In Trust: The Story of a Lady and Her LoverOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
In Trust: The Story of a Lady and Her Lover
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Fiction
‘---- And who don’t know the people, nor understand what to do, and what
not to do--it takes a long apprenticeship,’ said Charley, very gravely.
‘You see, an injudicious liberality would be very bad for them--it would
pauperise instead of elevating. It is not everybody that knows what is
good and what is bad in help. People unaccustomed to the kind of life do
more harm than good.’
‘You don’t give me very much encouragement to settle down on my property
and learn how to be a patriarch in my turn,’ said Mountford, with a
laugh.
‘No, I don’t,’ said the Curate, his face growing longer and longer. The
presence of Heathcote Mountford at Mount had smiled upon him for a
moment. It would be better than nothing; it would imply some
companionship, sympathy more or less, someone to take a walk with
occasionally, or to have a talk with, not exclusively parochial; but
when the Curate reflected that Heathcote at Mount would altogether do
away with the likelihood of ‘the family’ coming back--that they could
not rent the house for the summer, which was a hope he had clung to, if
the present owner of it was in possession--Charley at once perceived
that the immediate pleasure of a neighbour would be a fatal advantage,
and with honest simplicity applied himself to the task of subduing his
visitor’s new-born enthusiasm. ‘You see,’ he said, ‘it’s quite different
making a new beginning, knowing nothing about it, from having been born
here, and acquainted with the people all your life.’
‘Everybody must have known, however,’ said Heathcote, slightly piqued,
‘that the property would change hands some time or other, and that great
alterations must be made.’
‘Oh yes, everybody knew that,’ said the Curate, with deadly seriousness;
‘but, you see, when you say a thing must happen some time, you never
know when it will happen, and it is always a shock when it comes. The
old Squire was a hearty man, not at all old for his years. He was not so
old as my father, and I hope _he_ has a great deal of work left in him
yet. And then it was all so sudden; none of us had been able to
familiarise ourselves even with the idea that you were going to succeed,
when in a moment it was all over, and you _had_ succeeded. I don’t mean
to say that we are not very glad to have you,’ said Charley, with a
dubious smile, suddenly perceiving the equivocal civility of all he had
been saying; ‘it is a great deal better than we could have expected.
Knowing them and liking them, you can have so much more sympathy with us
about them. And as you wish them to come back, if that is possible----’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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