“No, Jane, I should have to go to college first; a person must be regularly ordained before he could come and preach in our church.”
Still Jane was not convinced on that point, and she inquired from Farmer Rowe whether he could get Master Owen made vicar in his fathers stead.
“That is impossible, Jane,” answered the farmer, smiling. “We will, however, do our best for the boy; we must look into the state of his affairs, for I can hear of no kindred of his who are likely to do so.”
Owen was allowed to remain at the vicarage longer than might have been expected. It was not easy to find a successor to Mr Hartley. The place had a bad name, few incumbents had lived long there. The tradesmen of Reston, the neighbouring town, however, somewhat hesitated about supplying Jane with provisions.
“But there is the furniture,” she answered, “and that will sell for I don’t know how much; it is very beautiful and kept carefully.”
In Jane’s eyes it might have been so, as it was superior to what she had seen in her mother’s humble cottage. In the meantime she employed herself in preparing a proper suit of mourning for Owen.
“The dear boy will have to go out among strangers, and he shall be well dressed, at all events,” she observed as she stitched away at his garments. She had to work up all sorts of old materials. Her own small wages were due, but of that she thought not; her great desire was that her young master should be properly dressed.
At length, however, the creditors put in their claims; the furniture and all the property of the late vicar had to be sold, but it was insufficient to meet their demands. Farmer Howe, knowing he matters were likely to turn out, took Owen to his house.
The farmer had a large farm of his own, but there had been a bad harvest, and at no time had Fenside Farm been a very profitable one; he therefore could not do as much for the poor lad as his kind heart dictated. His second son David, the scholar of the family, as he called him, who was articled to an attorney in a neighbouring town, happened at the time to be at home.
“David,” said Farmer Howe, “surely the vicar and his wife must have had some kith and kin, and we must find out who they are; they may be inclined to do something for the boy, or, if not, they ought to do so.”