"God, that feeds the young ravens, will take care of me also," said Mr
Harding, with a smile, as though afraid of giving offence by making
his reference to scripture too solemn.
"Pish!" said the archdeacon, turning away rapidly. "If the ravens
persisted in refusing the food prepared for them, they wouldn't be
fed." A clergyman generally dislikes to be met in argument by any
scriptural quotation; he feels as affronted as a doctor does, when
recommended by an old woman to take some favourite dose, or as a
lawyer when an unprofessional man attempts to put him down by a
quibble.
"I shall have the living of Crabtree," modestly suggested the warden.
"Eighty pounds a year!" sneered the archdeacon.
"And the precentorship," said the father-in-law.
"It goes with the wardenship," said the son-in-law. Mr Harding was
prepared to argue this point, and began to do so, but Dr Grantly
stopped him. "My dear warden," said he, "this is all nonsense.
Eighty pounds or a hundred and sixty makes very little difference.
You can't live on it,--you can't ruin Eleanor's prospects for ever.
In point of fact, you can't resign; the bishop wouldn't accept it;
the whole thing is settled. What I now want to do is to prevent any
inconvenient tittle-tattle,--any more newspaper articles."
"That's what I want, too," said the warden.
"And to prevent that," continued the other, "we mustn't let any talk
of resignation get abroad."
"But I shall resign," said the warden, very, very meekly.
"Good heavens! Susan, my dear, what can I say to him?"
"But, papa," said Mrs Grantly, getting up, and putting her arm through
that of her father, "what is Eleanor to do if you throw away your
income?"
A hot tear stood in each of the warden's eyes as he looked round upon
his married daughter. Why should one sister who was so rich predict
poverty for another? Some such idea as this was on his mind, but he
gave no utterance to it. Then he thought of the pelican feeding its
young with blood from its own breast, but he gave no utterance to
that either; and then of Eleanor waiting for him at home, waiting to
congratulate him on the end of all his trouble.
"Think of Eleanor, papa," said Mrs Grantly.
"I do think of her," said her father.
"And you will not do this rash thing?" The lady was really moved
beyond her usual calm composure.
"It can never be rash to do right," said he. "I shall certainly
resign this wardenship."
"Then, Mr Harding, there is nothing before you but ruin," said the
archdeacon, now moved beyond all endurance. "Ruin both for you and
Eleanor. How do you mean to pay the monstrous expenses of this
action?"
Mrs Grantly suggested that, as the action was abandoned, the costs
would not be heavy.
"Indeed they will, my dear," continued he. "One cannot have the
attorney-general up at twelve o'clock at night for nothing;--but of
course your father has not thought of this."
"I will sell my furniture," said the warden.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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