Within the Maze: A Novel, Vol. 2 (of 2)Wood, Henry, Mrs.
General
Within the Maze: A Novel, Vol. 2 (of 2)
Wood, Henry, Mrs.
English fiction -- 19th century
The circumstance to which he alluded was this. A day or two before,
some prying boys, comrades of Tom Pepp's, were about St. Jerome's as
usual. For, ever since its establishment, the place had been quite a
point of attraction to these young reptiles; and keep off they would
not. On the morning in question, hovering around the vestry window and
the walls generally, a slight inlet of view was discovered, in
consequence of the blinds being accidentally drawn somewhat aside. Of
course as many eyes were applied to the chink as could find space; and
they had the pleasure of seeing the parson steal a kiss or two from
the blushing cheek of Miss Jemima Moore. Rare nuts for the boys to
crack! Before the day had closed, it was being talked of in Foxwood,
and reached the ears of Miss Diana. She handed the case over to the
doctor.
Down he went to St. Jerome's on the following morning, and caught Mr.
Cattacomb alone in the vestry, just getting into his sheep-skin. Mr.
Moore wasted no time in circumlocution or superfluous greeting.
"You were seen to kiss my daughter, yesterday, young man."
To be pounced upon in this unprepared manner is enough to try the
nerves of almost any hero; what must it have been then for a modest
young clergyman, with a character for holiness, like Guy Cattacomb? He
stammered and stuttered, and blushed to the very roots of his scanty
hair. The tippet itself turned of a rosy hue.
"No equivocation, sir. Do you acknowledge it, or do you not?"
Gathering up his scared wits, and a modicum of courage, in the best
way he could, the Reverend Guy virtually acknowledged it to be true.
He added that he and Miss Jemima were seriously attached to each
other; that he hoped sometime to win her for his wife; and that a
sense of his utter want of means had alone prevented his speaking to
the doctor.
"Now, look here," said the surgeon, after a pause of consideration,
perceiving from the young man's earnest manner that this was the
actual state of the case, "I say _No_ to you at present. It lies with
yourself whether I ever say yes. If you and she care for one another,
I should be the last to stand in your way, once you have proved
yourself worthy of her. Get rid of all the rubbish that's filling up
your foolish brain;"--and he gave his hand a sweep around--"become a
faithful, honest clergyman of the Church of England, serving your
Master to the best of your power; and then you may ask for her. A
daughter of mine shall never tie herself to a vain fop. No; though I
had to banish her to the wilds of Kamschatka."
"I'll do my best, sir, to become what you will approve of," returned
the parson humbly, "if you will only give me hope of Miss Jemima."
"It is because I think you have some good in you, that I do give you
hope, Mr. Cattacomb. The issue lies with you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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