The Minister's Charge; Or, The Apprenticeship of Lemuel BarkerHowells, William Dean
General
The Minister's Charge; Or, The Apprenticeship of Lemuel Barker
Howells, William Dean
Boston (Mass.) -- Fiction; Clergy -- Fiction; Poets -- Fiction
The week of probation had passed without interrupting their relation,
and Lemuel was regularly installed, and began to lead a life which was
so cut off from his past in most things that it seemed to belie it. He
found himself dropped in the midst of luxury stranger to him than the
things they read of in those innumerable novels. The dull, rich colours
in the walls, and the heavily rugged floors and dark-wooded leathern
seats of the library where he read to the old man; the beautiful forms
of the famous bronzes, and the Italian saints and martyrs in their
baroque or Gothic frames of dim gold; the low shelves with their ranks
of luxurious bindings, and all the seriously elegant keeping of the
place, flattered him out of his strangeness; and the footing on which
he was received in this house, the low-voiced respect with which the
man-servant treated him, the master's light, cordial frankness,
the distant graciousness of the mistress, and the unembarrassed,
unembarrassing kindliness of the young ladies, both so much older than
himself, contributed to an effect that afterwards deepened more and
more, and became a vital part of the struggle which he was finally to
hold with himself. The first two or three days he saw no one but Mr.
Corey, and but for the women's voices in the other parts of the house,
he might have supposed himself in another bachelor's apartments, finer
and grander than Bellingham's. He was presented to Mrs. Corey when she
came into the library, but he did not see the daughters of the house
till he was installed in it. After that, his acquaintance with them
seemed to go no further. They were all polite and kind when they met
him, in the library or on the stairs, but they showed no curiosity about
him; and his never meeting them at table helped to keep him a
stranger to them under the same roof. He ate at a boarding-house in a
neighbouring street, but he slept at the Coreys' after he had read their
father asleep, and then, going out to his late breakfast, he did not
return till Mr. Corey had eaten his own, much later.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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