[CHAPTER IX]
THE NEW VICAR
The Prescotts came over to the Abbey on the next afternoon. They were to stay there for two nights, and everything was to be settled for Prescott's induction to the living at an early date.
Both of them were in the highest spirits. "What a lark it all is!" said the Vicar-elect of Abington, grinning all over his face as Caroline met them at the door. His wife was as excited and happy as he was, but when Caroline took her up to her room, she took hold of both her hands, and the tears came into her eyes, as she said: "Oh, my dear, if you only knew what all this means to us! This lovely, peaceful country, after the crowds and the dirt! It's the dirt I hate so much. You can't get away from that. Gerry hates it too, though he won't admit it."
Grafton had arranged that they should inspect the Vicarage immediately upon their arrival. The Vicar had expressed some surprise at the suddenness with which everything had been arranged. He let it be understood that it would have been more in keeping with the respect due to his holy office if he had been consulted about the new appointment. But at this time he was more careful than usual to escape all suspicion of dispute, having his eye fixed upon the illuminated address and the silver, or at least heavily-plated, salver or tea-service of the presentation, of which, however, he had as yet gained no hint, although the time for his departure was getting close.
The four of them walked up to the Vicarage together, after a preliminary inspection of the church, with which Prescott expressed himself delighted.
"Ours is a horrid gloomy thing," he said, "and you can't always feel you are getting quite away in it. This is just right. I like it's being here, right away from the village."
Their progress up the village street aroused notice, for it was some weeks since it had been known that the Vicar was giving up, and so far there had been no sign of his successor. If this was to be the new Vicar, it was generally agreed by those who saw him, on his way to and from the Vicarage, that he would do very well. The children were coming from school when they returned, and he and Caroline, who were walking behind the others, found themselves involved in a laughing group of them, and went down to the end of the street with a small boy holding one of Prescott's hands and a small girl the other, while the rest circled round them and gave shrill and hilarious answers to the absurd questions asked of them by this remarkable but none the less entertaining new kind of clergyman.