It was a bright clear morning, though in November, that Mr Harding and Mr Quiverful, arm in arm, walked through the hospital gate. It was one trait in our old friend's character that he did nothing with parade. He omitted, even in the more important doings of his life, that sort of parade by which most of us deem it necessary to grace our important doings. We have housewarmings, christenings, and gala days; we keep, if not our own birthdays, those of our children; we are apt to fuss ourselves, if called upon to change our residences, and have, almost all of us, our little state occasions. Mr Harding, had no state occasions. When he left his old house, he went forth from it with the same quiet composure as though he were merely taking his daily walk; and now that he re-entered it with another warden under his wing, he did so with the same quiet step and calm demeanour. He was a little less upright than he had been five years, nay, it was nearly six years ago; he walked perhaps a little slower; his footfall was perhaps a thought less firm; otherwise one might have same that he was merely returning with a friend under his arm.
This friendliness was everything to Mr Quiverful. To him, even in his poverty, the thought that he was supplanting a brother clergyman so kind and courteous as Mr Harding, had been very bitter. Under his circumstances it had been impossible for him to refuse the proffered boon; he could not reject the bread that was offered to his children, or refuse to ease the heavy burden that had so long oppressed that poor wife of his; nevertheless, it had been very grievous to him to think that in going to the hospital he might encounter the ill will of his brethren in the diocese. All this Mr Harding had fully comprehended. It was for such feelings as these, for the nice comprehension of such motives, that his heart and intellect were peculiarly fitted. In most matters of worldly import the archdeacon set down his father-in-law as little better than a fool. And perhaps he was right. But in some other matters, equally important if they be rightly judged, Mr Harding, had he been so minded, might with as much propriety have set down his son-in-law for a fool. Few men, however, are constituted as was Mr Harding. He had that nice appreciation of the feelings of others which belongs of right exclusively to women.
Arm in arm they walked into the inner quadrangle of the building, and there the five old men met them. Mr Harding shook hands with them all, and then Mr Quiverful did the same. With Bunce Mr Harding shook hands twice, and Mr Quiverful was about to repeat the ceremony but the old man gave him no encouragement.
'I am very glad to know that at last you have a new warden,' said Mr Harding in a very cheery voice.
'We be very old for any change,' said one of them; 'but we do suppose it be all for the best.'
'Certainly--certainly, it is for the best,' said Mr Harding. 'You will again have a clergyman of your own church under the same roof with you, and a very excellent clergyman you will have. It is a great satisfaction to me to know that so good a man is coming to take care of you, and that it is no stranger, but a friend of my own, who will allow me from time to time to come in and see you.'
'We be thankful to your reverence,' said another of them.
'I need not tell you, my good friends,' said Mr Quiverful, 'how extremely grateful I am to Mr Harding for his kindness to me,--Imust say his uncalled for, his unexpected kindness.'
'He be always very kind,' said a third.
'What I can do to fill the void which he left here, I will do. For your sake and my own I will do so, and especially for his sake. But to you who have known him, I can never be the same well-loved friend and father that he has been.'
'No, no, sir,' said old Bunce, who hitherto had held his peace; 'no one can be that. Not if the new bishop sent a hangel to us from heaven. We doesn't doubt you'll do your best, sir, but you'll not be like the old master; not to us old ones.'
'Fie, Bunce, fie! how dare you talk in that way!' said Mr Harding;but as he scolded the old man he still held him by his arm, and pressed it with warm affection.
There was no getting any enthusiasm in the matter. How could five old men tottering away to their final resting-place be enthusiastic on the reception of a stranger? What could Mr Quiverful be to them, or they to Mr Quiverful? Had Mr Harding indeed come back to them, some last flicker of joyous light might have shone forth on their aged cheeks; but it was in vain to bid them rejoice because Mr Quiverful was about to move his fourteen children from Puddingdale into the hospital house. In reality they did no doubt receive advantage, spiritual as well as corporal; but this they could neither anticipate nor acknowledge.
It was a dull affair enough, this introduction of Mr Quiverful; but still it had its effect. The good which Mr Harding intended did not fall to the ground. All the Barchester world, including the five old bedesmen, treated Mr Quiverful with the more respect, because Mr Harding had thus walked in arm in arm with him, on his first entrance to his duties.
And here in their new abode we will leave Mr and Mrs Quiverful and their fourteen children. May they enjoy the good things which Providence has at length given to them!
