'He knows better than that,' said Sol. 'But he'll never believe that Berta didn't lay a trap for the old fellow. He thinks at this moment that Lord Mountclere has never been told of us and our belongings.'
'I wonder if she has deceived him in anything,' murmured Chickerel.
'I can hardly suppose it. But she is altogether beyond me.
However, if she has misled him on any point she will suffer for it.'
'You need not fear that, father. It isn't her way of working. Why couldn't she have known that when a title is to be had for the asking, the owner must be a shocking one indeed?'
'The title is well enough. Any poor scrubs in our place must be fools not to think the match a very rare and astonishing honour, as far as the position goes. But that my brave girl will be miserable is a part of the honour I can't stomach so well. If he had been any other lord in the kingdom, we might have been merry indeed. Ibelieve he will ruin her happiness--yes, I do--not by any personal snubbing or rough conduct, but by other things, causing her to be despised; and that is a thing she can't endure.'
'She's not to be despised without a deal of trouble--we must remember that. And if he insults her by introducing new favourites, as they say he did his first wife, I'll call upon him and ask his meaning, and take her away.'
'Nonsense--we shall never know what he does, or how she feels; she will never let out a word. However unhappy she may be, she will always deny it--that's the unfortunate part of such marriages.'
'An old chap like that ought to leave young women alone, damn him!'
The clerk came nearer. 'I am afraid I cannot allow bad words to be spoke in this sacred pile,' he said. 'As far as my personal self goes, I should have no objection to your cussing as much as you like, but as a official of the church my conscience won't allow it to be done.'
'Your conscience has allowed something to be done that cussing and swearing are godly worship to.'
'The prettiest maid is left out of harness, however,' said the clerk. 'The little witness was the chicken to my taste--Lord forgive me for saying it, and a man with a wife and family!'
Sol and his father turned to withdraw, and soon forgot the remark, but it was frequently recalled by Christopher.
'Do you think of trying to see Ethelberta before you leave?' said Sol.
'Certainly not,' said Chickerel. 'Mr. Mountclere's advice was good in that. The more we keep out of the way the more good we are doing her. I shall go back to Anglebury by the carrier, and get on at once to London. You will go with me, I suppose?'
'The carrier does not leave yet for an hour or two.'
'I shall walk on, and let him overtake me. If possible, I will get one glimpse of Enckworth Court, Berta's new home; there may be time, if I start at once.'
'I will walk with you,' said Sol.
'There is room for one with me,' said Christopher. 'I shall drive back early in the afternoon.'
'Thank you,' said Sol. 'I will endeavour to meet you at Corvsgate.'
Thus it was arranged. Chickerel could have wished to search for Picotee, and learn from her the details of this mysterious matter.
But it was particularly painful to him to make himself busy after the event; and to appear suddenly and uselessly where he was plainly not wanted to appear would be an awkwardness which the pleasure of seeing either daughter could scarcely counterbalance. Hence he had resolved to return at once to town, and there await the news, together with the detailed directions as to his own future movements, carefully considered and laid down, which were sure to be given by the far-seeing Ethelberta.
Sol and his father walked on together, Chickerel to meet the carrier just beyond Enckworth, Sol to wait for Christopher at Corvsgate.
His wish to see, in company with his father, the outline of the seat to which Ethelberta had been advanced that day, was the triumph of youthful curiosity and interest over dogged objection. His father's wish was based on calmer reasons.
Christopher, lone and out of place, remained in the church yet a little longer. He desultorily walked round. Reaching the organ chamber, he looked at the instrument, and was surprised to find behind it a young man. Julian first thought him to be the organist;on second inspection, however, he proved to be a person Christopher had met before, under far different circumstances; it was our young friend Ladywell, looking as sick and sorry as a lily with a slug in its stalk.
The occasion, the place, and their own condition, made them kin.
Christopher had despised Ladywell, Ladywell had disliked Christopher; but a third item neutralized the other two--it was their common lot.
Christopher just nodded, for they had only met on Ethelberta's stairs. Ladywell nodded more, and spoke. 'The church appears to be interesting,' he said.
'Yes. Such a tower is rare in England,' said Christopher.
They then dwelt on other features of the building, thence enlarging to the village, and then to the rocks and marine scenery, both avoiding the malady they suffered from--the marriage of Ethelberta.
'The village streets are very picturesque, and the cliff scenery is good of its kind,' rejoined Ladywell. 'The rocks represent the feminine side of grandeur. Here they are white, with delicate tops.
On the west coast they are higher, black, and with angular summits.
Those represent grandeur in its masculine aspect. It is merely my own idea, and not very bright, perhaps.'
'It is very ingenious,' said Christopher, 'and perfectly true.'
Ladywell was pleased. 'I am here at present making sketches for my next subject--a winter sea. Otherwise I should not have--happened to be in the church.'
'You are acquainted with Mrs. Petherwin--I think you are Mr.
Ladywell, who painted her portrait last season?'
'Yes,' said Ladywell, colouring.
'You may have heard her speak of Mr. Julian?'
'O yes,' said Ladywell, offering his hand. Then by degrees their tongues wound closer round the subject of their sadness, each tacitly owning to what he would not tell.
'I saw it,' said Ladywell heavily.
