A Tale of a Lonely Parish | Page 2

wife, the excellent Mrs. Ambrose, enjoyed
unfailing health and good spirits; he himself was still vigorous and
active, and as yet found no difficulty in obtaining a couple of pupils at

two hundred pounds a year each, for he had early got a reputation for
successfully preparing young gentlemen with whom no other private
tutor could do anything, and he had established the scale of his prices
accordingly. It is true that he had sacrificed other things for the sake of
imparting tuition, and more than once he had hesitated and asked
himself whether he should go on. Indeed, when he graduated, it was
thought that he would soon make himself remarkable by the publication
of some scholarly work; it was foretold that he might become a famous
preacher; it was asserted that he was a general favourite with the
Fellows of Trinity and would get a proportionately fat living--but he
had committed the unpardonable sin of allowing his chances of fortune
to slip from him. He had given up his fellowship, had married and had
accepted an insignificant country living. He asked nothing, and he got
nothing. He never attracted the notice of his bishop by doing anything
extraordinary, nor the notice of the public by appearing in print. He
baptized, married and buried the people of Billingsfield, Essex, and he
took private pupils. He wrote a sermon once a fortnight, and revised old
ones for the other three occasions out of four. His sermons were good
in their way, but were intended for simple folk and did no justice to the
powers he had certainly possessed in his youth. Indeed, as years went
on, the dry routine of his life produced its inevitable effect upon his
mind, and the productions of Mr. Ambrose grew to be exceedingly
commonplace; and the more commonplace he became, the more he
regretted having done so little with the faculties he enjoyed, and the
more weary he became of the daily task of galvanising the dull minds
of his pupils into a spasmodic activity, just sufficient to leap the ditch
that separates the schoolboy from the undergraduate. He had not only
educated his children and seen them provided for in the world; he had
also saved a little money, and he had insured his life for five hundred
pounds. There was no longer any positive necessity for continuing to
teach, as there had been thirty years ago, when he first married.
So much for the circumstances of the Reverend Augustin Ambrose.
Personally he was a man of good presence, five feet ten inches in
height, active and strong, of a ruddy complexion with smooth, thick
grey hair and a plentiful grey beard. He shaved his upper lip however,
greatly to the detriment of his appearance, for the said upper lip was

very long and the absence of the hirsute appendage showed a very large
mouth with very thin lips, generally compressed into an expression of
remarkable obstinacy. His nose was both broad and long and his grey
eyes were bright and aggressive in their glance. As a matter of fact Mr.
Ambrose was combative by nature, but his fighting instincts seem to
have been generally employed in the protection of rights he already
possessed, rather than in pushing on in search of fresh fields of activity.
He was an active man, fond of walking alone and able to walk any
distance he pleased; a charitable man with the charity peculiar to people
of exceedingly economical tendencies and possessing small fixed
incomes. He would give himself vast personal trouble to assist distress,
as though aware that since he could not give much money to the poor
he was bound to give the best of himself. The good Mrs. Ambrose
seconded him in this as in all his works; labouring hard when hard
work could do any good, but giving material assistance with a sparing
hand. It sufficiently defines the two to say that although many a surly
labourer in the parish grumbled that the vicar and his wife were
"oncommon near", when money was concerned, there was nevertheless
no trouble in which their aid was not invoked and their advice asked.
But the indigent labourer not uncommonly retrieved his position by
asking a shilling of one of the young gentlemen at the vicarage, who
were generally open-handed, good-looking boys, blessed with a great
deal more money than brains.
At the time when this tale opens, however, it chanced that one of the
two young gentlemen at the vicarage was by no means in the position
peculiar to the majority of youths who sought the good offices of the
Reverend Augustin Ambrose. John Short, aged eighteen, was in all
respects a remarkable contrast to his companion the Honourable
Cornelius Angleside. John Short was apparently very poor; the