The vicar came out of the vestry and joined the group in the path. Mrs. Ambrose, who had been asking Tom Judd's wife about her baby, also came up, and the squire, who had been presenting Mr. Reid with ten shillings for his Christmas box and who looked singularly bereaved without the faithful Stamboul at his heels, sauntered up and began congratulating everybody. In the distance the last of the congregation, chiefly the old women and cripples who could not keep up with the rest, hobbled away through the white gate of the churchyard.
It had been previously agreed that if the ice would bear there should be skating in the afternoon and the squire was anxious to inform the party that the pond was in excellent condition.
"As black as your hat," he said cheerfully. "Stamboul and I have been sliding all over it, so of course it would bear an ox. It did not crack anywhere."
"Do you skate, Mrs. Goddard?" asked John.
"Not very well—not nearly so well as Nellie. But I am very fond of it."
"Will you let me push you about in a chair, then? It is capital fun."
"Very good fun for me, no doubt," answered Mrs. Goddard, laughing.
"I would rather do it than anything else," said John in a tone of conviction. "It is splendid exercise, pushing people about in chairs."
"So it is," said the squire, heartily. "We will take turns, Mr. Short." The suggestion did not meet with any enthusiastic response from John, who wished Mr. Juxon were not able to skate.
Poor John, he had but one idea, which consisted simply in getting Mrs. Goddard to himself as often and as long as possible. Unfortunately this idea did not coincide with Mr. Juxon's views. Mr. Juxon was an older, slower and calmer man than the enthusiastic young scholar, and though very far from obtruding his views or making any assertion of his rights, was equally far from forgetting them. He was a man more of actions than words. He had been in the habit of monopolising Mrs. Goddard's society for months and he had no intention of relinquishing his claims, even for the charitable purpose of allowing a poor student to enjoy his Christmas holiday and bit of romance undisturbed. If John had presented himself as a boy, it might have been different; but John emphatically considered himself a man, and the squire was quite willing to treat him as such, since he desired it. That is to say he would not permit him to "cut him out" as he would have expressed it. The result of the position in which John and Mr. Juxon soon found themselves was to be expected.