_ The interview, like all other good things had to come to an end; the
days were short, and Mrs Allaby had a six miles' drive to
Crampsford. When she was muffled up and had taken her seat, Mr
Allaby's factotum, James, could perceive no change in her
appearance, and little knew what a series of delightful visions he
was driving home along with his mistress.
Professor Cowey had published works through Theobald's father, and
Theobald had on this account been taken in tow by Mrs Cowey from the
beginning of his University career. She had had her eye upon him
for some time past, and almost as much felt it her duty to get him
off her list of young men for whom wives had to be provided, as poor
Mrs Allaby did to try and get a husband for one of her daughters.
She now wrote and asked him to come and see her, in terms that
awakened his curiosity. When he came she broached the subject of Mr
Allaby's failing health, and after the smoothing away of such
difficulties as were only Mrs Cowey's due, considering the interest
she had taken, it was allowed to come to pass that Theobald should
go to Crampsford for six successive Sundays and take the half of Mr
Allaby's duty at half a guinea a Sunday, for Mrs Cowey cut down the
usual stipend mercilessly, and Theobald was not strong enough to
resist.
Ignorant of the plots which were being prepared for his peace of
mind and with no idea beyond that of earning his three guineas, and
perhaps of astonishing the inhabitants of Crampsford by his academic
learning, Theobald walked over to the Rectory one Sunday morning
early in December--a few weeks only after he had been ordained. He
had taken a great deal of pains with his sermon, which was on the
subject of geology--then coming to the fore as a theological
bugbear. He showed that so far as geology was worth anything at
all--and he was too liberal entirely to pooh-pooh it--it confirmed
the absolutely historical character of the Mosaic account of the
Creation as given in Genesis. Any phenomena which at first sight
appeared to make against this view were only partial phenomena and
broke down upon investigation. Nothing could be in more excellent
taste, and when Theobald adjourned to the rectory, where he was to
dine between the services, Mr Allaby complimented him warmly upon
his debut, while the ladies of the family could hardly find words
with which to express their admiration.
Theobald knew nothing about women. The only women he had been
thrown in contact with were his sisters, two of whom were always
correcting him, and a few school friends whom these had got their
father to ask to Elmhurst. These young ladies had either been so
shy that they and Theobald had never amalgamated, or they had been
supposed to be clever and had said smart things to him. He did not
say smart things himself and did not want other people to say them.
Besides, they talked about music--and he hated music--or pictures--
and he hated pictures--or books--and except the classics he hated
books. And then sometimes he was wanted to dance with them, and he
did not know how to dance, and did not want to know.
At Mrs Cowey's parties again he had seen some young ladies and had
been introduced to them. He had tried to make himself agreeable,
but was always left with the impression that he had not been
successful. The young ladies of Mrs Cowey's set were by no means
the most attractive that might have been found in the University,
and Theobald may be excused for not losing his heart to the greater
number of them, while if for a minute or two he was thrown in with
one of the prettier and more agreeable girls he was almost
immediately cut out by someone less bashful than himself, and
sneaked off, feeling as far as the fair sex was concerned, like the
impotent man at the pool of Bethesda.
What a really nice girl might have done with him I cannot tell, but
fate had thrown none such in his way except his youngest sister
Alethea, whom he might perhaps have liked if she had not been his
sister. The result of his experience was that women had never done
him any good and he was not accustomed to associate them with any
pleasure; if there was a part of Hamlet in connection with them it
had been so completely cut out in the edition of the play in which
he was required to act that he had come to disbelieve in its
existence. As for kissing, he had never kissed a woman in his life
except his sister--and my own sisters when we were all small
children together. Over and above these kisses, he had until quite
lately been required to imprint a solemn flabby kiss night and
morning upon his father's cheek, and this, to the best of my belief,
was the extent of Theobald's knowledge in the matter of kissing, at
the time of which I am now writing. The result of the foregoing was
that he had come to dislike women, as mysterious beings whose ways
were not as his ways, nor their thoughts as his thoughts.
With these antecedents Theobald naturally felt rather bashful on
finding himself the admired of five strange young ladies. I
remember when I was a boy myself I was once asked to take tea at a
girls' school where one of my sisters was boarding. I was then
about twelve years old. Everything went off well during tea-time,
for the Lady Principal of the establishment was present. But there
came a time when she went away and I was left alone with the girls.
The moment the mistress's back was turned the head girl, who was
about my own age, came up, pointed her finger at me, made a face and
said solemnly, "A na-a-sty bo-o-y!" All the girls followed her in
rotation making the same gesture and the same reproach upon my being
a boy. It gave me a great scare. I believe I cried, and I know it
was a long time before I could again face a girl without a strong
desire to run away.
Theobald felt at first much as I had myself done at the girls'
school, but the Miss Allabys did not tell him he was a nasty bo-o-
oy. Their papa and mamma were so cordial and they themselves lifted
him so deftly over conversational stiles that before dinner was over
Theobald thought the family to be a really very charming one, and
felt as though he were being appreciated in a way to which he had
not hitherto been accustomed.
With dinner his shyness wore off. He was by no means plain, his
academic prestige was very fair. There was nothing about him to lay
hold of as unconventional or ridiculous; the impression he created
upon the young ladies was quite as favourable as that which they had
created upon himself; for they knew not much more about men than he
about women.
As soon as he was gone, the harmony of the establishment was broken
by a storm which arose upon the question which of them it should be
who should become Mrs Pontifex. "My dears," said their father, when
he saw that they did not seem likely to settle the matter among
themselves, "Wait till to-morrow, and then play at cards for him."
Having said which he retired to his study, where he took a nightly
glass of whisky and a pipe of tobacco. _