Country life -- England -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Families -- Fiction; Mate selection -- Fiction
By that time the effect upon him of their well-meant action might have
been expected to have worn off, and they were ready to talk it all over
in the way he should have been prepared to do when they had first told
him. Really, he looked _quite_ like a Rector already, standing up before
the fire in his silk waist-coat, with a look of self-possession and
dignity that gave them a new idea of him. Perhaps they felt, as they
came in together and saw him standing there, that he was, after all, the
source from which the importance that was still happily to be theirs was
to be drawn, and that the manner in which they had hitherto borne
themselves towards him might have to be altered in some respects.
Rhoda dropped a curtsey, and said: "Homage to the Rector of Surley"; and
Ethel followed suit.
Denis did not smile. "Have you told anybody of the Bishop's offer?" he
said.
Rhoda drew herself together. It was time this rebellious spirit was
crushed. "My dear boy," she said, "if you are still nursing a grievance
at our having opened the Bishop's letter, which, after all, concerns us
as much as it does you, do please get rid of it. It isn't a pretty
spirit. You have already shut yourself up for nearly two hours, in which
we might have been talking of the good thing that has happened; and
surely that is enough."
He repeated his question. "Have you told anybody of the offer?"
"We told nobody," said Ethel, "as the letter was written to you, until
Mr. and Mrs. Mercer called this afternoon. He had got it into his head
that the living had been offered to Mr. Leadbetter, and came over with
no other purpose than to tell us that, and see how we should take it. He
hadn't even told his wife. When he had crowed over us enough, of course
we had to tell him."
"It would have been impossible to have kept it to ourselves without
acting a lie," added Rhoda.
Denis considered this piece of information, and drew away from the fire.
"I'm very sorry you told him," he said, with his face half averted from
them. "I have already written to refuse the Bishop's offer. I don't feel
myself equal yet to the responsibilities of a parish. I want to do some
years' hard work in a town first."
After a pause of consternation and incredulity, both sisters set on him
at once. How could he possibly have made such a decision? It was really
too outrageous. And without giving them the slightest warning! Couldn't
he trust the Bishop to know and do what was right? Why on earth hadn't
he taken their advice before doing such a thing?
All the scandalised surprise came back to that, and it was the first
thing he answered, when the flood of speech showed signs of abating.
"I didn't tell you," he said, "because I didn't think there was any
chance of the offer being made to me, and I wanted to avoid this sort of
discussion."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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