"I had a feeling this afternoon, when it was too late, that I interrupted you with Horatia at an unfortunate moment."
"No, Sir," replied the young man. "I think, on the contrary, that you saved me from making a blunder. One shock is enough for one afternoon."
"Ah," said Mr. Grenville, making his way towards his favourite chair. "You have told her then that you mean to take Orders?"
"I told her that I had practically made up my mind to do so."
"And what did she say?"
"I gathered that she wasn't surprised, and that she wasn't altogether pleased," returned Tristram with half a smile.
"She is out of sympathy with your views," commented the Rector, tapping with his foot. "And of course, as you know, I deplore extremes myself. But in time you would settle down. Still, I know quite well Horatia's dislike to what seem to be the growing views of the Oriel Common Room, and she appears to me to be quite unable to discuss the matter on its merits. She always says, 'Papa, dear, I do dislike Mr. Dormer so much, and I'm not fond of any of those Oriel people. I cannot understand what Tristram sees in them.' But I'll tell you what I think, my boy," concluded the Rector mysteriously, "and that is, this dislike is a very hopeful sign."
"Why?" asked Tristram with gloom.
"Well, to begin with, Horatia, unlike most women, can generally discuss a subject impersonally, but in this matter she makes a personal application, and she always attacks your friend Dormer, when she might just as well select Mr. Newman or Mr. Froude. Why? Because I verily believe she is jealous of him!" And the Honourable and Reverend Stephen Grenville sat back in his chair to make the full effect of his words.
"You don't really think that she cares—that she could ever...?"