Clergy -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
impression on the mind of Carlingford. Most likely it interfered with
the private devotions, from which a few heads popped up abruptly as
she passed; but she was very devout and exemplary in her own person,
and set a good example, as became the clergyman's aunt.
Excitement rose very high in St Roque's when Mr Wentworth came into the
reading-desk, and Elsworthy, black as a cloud, became visible
underneath. The clerk had not ventured to absent himself, nor to send a
substitute in his place. Never, in the days when he was most devoted to
Mr Wentworth, had Elsworthy been more determined to accompany him
through every particular of the service. They had stood together in the
little vestry, going through all the usual preliminaries, the Curate
trying hard to talk as if nothing had happened, the clerk going through
all his duties in total silence. Perhaps there never was a church
service in Carlingford which was followed with such intense interest by
all the eyes and ears of the congregation. When the sermon came, it took
Mr Wentworth's admirers by surprise, though they could not at the moment
make out what it was that puzzled them. Somehow the perverse manner in
which for once the Curate treated that wicked man who is generally made
so much of in sermons, made his hearers slightly ashamed of themselves.
As for Miss Leonora, though she could not approve of his sentiments, the
thought occurred to her that Frank was not nearly so like his mother's
family as she had supposed him to be. When the service was over, she
kept her place, steadily watching all the worshippers out, who thronged
out a great deal more hastily than usual to compare notes, and ask each
other what they thought. "I can't fancy he looks guilty," an eager voice
here and there kept saying over and over. But on the whole, after they
had got over the momentary impression made by his presence and aspect,
the opinion of Carlingford remained unchanged; which was--that,
notwithstanding all the evidence of his previous life, it was quite
believable that Mr Wentworth was a seducer and a villain, and ought to
be brought to condign punishment; but that in the mean time it was very
interesting to watch the progress of this startling little drama; and
that he himself, instead of merely being the Curate of St Roque's, had
become a most captivating enigma, and had made church-going itself half
as good as a play.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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