‘No,’ said Kate gravely, ‘not quite of my own; but if you consider the interest I take in Langton, and all that I have to do with it, you will see that it does not make much difference. There is Bertie Hardwick, for instance, Mr. Eldridge——’
The Rector interrupted her with a hearty outburst of laughter.
‘Is Bertie Hardwick one of the boys whom you regard as almost your own?’ he said.
‘Well,’ Kate answered stoutly, ‘of course I take a great interest in him. I am anxious about what he is to be. I don’t think he ought to go into the Church; I have thought a great deal about it, and I don’t think that would be the best thing for him. Mr. Eldridge, why do you laugh?’
‘Be quiet, dear,’ said his wife, knitting her brows at him significantly. Mrs. Eldridge had not a lively sense of humour; and she had pricked up her ears at Bertie Hardwick’s name. Already many a time had she regretted bitterly that her own Herbert (she would not have him called Bertie, like the rest) was not old enough to aspire to the heiress. And, as that could not be mended, the mention of Bertie Hardwick’s name stirred her into a state of excitement. She was not a mercenary woman, neither had it ever occurred to her to set up as a match-maker; ‘but,’ as she said, ‘when a thing stares you in the face——’ And then it would be so much for Kate’s good.
‘You ought not to laugh,’ said Kate, with gentle and mild reproof, ‘for I mean what I say. He could not live the kind of life that you live, Mr. Eldridge. I suppose you did not like it yourself when you were young?’
‘My dear child, you go too far—you go too fast,’ cried the Rector, alarmed. ‘Who said I did not like it when I was young? Miss Kate, though I laugh, you must not forget that I think my work the most important work in the world.’
‘Oh! yes, to be sure,’ said Kate; ‘of course one knows—but then when you were young—— And Bertie is quite young—he is not much more than a boy; I cannot see how he is to bear it—the almshouses, and the old women, and the mothers’ meetings.’
‘You must not talk, my child, of things you don’t understand,’ said the Rector, quite recovered from his laughter. He had ten pairs of eyes turned upon him, ten minds, to which it had never occurred to inquire whether there was anything more important in the world than mothers’ meetings. Perhaps had he allowed himself to utter freely his own opinions, he might have agreed with Kate that these details of his profession occupied too prominent a place in it. But he was not at liberty then to enter upon any such question. He had to preserve his own importance, and that of his office, in presence of his family. The wrinkles of laughter all faded from the corners of his mouth. He put up his hand gravely, as if to put her aside from this sacred ark which she was touching with profane hands.
‘Kate talks nonsense sometimes, as most young persons do,’ said Mrs. Eldridge, interfering. ‘But at present it is you who don’t understand what she is saying—or, at least, what she means is something quite different. She means that Bertie Hardwick would not like such a laborious life as yours; and, indeed, what she says is quite true; and if you had known all at once what you were coming to, all the toil and fatigues—— Ah! I don’t like to think of it. Yes, Kate, a clergyman’s life is a very trying life, especially when a man is so conscientious as my husband. There are four mothers’ meetings in different parts of the parish; and there is the penny club, and the Christmas clothing, and the schools, not to speak of two services every Sunday, and two on Wednesdays and Fridays; and a Curate, who really does not do half so much as he ought. I do not want to say anything against Mr. Sugden, but he does pay very little attention to the almshouses; and as for the infant-school——’