That being Barbara's opinion, it fell to Caroline's lot to entertain the young man again when he came to dine, with Worthing. He was too diffident to join in the general conversation, and was indeed somewhat of a wet-blanket on the cheerful talkative company. Miss Waterhouse exerted herself to talk to him during dinner, but stayed indoors afterwards when the rest of them went out into the garden. Caroline was too kind-natured and sweet-tempered to feel annoyance at having to devote herself to him, instead of joining in a general conversation, but she did think that if he were to be constantly at the house, as he could hardly help being, she had better encourage him to make himself more at home in their company. So she tried to draw him out about himself and had her reward; for he told her all his life's history, and in such a way as to make her like him, and to hope that he would be a welcome addition to their more intimate circle, when he succeeded in throwing off his shyness. His story was simple enough. He was the youngest son of a clergyman, who had three other sons and four daughters. They had been brought up in the country, but when Maurice was fourteen his father had been given a living in a large Midland town. His three elder brothers had obtained scholarships at good schools and afterwards at Oxford or Cambridge, and were doing well, one in the Woods and Forests Department, one as a schoolmaster, and one in journalism. He was the dunce of the family, he told Caroline, and after having been educated at the local Grammar School, he had been given a clerkship, at the age of eighteen, in a local bank. He had always hated it. He had wanted to emigrate and work with his hands, on the land, but his mother had dissuaded him. He was the only son at home, and two of the daughters had also gone out into the world. Finally a legacy had fallen to his father, which had enabled him to give his youngest son a new start in life. He was to learn land agency for a year. If he succeeded in making a living out of it after that time, he would stay in England. Otherwise, he was to be allowed his own way at last, and go out to Canada or Australia. That was all. But he was at the very beginning of his new life now, and all ablaze, under his crust of shyness, with the joy of it. Caroline felt a most friendly sympathy with him. "I'm sure you will get on well if you are as keen as that," she said kindly. "I don't wonder at your hating being tied to an office if you love the country so. I love it too, and everything that goes on in it. And of all places in the world I love Abington. I think you're very lucky to have found Mr. Worthing to learn from, here." CHAPTER XII THE VICAR UNBURDENS HIMSELF