Читать книгу The Vision Splendid (D. K. Broster) (Literary Thoughts Edition) - D. K. Broster - Страница 7

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"Papa has really no right to be hungry," observed Miss Grenville as they sat down to table. "Saturday, you know, was our annual village feast, and he acknowledges that he is obliged to eat a great deal on that occasion."

"How did it go off, Rector?" asked the guest.

"Oh, quite successfully," replied Mr. Grenville, carving a leg of mutton. "There was a good deal to eat, I must admit. I left, as I always do, before the dancing; but not before I heard a swain (I think it was one of Farmer Wilson's men) assuring his inamorata that he would kiss her if she wished it."

"The lady seems to have been forward," observed Horatia. "Papa, you are not forgetting the plate of meat for old Mrs. Jenkins? You know you promised to send in her dinner while she is ill."

"No, my dear," returned her father, looking round. "I have not forgotten the meat, but Sarah appears to have forgotten the plates."

The handmaid fled and remedied her error. It was no unusual thing for the Rectory crockery to go voyaging in the cause of charity.

Horatia seemed in high though rather fitful spirits. She amused her hearers with an account of her visits. At one house, she affirmed, she was entertained to death; at the other her host and hostess only seemed to want to be alone together, though they had pestered her to go there.

"You will find us, as usual, very quiet," said Tristram, looking across the table at her animated face. "I don't think anything has happened since you went away. – Stay, though, something has taken place in Oxfordshire. Rector, I suppose you have heard about the affair at Otmoor on Saturday night?"

Mr. Grenville had not.

"Well, Otmoor, as you know, was drained under Act of Parliament in 1815, and this proceeding has been a cause of discontent ever since, because the embankments were thought to prevent the water draining away from the land above. You remember the disturbances last June, and how the farmers cut the banks, and were indicted for felony, but acquitted on the ground that the embankments did do damage and were a nuisance?"

"Yes, I recall the circumstance," said the Rector.

"Well, the Otmoor people appear to have jumped to the conclusion that the Act of Parliament was void, the enclosure of Otmoor consequently illegal, and that they had a right to pull down the embankment. On Saturday night, therefore, they started to do so, and I believe they proceeded with the work last night also. They are said to have been riotous. I wonder you had not heard of it."

"Dear, dear," commented the Rector, "that is excessively serious! I am afraid that there is indeed a spirit of unrest abroad at present. There have been one or two rick fires lately that looked to me very suspicious, very. And then there was that barn near Henley about a fortnight ago."

"Do you think, then, that we shall have a revolution in England like the Days of July?" asked Horatia a little mischievously.

"No, of course not, my dear! The Revolution in France the other day was above all things dynastic – at least, so I read it – and no one wants to turn out our new King, whom God preserve. But there is social unrest..."

"Good Heavens!" suddenly exclaimed Tristram Hungerford. "I had quite forgotten, and your mentioning the Days of July has reminded me. I've got a Frenchman, a Legitimist, coming to stay with me the day after to-morrow. You remember how, when I was in Paris a few years ago, I made the acquaintance of the sons of the Duc de la Roche-Guyon, the First Gentleman of the Bedchamber? I stayed with the eldest at their place in the country for a few days, and I asked them to come and see me if ever they were in England."

"But the Duc de la Roche-Guyon accompanied Charles the Tenth on his flight over here, and is now with him at Lulworth, is he not?" asked Horatia. "I remember seeing his name in the papers."

"Yes," said Tristram, "the Duc is at Lulworth with the King, and Armand, his younger and favourite son, has come over to pay him a visit. But I fancy that the young gentleman has no intention of remaining buried in Dorset; Lulworth is too dull for a person of his tastes, and he is returning to more congenial scenes in Paris – even though it be an Orleanist Paris. However, he has written from Dorset and suggested paying me a short visit. I own that I am rather surprised, for I am afraid that my chances of amusing him are not greater than those of his exiled sovereign. Moreover, I really hardly know him. It was his elder brother, the Marquis Emmanuel, of whom I saw more.... May I bring the youth here to call?"

"Do," said Miss Grenville. "Papa, did you know that Tristram considered us a centre of gaiety? It is a flattering but a burdensome reputation. If anyone expects me to sparkle I am tongue-tied on the instant. I had better ask the Miss Baileys to come in."

"My dear," said the Rector impressively, "I beg you will do nothing of the sort. I cannot endure those young persons."

"I know it," replied his daughter. – "But, Tristram, it is a good thing that Mr. Dormer has left you. It is well known, is it not, that you may not have other guests when he is with you?"

A very slight colour came into Mr. Hungerford's face, and the Rector said rather quickly, "Is Mr. Dormer going to be in college till term begins?"

"Yes," answered the young man. "It is quieter for him, and he is very anxious to finish his book on the Non-Jurors. All the worry last term with the Provost – though, not being a tutor, he was not actually implicated – put him back in his work."

"I have no sympathy with Mr. Dormer's sufferings," declared Horatia. "You have told me before now, Tristram, that he has very high views about the authority of the Church. Why doesn't he have high views about the authority of the Provost?"

"But, Horatia," said Tristram earnestly, "don't you see that it was a matter of conscience? Newman and Wilberforce and Froude could not without a protest see their chances of influencing their pupils vanish, and themselves reduced to mere tutoring machines. If Keble had been elected Provost instead of Hawkins, the situation would never have arisen. Now they will have no more pupils after next year; and, as an Oriel man, I can't help thinking that it will be Oriel's loss."

"Don't argue with her, Tristram," said the Rector. "She is only teasing you."

"Not at all," returned Horatia. "My sympathies are with the Provost; and so are yours, Papa. Speak up now, and tell the truth. Did your tutor at Christ Church consider himself responsible for your soul?"

"Well, no, I can't say that he did," admitted Mr. Grenville, remembering that port-drinking divine.

"There you are!" exclaimed his daughter. "And look at the result; could it be better? Now these Oriel people want to make their pupils into horrid prigs, and all the parents in England ought to be grateful to the Provost for preventing it."

"Horatia," said the Rector, "this levity is not at all becoming. I don't myself agree entirely with either side. I have a great respect for the Provost, and at the same time I admire the spirit and high sense of duty of your friends, Tristram. Mr. Keble is of their opinion, and although I cannot go as far as he does, I am bound to say that the Christian Year seems to me to combine sound scholarship with a proper appreciation of our historic Church. Yes, they are good men, and I am sorry they have been defeated."

"And I," remarked Horatia impenitently, "am looking forward to seeing each with his one ewe lamb. How they will cherish their last pupil!"