While Malcolm was trying to make himself agreeable to the second Miss Templeton, and not succeeding as well as he could wish, he more than once broke off the conversation to listen with some amusement to the bantering by-play going on between Cedric and the young clergyman, Mr. Carlyon.
They were evidently on intimate terms, for Cedric addressed him as David or Davie in the most unceremonious manner. Mr. Carlyon appeared to be quite young, certainly not more than six-or seven-and-twenty, and had an odd, characteristic, but most pleasant face, that somehow took Malcolm's fancy at once. It was rather thin and pale, and the mouth a little receding, but the broad forehead and kindly, frank-looking eyes somewhat redeemed this defect. There was so much life and animation in his expression; and a boyish eagerness in his manner, a curious abruptness in his speech, a certain quick clipping of words and sentences, only added to his marked individuality, and was by no means disagreeable when one had become accustomed to it.
Malcolm soon found out that he was the curate belonging to Rotherwood, the church attended by the Templeton family; and it was soon evident to him that the sisters, Miss Elizabeth especially, took a great interest in parochial matters.
"How is old Dr. Dryasdust?" asked Cedric presently, but he spoke in a jeering tone. Then Elizabeth laughed, but Dinah looked shocked, and Mr. Carlyon threw a dry clod at him.
"It really is not such a bad name," observed Elizabeth softly, as though to herself, and then her eyes encountered Mr. Carlyon's—it was evident that he agreed with her.
"The vicar is not a lively person, certainly," he rejoined, "but all the same I have a great respect for him. He is a trifle too mediaeval for these days, and his environment does not suit him a bit."
"He ought to be a fellow of his college—spending his days in disinterring dusty old folios in the Bodleian," pursued Cedric, "instead of being vicar of Rotherwood."
"I think very highly of Mr. Charrington," and Dinah spoke rather gravely. "He is not only a very learned man, but he is such a thorough gentleman. Poor man, it is a blessing that he has you near him, Mr. Carlyon, for his life is very lonely."
"Why does he not get married then?" growled Cedric. "I bet you he is not much over fifty." Then again Elizabeth and Mr. Carlyon exchanged glances.
"I don't think the vicar ever intends to enter the holy estate of matrimony," returned Mr. Carlyon. "He is an old bachelor by choice, and in my humble opinion is likely to remain so; and then his worthy housekeeper, Mrs. Finch, makes him so thoroughly comfortable."