CHAPTER VI.
THE REV. SAMUEL SAUL.
During Harry's absence in London, a circumstance had occurred at therectory which had surprised some of them and annoyed others a gooddeal. Mr. Saul, the curate, had made an offer to Fanny. The Rectorand Fanny declared themselves to be both surprised and annoyed. Thatthe Rector was in truth troubled by the thing was very evident. Mrs.Clavering said that she had almost suspected it,--that she was at anyrate not surprised; as to the offer itself, of course she was sorrythat it should have been made, as it could not suit Fanny to acceptit. Mary was surprised, as she had thought Mr. Saul to be whollyintent on other things; but she could not see any reason why theoffer should be regarded as being on his part unreasonable.
"How can you say so, mamma?" Such had been Fanny's indignantexclamation when Mrs. Clavering had hinted that Mr. Saul's proceedinghad been expected by her.
"Simply because I saw that he liked you, my dear. Men under suchcircumstances have different ways of showing their liking."
Fanny, who had seen all of Mary's love-affair from the beginning tothe end, and who had watched the Reverend Edward Fielding in allhis very conspicuous manoeuvres, would not agree to this. EdwardFielding from the first moment of his intimate acquaintance with Maryhad left no doubt of his intentions on the mind of any one. He hadtalked to Mary and walked with Mary whenever he was allowed or foundit possible to do so. When driven to talk to Fanny, he had alwaystalked about Mary. He had been a lover of the good, old, plainspokenstamp, about whom there had been no mistake. From the first moment ofhis coming much about Clavering Rectory the only question had beenabout his income. "I don't think Mr. Saul ever said a word to meexcept about the poor people and the church-services," said Fanny."That was merely his way," said Mrs. Clavering. "Then he must be agoose," said Fanny. "I am very sorry if I have made him unhappy, buthe had no business to come to me in that way."
"I suppose I shall have to look for another curate," said the Rector.But this was said in private to his wife.
"I don't see that at all," said Mrs. Clavering. "With many men itwould be so; but I think you will find that he will take an answer,and that there will be an end of it."
Fanny, perhaps, had a right to be indignant, for certainly Mr. Saulhad given her no fair warning of his intention. Mary had for somemonths been intent rather on Mr. Fielding's church matters thanon those going on in her own parish, and therefore there had beennothing singular in the fact that Mr. Saul had said more on suchmatters to Fanny than to her sister. Fanny was eager and active, andas Mr. Saul was very eager and very active, it was natural that theyshould have had some interests in common. But there had been noprivate walkings, and no talkings that could properly be calledprivate. There was a certain book which Fanny kept, containing thenames of all the poor people in the parish, to which Mr. Saul hadaccess equally with herself; but its contents were of a most prosaicnature, and when she had sat over it in the rectory drawing-room,with Mr. Saul by her side, striving to extract more than twelvepennies out of charity shillings, she had never thought that it wouldlead to a declaration of love.
He had never called her Fanny in his life,--not up to the momentwhen she declined the honour of becoming Mrs. Saul. The offer itselfwas made in this wise. She had been at the house of old Widow Tubb,half-way between Cumberly Green and the little village of Clavering,striving to make that rheumatic old woman believe that she had notbeen cheated by a general conspiracy of the parish in the matter ofa distribution of coal, when, just as she was about to leave thecottage, Mr. Saul came up. It was then past four, and the evening wasbecoming dark, and there was, moreover, a slight drizzle of rain. Itwas not a tempting evening for a walk of a mile and a half througha very dirty lane; but Fanny Clavering did not care much for suchthings, and was just stepping out into the mud and moisture, with herdress well looped up, when Mr. Saul accosted her.
"I'm afraid you'll be very wet, Miss Clavering."
"That will be better than going without my cup of tea, Mr. Saul,which I should have to do if I stayed any longer with Mrs. Tubb. AndI have got an umbrella."
"But it is so dark and dirty," said he.
"I'm used to that, as you ought to know."
"Yes; I do know it," said he, walking on with her. "I do know thatnothing ever turns you away from the good work."
There was something in the tone of his voice which Fanny did notlike. He had never complimented her before. They had been veryintimate and had often scolded each other. Fanny would accuse him ofexacting too much from the people, and he would retort upon her thatshe coddled them. Fanny would often decline to obey him, and he wouldmake angry hints as to his clerical authority. In this way they hadworked together pleasantly, without any of the awkwardness which onother terms would have arisen between a young man and a young woman.But now that he began to praise her with some peculiar intention ofmeaning in his tone, she was confounded. She had made no immediateanswer to him, but walked on rapidly through the mud and slush.
"You are very constant," said he; "I have not been two years atClavering without finding that out." It was becoming worse and worse.It was not so much his words which provoked her as the tone in whichthey were uttered. And yet she had not the slightest idea of whatwas coming. If, thoroughly admiring her devotion and mistaken as toher character, he were to ask her to become a Protestant nun, orsuggest to her that she should leave her home and go as nurse into ahospital, then there would have occurred the sort of folly of whichshe believed him to be capable. Of the folly which he now committed,she had not believed him to be capable.
It had come on to rain hard, and she held her umbrella low over herhead. He also was walking with an open umbrella in his hand, so thatthey were not very close to each other. Fanny, as she stepped onimpetuously, put her foot into the depth of a pool, and splashedherself thoroughly.
"Oh dear, oh dear," said she; "this is very disagreeable."
"Miss Clavering," said he, "I have been looking for an opportunity tospeak to you, and I do not know when I may find another so suitableas this." She still believed that some proposition was to be made toher which would be disagreeable, and perhaps impertinent,--but itnever occurred to her that Mr. Saul was in want of a wife.
"Doesn't it rain too hard for talking?" she said.
"As I have begun I must go on with it now," he replied, raising hisvoice a little, as though it were necessary that he should do so tomake her hear him through the rain and darkness. She moved a littlefurther away from him with unthinking irritation; but still he wenton with his purpose. "Miss Clavering, I know that I am ill-suited toplay the part of a lover;--very ill suited." Then she gave a startand again splashed herself sadly. "I have never read how it is donein books, and have not allowed my imagination to dwell much on suchthings."
"Mr. Saul, don't go on; pray don't." Now she did understand what wascoming.
"Yes, Miss Clavering, I must go on now; but not on that account wouldI press you to give me an answer to-day. I have learned to love you,and if you can love me in return, I will take you by the hand, andyou shall be my wife. I have found that in you which I have beenunable not to love,--not to covet that I may bind it to myself as myown for ever. Will you think of this, and give me an answer when youhave considered it fully?"
Mr. Saul proposes.]
He had not spoken altogether amiss, and Fanny, though she was veryangry with him, was conscious of this. The time he had chosen mightnot be considered suitable for a declaration of love, nor the place;but having chosen them, he had, perhaps, made the best of them. Therehad been no hesitation in his voice, and his words had been perfectlyaudible.
"Oh, Mr. Saul, of course I can assure you at once," said Fanny."There need not be any consideration. I really have never thought--"Fanny, who knew her own mind on the matter thoroughly, was hardlyable to express herself plainly and without incivility. As soon asthat phrase "of course" had passed her lips, she felt that it shouldnot have been spoken. There was no need that she should insult himby telling him t
hat such a proposition from him could have but oneanswer.
"No, Miss Clavering; I know you have never thought of it, andtherefore it would be well that you should take time. I have not beenable to make manifest to you by little signs, as men do who are lessawkward, all the love that I have felt for you. Indeed, could I havedone so, I should still have hesitated till I had thoroughly resolvedthat I might be better with a wife than without one; and had resolvedalso, as far as that might be possible for me, that you also would bebetter with a husband."
"Mr. Saul, really that should be for me to think of."
"And for me also. Can any man offer to marry a woman,--to bind awoman for life to certain duties, and to so close an obligation,without thinking whether such bonds would be good for her as well asfor himself? Of course you must think for yourself;--and so have Ithought for you. You should think for yourself, and you should thinkalso for me."
Fanny was quite aware that as regarded herself, the matter was onewhich required no more thinking. Mr. Saul was not a man with whom shecould bring herself to be in love. She had her own ideas as to whatwas loveable in men, and the eager curate, splashing through therain by her side, by no means came up to her standard of excellence.She was unconsciously aware that he had altogether mistaken hercharacter, and given her credit for more abnegation of the worldthan she pretended to possess, or was desirous of possessing. FannyClavering was in no hurry to get married. I do not know that shehad even made up her mind that marriage would be a good thing forher; but she had an untroubled conviction that if she did marry, herhusband should have a house and an income. She had no reliance on herown power of living on a potato, and with one new dress every year.A comfortable home, with nice, comfortable things around her, easein money matters, and elegance in life, were charms with which shehad not quarrelled, and, though she did not wish to be hard uponMr. Saul on account of his mistake, she did feel that in making hisproposition he had blundered. Because she chose to do her duty as aparish clergyman's daughter, he thought himself entitled to regardher as devotee, who would be willing to resign everything to becomethe wife of a clergyman, who was active, indeed, but who had not oneshilling of income beyond his curacy. "Mr. Saul," she said, "I canassure you I need take no time for further thinking. It cannot be asyou would have it."
"Perhaps I have been abrupt. Indeed, I feel that it is so, though Idid not know how to avoid it."
"It would have made no difference. Indeed, indeed, Mr. Saul, nothingof that kind could have made a difference."
"Will you grant me this;--that I may speak to you again on the samesubject after six months?"
"It cannot do any good."
"It will do this good;--that for so much time you will have had theidea before you." Fanny thought that she would have Mr. Saul himselfbefore her, and that that would be enough. Mr. Saul, with his rustyclothes and his thick, dirty shoes, and his weak, blinking eyes,and his mind always set upon the one wish of his life, could not bemade to present himself to her in the guise of a lover. He was oneof those men of whom women become very fond with the fondness offriendship, but from whom young women seem to be as far removed inthe way of love as though they belonged to some other species. "Iwill not press you further," said he, "as I gather by your tone thatit distresses you."
"I am so sorry if I distress you, but really, Mr. Saul, I could giveyou,--I never could give you any other answer."
Then they walked on silently through the rain,--silently, withouta single word,--for more than half a mile, till they reached therectory gate. Here it was necessary that they should, at any rate,speak to each other, and for the last three hundred yards Fanny hadbeen trying to find the words which would be suitable. But he was thefirst to break the silence. "Good-night, Miss Clavering," he said,stopping and putting out his hand.
"Good-night, Mr. Saul."
"I hope that there may be no difference in our bearing to each other,because of what I have to-day said to you?"
"Not on my part;--that is, if you will forget it."
"No, Miss Clavering; I shall not forget it. If it had been a thing tobe forgotten, I should not have spoken. I certainly shall not forgetit."
"You know what I mean, Mr. Saul."
"I shall not forget it even in the way that you mean. But still Ithink you need not fear me, because you know that I love you. I thinkI can promise that you need not withdraw yourself from me, because ofwhat has passed. But you will tell your father and your mother, andof course will be guided by them. And now, good-night." Then he went,and she was astonished at finding that he had had much the best of itin his manner of speaking and conducting himself. She had refused himvery curtly, and he had borne it well. He had not been abashed, norhad he become sulky, nor had he tried to melt her by mention of hisown misery. In truth he had done it very well,--only that he shouldhave known better than to make any such attempt at all.
Mr. Saul had been right in one thing. Of course she told her mother,and of course her mother told her father. Before dinner that eveningthe whole affair was being debated in the family conclave. Theyall agreed that Fanny had had no alternative but to reject theproposition at once. That, indeed, was so thoroughly taken forgranted, that the point was not discussed. But there came to bea difference between the Rector and Fanny on one side, and Mrs.Clavering and Mary on the other. "Upon my word," said the Rector,"I think it was very impertinent." Fanny would not have liked to usethat word herself, but she loved her father for using it.
"I do not see that," said Mrs. Clavering. "He could not know whatFanny's views in life might be. Curates very often marry out of thehouses of the clergymen with whom they are placed, and I do not seewhy Mr. Saul should be debarred from the privilege of trying."
"If he had got to like Fanny what else was he to do?" said Mary.
"Oh, Mary, don't talk such nonsense," said Fanny. "Got to like!People shouldn't get to like people unless there's some reason forit."
"What on earth did he intend to live on?" demanded the Rector.
"Edward had nothing to live on, when you first allowed him to comehere," said Mary.
"But Edward had prospects, and Saul, as far as I know, has none. Hehad given no one the slightest notice. If the man in the moon hadcome to Fanny I don't suppose she would have been more surprised."
"Not half so much, papa."
Then it was that Mrs. Clavering had declared that she was notsurprised,--that she had suspected it, and had almost made Fannyangry by saying so. When Harry came back two days afterwards, thefamily news was imparted to him, and he immediately ranged himselfon his father's side. "Upon my word I think that he ought to beforbidden the house," said Harry. "He has forgotten himself in makingsuch a proposition."
"That's nonsense, Harry," said his mother. "If he can be comfortablecoming here, there can be no reason why he should be uncomfortable.It would be an injustice to him to ask him to go, and a great troubleto your father to find another curate that would suit him so well."There could be no doubt whatever as to the latter proposition, andtherefore it was quietly argued that Mr. Saul's fault, if there hadbeen a fault, should be condoned. On the next day he came to therectory, and they were all astonished at the ease with which he borehimself. It was not that he affected any special freedom of manner,or that he altogether avoided any change in his mode of speaking tothem. A slight blush came upon his sallow face as he first spoke toMrs. Clavering, and he hardly did more than say a single word toFanny. But he carried himself as though conscious of what he haddone, but in no degree ashamed of the doing it. The Rector's mannerto him was stiff and formal;--seeing which Mrs. Clavering spoke tohim gently, and with a smile. "I saw you were a little hard on him,and therefore I tried to make up for it," said she afterwards. "Youwere quite right," said the husband. "You always are. But I wish hehad not made such a fool of himself. It will never be the same thingwith him again." Harry hardly spoke to Mr. Saul the first time he methim, all of which Mr. Saul understood perfectly.
"Clavering," he said to Harry, a day or two a
fter this, "I hope thereis to be no difference between you and me."
"Difference! I don't know what you mean by difference."
"We were good friends, and I hope that we are to remain so. No doubtyou know what has taken place between me and your sister."
"Oh, yes;--I have been told, of course."
"What I mean is, that I hope you are not going to quarrel with me onthat account? What I did, is it not what you would have done in myposition?--only you would have done it successfully?"
"I think a fellow should have some income, you know."
"Can you say that you would have waited for income before you spokeof marriage?"
"I think it might have been better that you should have gone to myfather."
"It may be that that is the rule in such things, but if so I do notknow it. Would she have liked that better?"
"Well;--I can't say."
"You are engaged? Did you go to the young lady's family first?"
"I can't say I did; but I think I had given them some ground toexpect it. I fancy they all knew what I was about. But it's over now,and I don't know that we need say anything more about it."
"Certainly not. Nothing can be said that would be of any use; but Ido not think I have done anything that you should resent."
"Resent is a strong word. I don't resent it, or, at any rate, Iwon't; and there may be an end of it." After this, Harry was moregracious with Mr. Saul, having an idea that the curate had made somesort of apology for what he had done. But that, I fancy, was byno means Mr. Saul's view of the case. Had he offered to marry thedaughter of the Archbishop of Canterbury, instead of the daughter ofthe Rector of Clavering, he would not have imagined that his doing soneeded an apology.
The day after his return from London Lady Clavering sent for Harry upto the house. "So you saw my sister in London?" she said.
"Yes," said Harry blushing; "as I was in town, I thought that I mightas well meet her. But, as you said, Lady Ongar is able to do withoutmuch assistance of that kind. I only just saw her."
"Julia took it so kindly of you; but she seems surprised that youdid not come to her the following day. She thought you would havecalled."
"Oh, dear, no. I fancied that she would be too tired and too busy towish to see any mere acquaintance."
"Ah, Harry, I see that she has angered you," said Lady Clavering;"otherwise you would not talk about mere acquaintance."
"Not in the least. Angered me! How could she anger me? What I meantwas that at such a time she would probably wish to see no one butpeople on business,--unless it was some one near to her, likeyourself or Hugh."
"Hugh will not go to her."
"But you will do so; will you not?"
"Before long I will. You don't seem to understand, Harry,--and,perhaps, it would be odd if you did,--that I can't run up to town andback as I please. I ought not to tell you this, I dare say, but onefeels as though one wanted to talk to some one about one's affairs.At the present moment, I have not the money to go,--even if therewere no other reason." These last words she said almost in a whisper,and then she looked up into the young man's face, to see what hethought of the communication she had made him.
"Oh, money!" he said. "You could soon get money. But I hope it won'tbe long before you go."
On the next morning but one a letter came by the post for him fromLady Ongar. When he saw the handwriting, which he knew, his heartwas at once in his mouth, and he hesitated to open his letter at thebreakfast-table. He did open it and read it, but, in truth, he hardlyunderstood it or digested it till he had taken it away with him up tohis own room. The letter, which was very short, was as follows:--
DEAR FRIEND,
I felt your kindness in coming to me at the station so much!--the more, perhaps, because others, who owed me more kindness, have paid me less. Don't suppose that I allude to poor Hermione, for, in truth, I have no intention to complain of her. I thought, perhaps, you would have come to see me before you left London; but I suppose you were hurried. I hear from Clavering that you are to be up about your new profession in a day or two. Pray come and see me before you have been many days in London. I shall have so much to say to you! The rooms you have taken are everything that I wanted, and I am so grateful!
Yours ever,
J. O.
When Harry had read and had digested this, he became aware that hewas again fluttered. "Poor creature!" he said to himself; "it is sadto think how much she is in want of a friend."