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When Tristram went, according to custom, into the Rector's study for a talk after dinner, the door was hardly shut behind them before Mr. Grenville said:

"I had a feeling this afternoon, when it was too late, that I interrupted you with Horatia at an unfortunate moment."

"No, Sir," replied the young man. "I think, on the contrary, that you saved me from making a blunder. One shock is enough for one afternoon."

"Ah," said Mr. Grenville, making his way towards his favourite chair. "You have told her then that you mean to take Orders?"

"I told her that I had practically made up my mind to do so."

"And what did she say?"

"I gathered that she wasn't surprised, and that she wasn't altogether pleased," returned Tristram with half a smile.

"She is out of sympathy with your views," commented the Rector, tapping with his foot. "And of course, as you know, I deplore extremes myself. But in time you would settle down. Still, I know quite well Horatia's dislike to what seem to be the growing views of the Oriel Common Room, and she appears to me to be quite unable to discuss the matter on its merits. She always says, 'Papa, dear, I do dislike Mr. Dormer so much, and I'm not fond of any of those Oriel people. I cannot understand what Tristram sees in them.' But I'll tell you what I think, my boy," concluded the Rector mysteriously, "and that is, this dislike is a very hopeful sign."

"Why?" asked Tristram with gloom.

"Well, to begin with, Horatia, unlike most women, can generally discuss a subject impersonally, but in this matter she makes a personal application, and she always attacks your friend Dormer, when she might just as well select Mr. Newman or Mr. Froude. Why? Because I verily believe she is jealous of him!" And the Honourable and Reverend Stephen Grenville sat back in his chair to make the full effect of his words.

"You don't really think that she cares – that she could ever...?"

"I don't know, my dear boy; I can't say. Perhaps I oughtn't to raise your hopes. Horatia is a very extraordinary young woman. Sometimes I blame myself; I blame myself very severely. I gave her an education out of the common."

"You did everything that was right," interjected Tristram.

"I hope so, Tristram, I hope so. Did I ever tell you that her aunt once assured me she would either die an old maid or make a fool of herself? Well, I did my best. Your mother, Tristram, was very fond of my girl, and she told me more than once that she believed she had the makings of a fine woman. If she had been here now, she would have advised us; for I can't help feeling that we are at a parting of the ways. If we had had her help these last few years it might have been different. I have thought that you made a mistake in not trying again when you came back from abroad. Persistence sometimes works wonders."

"I cannot bear the idea of pestering a girl until she accepts an offer out of sheer weariness," said Tristram with some heat.

"No, I know, and I respect you, my dear fellow," said the Rector, looking at him affectionately. Continuing to look at him, he went on: "Of course, too, I have doubted whether I have been right to allow you to see so much of her. But sometimes I thought you were getting over it, and Horatia is so entirely at her ease with you that I feared to interrupt a friendship which I always hoped might become something else. But I believe it has been a strain on you, Tristram. I can see it all now, and it must not go on. It is not fair to you. How long is it since she refused you?"

"Five years. I asked her in 1825, the summer before my mother died."

"Well, well," said the Rector, sighing gently, "the sooner you try your luck again the better. The child strikes me as unsettled, and a little depressed perhaps. Anyhow, for your own sake, I do not think you ought to wait. I could wish that this young friend of yours were not coming, for it means that nothing can be done for a week or two. However, there is the autumn before you, and if Horatia won't have you, you will soon be taking Orders and wanting to settle down, and perhaps you will see someone else. You are not the sort of man to have to wait long for a living, and you will be lonely without a wife. If my girl is so foolish as to refuse you again, well – – "

Tristram shook his head. "There is no 'well,' Mr. Grenville. It is Horatia or nobody for me."

The Vision Splendid (D. K. Broster) (Literary Thoughts Edition)

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