“I was schoolmistress here when he came.”
“He is a very good man, you said?”
“Yes, indeed. But it stands to reason that a man with Mr. Santley’s gifts must be very good indeed not to get spoiled. In justice to at least half of his congregation, he ought to marry.”
“Why, pray?”
“Why? If he had arrived here with a wife, many a young girl in the village would have been saved a severe heartache. He is a prize in the matrimonial lottery well worth striving for. He is idolized by every female in the village. Now, it is certain he cannot marry them all, and on the day when the happy one is chosen, fancy the hearts that will break!”
“Yours amongst the number?”
“No, sir; I am happy to say I am free. But I take no credit to myself on that account. If I had been idle like some of the young ladies here, there might have been another victim added to the list; but I have so much to do in the school, I have no time to think about the vicar,” she added. “Have you heard him preach, Mr. Hetherington?”
“No, not yet.”
“Ah, you must go to the church tomorrow. He speaks magnificently, and looks a picture in his robes; besides, his sister, Miss Santley, told me he will wear for the first time to-morrow a new surplice and a magnificent embroidered band, which has been worked for him by Miss Dove!”
At the mention of his cousin’s name Walter felt his face flush and his heart leap; but he made no direct reply. He went on eating his strawberries, and turned his face to the open window, as he said—