Abington Abbey: A Novel

by Archibald Marshall

"I don't know," said Caroline. "I've never tried it."

The Vicar looked at her critically. He did not quite like her tone; and so young a girl as she now showed herself to be should not have been looking away from him with an air almost of boredom. But she was a 'lady'; that was quite evident to him. She walked with her long coat thrown open, showing her beautifully cut tweed coat and skirt and her neat country boots—country boots from Bond Street, or thereabouts. A very well-dressed, very pretty girl—really a remarkably pretty girl when you came to look at her, though off-hand in her manners and no doubt rather spoilt. The Vicar had an eye for a pretty girl—as the shape of his mouth and chin might have indicated to an acute observer. Perhaps it might be worth while to make himself pleasant to this one. The hard lot of vicars is sometimes alleviated by the devotion of the younger female members of their flock, in whom they can take an affectionate and fatherly, or at least avuncular, interest.

"There isn't much actual visiting of the poor as poor in a parish like this," he said. "It isn't like a district in London. But I'm sure a lot of the cottagers will like to see you when you get to know them." He had thought of adding 'my dear,' but cut it out of his address as Caroline turned her clear uninterested gaze upon them.

"Oh, of course I shall hope to get to know some of them as friends," she said, "if we come here. Oh, look, Dad. Isn't it ripping?"

The wide two-storied front of the house stood revealed to them at the end of another vista among the beeches. It stood on a level piece of ground with the church just across the road which ran past it. The churchyard was surrounded by a low stone wall, and the grass of the park came right up to it. The front of the house was regular, with a fine doorway in the middle, and either end slightly advanced. But on the nearer side a long line of ancient irregular buildings ran back and covered more ground than the front itself. They were faced by a lawn contained within a sunk fence. The main road through the park ran along one side of it, and along the other was a road leading to stables and back premises. This lawn was of considerable size, but had no garden decoration except an ancient sun-dial. It made a beautiful setting for the little old stone and red-brick and red-tiled buildings which seemed to have been strung out with no design, and yet made a perfect and entrancing whole. Tall trees, amongst which showed the sombre tones of deodars and yews, rising above and behind the roofs and chimneys, showed the gardens to be on the other side of the house.

"Perhaps you would like to look at the church first," said the Vicar, "while the keys are being fetched. It is well worth seeing. We are proud of our church here. And if I may say so it will be a great convenience to you to have it so close."

Caroline was all eagerness to see what there was to be seen of this entrancing house, even before the keys came. She didn't in the least want to spend time over the church at this stage. Nor did her father. But this Vicar seemed to have taken possession of them. They both began to wonder how, if ever, they were to shake him off, and intimated the same by mutual glances as he unlocked the door of the church, explaining that he did not keep it open while the house was empty, as it was so far from everywhere, but that he should be pleased to do so when the Abbey was once more occupied. He was quite at his ease now, and rather enjoying himself. The amenity which the two of them had shown in following him into the church inclined him to the belief that they would be easy to get on with and to direct in the paths that lay within his domain. He had dropped his preformed ideas of them. They were not 'new,' nor half-educated, and obviously they couldn't be Dissenters. But Londoners they had been announced to be, and he still took it for granted that they would want a good deal of shepherding. Well, that was what he was there for, and it would be quite a pleasant task, with people obviously so well endowed with this world's goods, and able to give something in return that would redound to the dignity of the church, and his as representing it. His heart warmed to them as he pointed out what there was of interest in the ancient well-preserved building, and indicated now and then the part they would be expected to play in the activities that lay within his province to direct.

"Those will be your pews," he said, pointing to the chancel. "I shall be glad to see them filled again regularly. It will be a good example to the villagers. And I shall have you under my own eye, you see, from my reading-desk opposite."

This was said to Caroline, in a tone that meant a pleasantry, and invited one in return. She again met his smile with a clear unconcerned look, and wondered when the keys of the house would come, and they would be relieved of this tiresome person.

The car was heard outside at that moment, and Grafton said: "Well, thank you very much. We mustn't keep you any longer. Yes, it's a fine old church; I hope we shall know it better by and by."