Mr.Blackthorne had only been ordained three or four years, and was a little younger, and much less experienced in the ways of the world, than Sigismund Zaluski.He was a good well-meaning fellow, a little narrow, a little prejudiced, a little spoiled by the devotion of the district visitors and Sunday School teachers; but he was honest and energetic, and as a worker among the poor few could have equalled him.He seemed to fancy, however, that with the poor his work ended, and he was not always so wise as he might have been in Muddleton society.
"Good afternoon, Miss Houghton," he exclaimed."Do you happen to know if your brother is at home? I want just to speak to him about the choir treat.""Oh, he is sure to be in by this time," said Lena.And they walked home together.
"I am so glad to have this chance of speaking to you," she began rather nervously."I wanted particularly to ask your advice."Mr.Blackthorne, being human and young, was not unnaturally flattered by this remark.True, he was becoming well accustomed to this sort of thing, since the ladies of Muddleton were far more fond of seeking advice from the young and good-looking curate than from the elderly and experienced rector.They said it was because Mr.Blackthorne was so much more sympathetic, and understood the difficulties of the day so much better; but I think they unconsciously deceived themselves, for the rector was one of a thousand, and the curate, though he had in him the makings of a fine man, was as yet altogether crude and young.
"Was it about anything in your district?" he asked, devoutly hoping that she was not going to propound some difficult question about the origin of evil, or any other obscure subject.For though he liked the honour of being consulted, he did not always like the trouble it involved, and he remembered with a shudder that Miss Houghton had once asked him his opinion about the 'Ethical Concept of the Good.'
"It was only that I was so troubled about something Mrs.O'Reilly has just told me," said Lena Houghton."You won't tell any one that I toldyou?"
"On no account," said the curate, warmly.
"Well, you know Mr.Zaluski, and how the Morleys have taken him up?""Every one has taken him up," said the curate, with the least little touch of resentment in his tone."I knew that the Morleys were his special friends; I imagine that he admires Miss Morley.""Yes, every one thinks they are either engaged or on the brink of it.And oh, Mr.Blackthorne, can't you or somebody put a stop to it, for it seems such a dreadful fate for poor Gertrude?"The curate looked startled.
"Why, I don't profess to like Mr.Zaluski," he said."But I don't know anything exactly against him.""But I do.Mrs.O'Reilly has just been telling me." "What did she tell you?" he asked with some curiosity.
"Why, she has found out that he is really a Nihilist--just think of a Nihilist going about loose like this, and playing tennis at the rectory and all the good houses! And not only that, but she says he is altogether a dangerous, unprincipled man with a dreadful temper.You can't think how unhappy she is about poor Gertrude, and so am I, for we were at school together and have always been friends.""I am very sorry to hear about it," said Mr.Blackthorne, "but I don't see that anything can be done.You see, one does not like to interfere in these sort of things.It seems officious rather, and meddlesome.""Yes, that is the worst of it," she replied, with a sigh."I suppose we can do nothing.Still, it has been a great relief just to tell you about it and get it off my mind.I suppose we can only hope that something may put a stop to it all--we must just leave it to chance."This sentiment amused me not a little.Leave it to chance indeed! Had she not caused me to grow stronger and larger by every word she uttered? And had not the conversation revealed to me Mr.Blackthorn's one vulnerable part? I knew well enough that I should be able to dominate his thoughts as I had done hers.Finding me burdensome, she had passed me on to somebody else with additions that vastly increasedmy working powers, and then she talked of leaving it to chance! The way in which mortals practise pious frauds on themselves is really delightful! And yet Lena Houghton was a good sort of girl, and had from her childhood repeated the catechism words which proclaim that, "My duty to my neighbour is to love him as myself...To keep my tongue from evil-speaking, lying, and slandering." What is more, she took great pains to teach these words to a big class of Sunday School children, and went, rain or shine, to spend two hours each Sunday in a stuffy school- room for that purpose.It was strange that she should be so ready to believe evil of her neighbour, and so eager to spread the story.But my progenitor is clever, and doubtless knows very well, whom to select as his tools.
By this time they had reached a comfortable-looking, red-brick house with white stone facings, and in the discussion of the arrangements for the choir treat I was entirely forgotten.
