CHAPTER IX
My pride, that took
Fully easily all impressions from below,
Would not look up, or half despised the height
To which I could not, or I would not climb.
I thought I could not breathe in that fine air.Idylls of the King
‘Can you come and take a turn in the Temple-gardens, Phœbe?’ asked Robert, on the way from church, the day after Owen’s visit to Woolstone-lane.
Phœbe rejoiced, for she had scarcely seen him since his return from Castle Blanch, and his state of mind was a mystery to her. It was long, however, before he afforded her any clue. He paced on, grave and abstracted, and they had many times gone up and down the least frequented path, before he abruptly said, ‘I have asked Mr. Parsons to give me a title for Holy Orders.’
‘I don’t quite know what that means.’
‘How simple you are, Phœbe,’ he said, impatiently; ‘it means that St. Wulstan’s should be my first curacy. May my labours be accepted as an endeavour to atone for some of the evil we cause here.’
‘Dear Robin! what did Mr. Parsons say? Was he not very glad?’
‘No; there lies the doubt.’
‘Doubt?’
‘Yes. He told me that he had engaged as many curates as he has means for. I answered that my stipend need be no consideration, for I only wished to spend on the parish, but he was not satisfied. Many incumbents don’t like to have curates of independent means; I believe it has an amateur appearance.’