He had an exaggerated respect for money and position—a title was a thing to be revered. Clergymen, like artists, are dependent on patronage, and must swallow their pride. It is therefore, perhaps, only natural that Mr. Glynde should be quite prepared to make some sacrifice of feeling or sentiment (especially the feeling and sentiment of another) in order to secure a position.
Arthur Agar simply followed the spirit of the age. He could not succeed alone, and therefore he proceeded to form a syndicate to compel Dora to love him, or in the meantime to marry him.
“Of course,” said Sister Cecilia to Mrs. Agar, when the matter was first under discussion, “she would soon learn to care for him. Women always do.”
Which shows how much Sister Cecilia knew about it.
“And besides, I believe she cares for him already,” added Mrs. Agar, who never did things by halves.
Sister Cecilia dropped her head on one side and looked convinced—to order.
“Of course,” pursued Mrs. Agar vaguely, “I am very fond of Dora; no one could be more so. But I must confess that I do not always understand her.”
Even to Sister Cecilia it would not do to confess that she was afraid of her.
The interview was easily brought about. Mrs. Agar wrote a note to the Rector and asked him to luncheon. The Rector, who had not had many legal affairs to settle during his uneventful life, was always pleased to be consulted upon a subject of which he knew absolutely nothing. Besides, they gave one a good luncheon at Stagholme in those days.
“I have had a letter from dear Arthur,” said Mrs. Agar, at a moment which she deemed propitious, namely, after a third glass of the Stagholme brown sherry.