered that smooth +little sermon, which nobody cared much about, and which +disturbed nobody. The only eyes which in the smallest +degree comprehended him were those of good Miss Wodehouse, +who had been the witness and the participator of his +humiliation. Lucy was not there. Doubtless Lucy was at +St Roque's, where the sermons of the perpetual curate differed +much from those of the Rector of Carlingford. Ah +me! the rectorship, with all its responsibilities, was a serious +business; and what was to become of it yet, Mr Proctor +could not see. He was not a hasty man—he determined to +wait and see what events might make of it; to consider it +ripely—to take full counsel with himself. Every time he +came out of his mother's presence, he came affected and full +of anxiety to preserve to her that home which pleased her so +much. She was the strong point in favour of Carlingford; +and it was no small tribute to the good man's filial affection, +that for her chiefly he kept his neck under the yoke of a +service to which he knew himself unequal, and, sighing, +turned his back upon his beloved cloisters. If there had +been no other sick-beds immediately in Carlingford, Mrs +Proctor would have won the day.</p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + +<p>Such a blessed exemption, however, was not to be hoped +for. When the Rector was solemnly sent for from his very +study to visit a poor man who was not expected to live +many days, he put his prayer-book under his arm, and went +off doggedly, feeling that now was the crisis. He went +through it in as exemplary a manner as could have been +desired, but it was dreadful work to the Rector. If nobody +else suspected him, he suspected himself. He had no +spontaneous word of encouragement or consolation to offer; +he went through it as his duty with a horrible abstractness. +That night he went home disgusted beyond all possible +power of self-reconciliation. He could not continue this. +Good evangelical Mr Bury, who went before him, and by +nature loved preaching, had accustomed the people to much of +such visitations. It was murder to the Fellow of All-Souls.</p> + +<p>That night Mr Proctor wrote a long letter to his dear +cheery old mother, disclosing all his heart to her. It was +written with a pathos of which the good man was wholly +unconscious, and finished by asking her advice and her +prayers. He sent it up to her next morning on her breakfast +tray, which he always furnished with his own hands, +and went out to occupy himself in paying visits till it should +be time to see her, and ascertain her opinion. At Mr Wodehouse's +there was nobody at home but Lucy, who was very +friendly, and took no notice of that sad encounter which had +changed his views so entirely. The Rector found, on inquiry, +that the woman was dead, but not until Mr Wentworth +had administered to her fully the consolations of the +church. Lucy did not look superior, or say anything in +admiration of Mr Wentworth, but the Rector's conscience +supplied all that was wanting. If good Miss Wodehouse +had been there with her charitable looks, and her disefficiency +so like his own, it would have been a consolation +to the good man. He would have turned joyfully from +Lucy and her blue ribbons to that distressed dove-coloured +woman, so greatly had recent events changed him. But +the truth was, he cared nothing for either of them nowadays. +He was delivered from those whimsical distressing +fears. Something more serious had obliterated those +lighter apprehensions. He had no leisure now to think +that somebody had planned to marry him; all his thoughts +were fixed on matters so much more important that this was +entirely forgotten.</p> + +<p>Mrs Proctor was seated as usual in the place she loved, +with her newspapers, her books, her work-basket, and silver-headed +cane at the side of her chair. The old lady, like her +son, looked serious. She beckoned him to quicken his steps +when she saw him appear at the drawing-room door, and +pointed to the chair placed beside her, all ready for this solemn +conference. He came in with a troubled face, scarcely +venturing to look at her, afraid to see the disappointment +which he had brought upon his dearest friend. The old lady +divined why it was he did not lift his eyes. She took his +hand and addressed him with all her characteristic vivacity.</p> + +<p>"Morley, what is this you mean, my dear? When did I +ever give my son reason to distrust me? Do you think I +would suffer you to continue in a position painful to yourself +for my sake? How dare you think such a thing of +me, Morley? Don't say so? you didn't mean it; I can +see it in your eyes."</p> + +<p>The Rector shook his head, and dropped into the chair +placed ready for him. He might have had a great deal to say +for himself could she have heard him. But as it was, he +could not shout all his reasons and apologies into her deaf ear.</p> + +<p>"As for the change to me," said the old lady, instinctively +seizing upon the heart of the difficulty, "that's nothing—simply +nothing. I've not had time to get attached to Carlingford. +I've no associations with the place. Of course I +shall be very glad to go back to all my old friends. Put +that out of the question, Morley."</p> + +<p>But the Rector only shook his head once more. The +more she made light of it, the more he perceived all the +painful circumstances involved. Could his mother go back +to Devonshire and tell all her old ladies that her son had +made a failure in Carlingford? He grieved within himself +at the thought. His brethren at All-Souls might understand +<i>him</i>; but what could console the brave old woman for all the +condolence and commiseration to which she would be subject? +"It goes to my heart, mother," he cried in her ear.</p> + +<p>"Well, Morley, I am very sorry you find it so," said the +old lady; "very sorry you can't see your way to all your +duties. They tell me the late rector was very Low Church, +and visited about like a Dissenter, so it is not much wonder +you, with your different habits, find yourself a good deal +put out; but, my dear, don't you think it's only at first? +Don't you think after a while the people would get into +your ways, and you into theirs? Miss Wodehouse was +here this morning, and was telling me a good deal about the +late rector. It's to be expected you should find the difference; +but by-and-by, to be sure, you might get used to it, +and the people would not expect so much."</p> + +<p>"Did she tell you where we met the other day?" asked +the Rector, with a brevity rendered necessary by Mrs Proctor's +infirmity.</p> + +<p>"She told me—she's a dear confused good soul," said the +old lady—"about the difference between Lucy and herself, +and how the young creature was twenty times handier than +she, and something about young Mr Wentworth of St +Roque's. Really, by all I hear, that must be a very presuming +young man," cried Mrs Proctor, with a lively air of +offence. "His interference among your parishioners, Morley, +is really more than I should be inclined to bear."</p> + +<p>Once more the good Rector shook his head. He had not +thought of that aspect of the subject. He was indeed so free +from vanity or self-importance, that his only feeling in regard +to the sudden appearance of the perpetual curate was respect +and surprise. He would not be convinced otherwise even +now. "He can do his duty, mother," he answered, sadly.</p> + +<p>"Stuff and nonsense!" cried the old lady. "Do you +mean to tell me a boy like that can do his duty better than +my son could do it, if he put his mind to it? And if it is +your duty, Morley, dear," continued his mother, melting a +little, and in a coaxing persuasive tone, "of course I know +you <i>will</i> do it, however hard it may be."</p> + +<p>"That's just the difficulty," cried the Rector, venturing +on a longer speech than usual, and roused to a point at +which he had no fear of the listeners in the kitchen; "such +duties require other training than mine has been. I can't!—do +you hear me, mother?—I must not hold a false +position; that's impossible."</p> + +<p>"You shan't hold a false position," cried the old lady; +"that's the only thing that <i>is</i> impossible—but, Morley, let +us consider, dear. You are a clergyman, you know; you +ought to understand all that's required of you a great deal +better than these people do. My dear, your poor father +and I trained you up to be a clergyman," said Mrs Proctor, +rather pathetically, "and not to be a Fellow of All-Souls."</p> + +<p>The Rector groaned. Had it not been advancement, +progress, unhoped-for good fortune, that made him a member +of that learned corporation? He shook his head. +Nothing could change the fact now. After fifteen years' +experience of that Elysium, he could not put on the cassock +and surplice with all his youthful fervour. He had settled +into his life-habits long ago. With the quick perception +which made up for her deficiency, his mother read his face, +and saw the cause was hopeless; yet with female courage +and pertinacity made one effort more.</p> + +<p>"And with an excellent hard-working curate," said the +old lady—"a curate whom, of course, we'd do our duty by, +Morley, and who could take a great deal of the responsibility +off your hands; for Mr Leigh, though a nice young +man, is not, I know, the man <i>you</i> would have chosen for +such a post; and still more, my dear son—we were talking +of it in jest not long ago, but it is perfect earnest, and a most +important matter—with a good wife, Morley; a wife who +would enter into all the parish work, and give you useful +hints, and conduct herself as a clergyman's wife should—with +such a wife<span class="norewrap">——</span>"</p> + +<p>"Lucy Wodehouse!" cried the Rector, starting to his +feet, and forgetting all his proprieties; "I tell you the +thing is impossible. I'll go back to All-Souls."</p> + +<p>He sat down again doggedly, having said it. His mother +sat looking at him in silence, with tears in her lively old +eyes. She was saying within herself that she had seen his +father take just such a "turn," and that it was no use +arguing with them under such circumstances. She watched +him as women often do watch men, waiting till the creature +should come to itself again and might be spoken to. The +incomprehensibleness of women is an old theory, but what +is that to the curious wondering observation with which +wives, mothers, and sisters watch the other unreasoning +animal in those moments when he has snatched the reins +out of their hands, and is not to be spoken to! What he +will make of it in those unassisted moments, afflicts the +compassionate female understanding. It is best to let him +come to, and feel his own helplessness. Such was Mrs +Proctor's conclusion, as, vexed, distressed, and helpless, she +leant back in her chair, and wiped a few tears of disappointment +and vexation out of her bright old eyes.</p> + +<p>The Rector saw this movement, and it once more excited +him to speech. "But you shall have a house in Oxford, +mother," he cried—"you shan't go back to Devonshire—where +I can see you every day, and you can hear all that is +going on. Bravo! that will be a thousand times better +than Carlingford."</p> + +<p>It was now Mrs Proctor's turn to jump up, startled, and +put her hand on his mouth and point to the door. The +Rector did not care for the door; he had disclosed his +sentiments, he had taken his resolution, and now the sooner +all was over the better for the emancipated man.</p> + +<p>Thus concluded the brief incumbency of the Reverend +Morley Proctor. He returned to Oxford before his year of +grace was over, and found everybody very glad to see him; +and he left Carlingford with universal good wishes. The +living fell to Morgan, who wanted to be married, and whose +turn was much more to be a working clergyman than a +classical commentator. Old Mrs Proctor got a pretty house +under shelter of the trees of St Giles's, and half the under-graduates +fell in love with the old lady in the freshness of +her second lifetime. Carlingford passed away like a dream +from the lively old mother's memory, and how could any +reminiscences of that uncongenial locality disturb the recovered +beatitude of the Fellow of All-Souls?</p> + +<p>Yet all was not so satisfactory as it appeared. Mr +Proctor paid for his temporary absence. All-Souls was not +the Elysium it had been before that brief disastrous voyage +into the world. The good man felt the stings of failure; +he felt the mild jokes of his brethren in those Elysian fields. +He could not help conjuring up to himself visions of Morgan +with his new wife in that pretty rectory. Life, after all, +did not consist of books, nor were Greek verbs essential to +happiness. The strong emotion into which his own failure +had roused him; the wondering silence in which he stood +looking at the ministrations of Lucy Wodehouse and the +young curate; the tearful sympathetic woman as helpless +as himself, who had stood beside him in that sick chamber, +came back upon his recollection strangely, amidst the +repose, not so blessed as heretofore, of All-Souls. The good +man had found out that secret of discontent which most +men find out a great deal earlier than he. Something +better, though it might be sadder, harder, more calamitous, +was in this world. Was there ever human creature yet +that had not something in him more congenial to the +thorns and briars outside to be conquered, than to that +mild paradise for which our primeval mother disqualified +all her children? When he went back to his dear cloisters, +good Mr Proctor felt that sting: a longing for the work +he had rejected stirred in him—a wistful recollection of the +sympathy he had not sought.</p> + +<p>And if in future years any traveller, if travellers still +fall upon adventures, should light upon a remote parsonage +in which an elderly embarrassed Rector, with a mild wife +in dove-coloured dresses, toils painfully after his duty, +more and more giving his heart to it, more and more finding +difficult expression for the unused faculty, let him be +sure that it is the late Rector of Carlingford, self-expelled +out of the uneasy paradise, setting forth untimely, yet not +too late, into the laborious world.</p> + +<p> </p> +<hr class="narrow" /> + +<h4><span class="smallcaps">the end.</span></h4> + +<h6>PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH.</h6> + +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<table class="sm" border="0" style="background-color: #E6E6FA; margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="TN"> +<tr> +<td> + <div class="center">TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE</div> + +<p class="noindent" style="background-color: #E6E6FA"> +Contemporary spellings have been retained even +when inconsistent or unusual. A small number of obvious typographical errors have been +corrected, and missing punctuation has been silently added.</p> +<p class="noindent"><i>The Rector</i> was originally published together +with <i>The Doctor's Family</i> in one volume.</p></td></tr> +</table> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rector, by Mrs. (Margaret) Oliphant + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RECTOR *** + +***** This file should be named 29891-h.htm or 29891-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/8/9/29891/ + +Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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