The time had come to speak. "Well, Mr. Mercer," said Rhoda, "either Mr. Burgoyne didn't know what he was talking about, or else you misunderstood him. I don't know what you mean by a job; I can't see one in it myself, and I'm quite sure the Bishop wouldn't be capable of such a thing; but he has appointed Denis Rector of Surley, and in my opinion, a very good appointment it is."
"And in mine too," said Ethel. She did not add more, because the most interesting thing to do at the moment was to watch the Vicar's face.
There was no room for incredulity, with the announcement made in that fashion. He could only stare. But the quality of his stare was such as to give Rhoda and Ethel almost as much gratification as they had drawn from the Bishop's letter.
It was a gratification, however, that was broken in upon at once, for Mrs. Mercer, when she had once taken in the announcement, was so beaming and so sincere in her congratulations that they had to be met in something of the same spirit, and the full flavour of the triumph was lost.
The Vicar, also, when he had recovered himself, added his congratulations, and explained away as far as possible his previous unfortunate expressions; explained also that Mr. Burgoyne's assumption had been so near to being a direct statement that he must have been mistaken himself as to the Bishop's intentions. He was listened to with the utmost politeness, but was shown that he had not quite succeeded in wiping away the mark made by the word 'job,' and was left with the impression that if he was not very careful he would hear more of it.
He was not in fact able altogether to hide his chagrin, although he knew well that he was affording satisfaction in showing it. He took his wife away as soon as politeness permitted, and what he said to her on the way home did not add to her happiness in the stroke of good fortune that had come to her friends.
Rhoda and Ethel loudly, and almost indecently, exulted the moment their backs were turned. Really, it was too transparent. The man had got over his disappointment at having his own absurd hopes dispelled, and had come with no other purpose than to crow over them. She had let that out. Fancy not saying a word to her about it! She was a good little thing herself, and had really meant it when she had said she was pleased. She was worth a dozen of him, with his conceit and his spite. Thank goodness there were not many clergymen like him in the Church. That sort of spirit did more harm to religion than any other. It would really be almost better to have an evil-liver in a parish. Fancy ever thinking that the Bishop could be taken in by him! He knew better than that, at any rate. It had been a most painful exhibition, and the sooner it was forgotten the better.
It gave them something to talk about until Denis came home, when they both flew at him with the news, Rhoda brandishing the Bishop's letter. Questions as to what he had been doing, and why he hadn't let them know, could wait.
Denis's surprised displeasure at their action in opening the letter took them aback. In their eagerness to impart the news they had forgotten that there was anything irregular in the way they had obtained it. They were not accustomed to accept criticism from their brother, but whatever excuses may be made to one's self for opening letters addressed to somebody else, when there is strong curiosity to be satisfied, the doing so wears a different aspect when the excuses have to be made to that somebody else. Denis listened gravely to what they had to say, and then went off to his study, and his gravity and silence had this much effect that they did not follow him there, as they would have thought themselves justified in doing in almost any other circumstances.
Nor did they see him again until they all three met in the drawing-room before dinner.