“I saw Dr A— again as we came through London. He says that I am much better; indeed, there is nothing absolutely the matter with me. I haven’t got disease of the lungs, though of course there is a tendency to it, and I shall always be liable to bad attacks of cold. He says I should be better for some definite occupation, partly out of doors. He does not think London would suit me, but this sort of bracing air might do better than a softer one, as I was born here, except perhaps for a month or two in the winter. I may get much stronger, he thinks, or—But it was a very good account to get, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, my lad, I’m glad to hear it—as far as it goes,” said the parson, looking intently at him. Cheriton looked away with deepening colour, and said, rather formally,—
“I thought that I ought to tell you all this, sir, because I have never yet felt justified in referring to what I asked Virginia to tell you last year. But my wishes remain the same, and if you think with such doubtful health I could be of any service to you or to the place—I—I should like to try it.”
“Why, if you have your health, you might do better than be my curate,” said the parson.
“But I won’t exemplify a certain proverb! In short,” said Cherry, looking up and speaking in a more natural manner, “if you’ll have me, parson, I’ll come.”
“And suppose I say I won’t have you?”
“Then I should have to ask the bishop to find me another curacy,” said Cheriton. “I have quite made up my mind; even if I could follow the career I once looked forward to, which is impossible, I should not wish it. I’ve had some trouble, only one thing has made it bearable. I should, like to help others to find that out. But I want to help my old neighbours most. I made up my mind with this place chiefly in my thoughts. I care for it, for many reasons. But nothing now would induce me to change my intention of taking orders if I have the health to carry it out.”
An odd sort of struggle was evident in the old parson’s weather-beaten face.
“They’d work him to death in some fine church at a watering-place, with music and sermons, and all sorts of services,” he muttered to himself.
“Yes; I don’t think that that would suit me as well as Elderthwaite.”