A Tale of a Lonely Parish | Page 9

somewhat unsteadily and to wear a peculiarly
thoughtful expression; while the vicar observed with annoyance that
Strawberry, the old mare, was less carefully groomed than usual.
Strangely coincident with these phenomena was the fact that Simon
Gunn's yellow cat seemed to have entirely repented of her evil practices,
renouncing from the day when Cornelius left for Paris her periodical
invasion of the asparagus beds at the foot of the garden. But the vicar
was too practical a man to waste time in speculating upon the occult
relations of seemingly disconnected facts. He applied himself with
diligence to the work of preparing John Short to compete for the minor
scholarship. The labour was congenial. He had never taken a pupil so
far before, and it was a genuine delight to him to bring his own real
powers into play at last. As the summer wore on, he predicted all

manner of success for John Short, and his predictions were destined
before long to be realised, for John did all he promised to do and more
also. To have succeeded in pushing the Honourable Cornelius through
his entrance examination was a triumph indeed, but an uninteresting
one at best, and one which had no further consequences. But to be the
means of turning out the senior classic of the University was an honour
which would not only greatly increase the good vicar's reputation but
would be to him a source of the keenest satisfaction during the
remainder of his life; moreover the prospects which would be
immediately opened to John in case he obtained such a brilliant success
would be a very material benefit to his unlucky father, whose talents
yielded him but a precarious livelihood and whose pitiable condition
had induced his old schoolfellow to undertake the education of his son.
Much depended upon John's obtaining one or more scholarships during
his career at college. To a man of inferior talents the vicar would have
suggested that it would be wiser to go to a smaller college than Trinity
where he would have less competition to expect; but as soon as he
realised John's powers, he made up his mind that it would be precisely
where competition was hottest that his pupil would have the greatest
success. He would get something--perhaps his father would make a
little more money--the vicar even dreamed of lending John a small
sum--something would turn up; at all events he must go to the largest
college and do everything in the best possible way. Meanwhile he must
work as hard as he could during the few months remaining before the
beginning of his first term.
Whether the lady ever wrote to Mr. Ambrose, John could not ascertain;
she was never mentioned at the vicarage, and it seemed as though the
mystery were never to be solved. But the impression she had made
upon the young man's mind remained and even gained strength by the
working of his imagination; for he thought of her night and day,
treasuring up every memory of her that he could recall, building
romances in his mind, conceiving the most ingenious reasons for the
solitary visit she had made to the vicarage, and inwardly vowing that if
ever he should be at liberty to follow his own inclinations he would go
out into the world and search for her. He was only eighteen then, and of

a strongly susceptible temperament. He had seen nothing of the world,
for even when living in London, in a dingy lodging, with his father, he
had been perpetually occupied with books, reading much and seeing
little. Then he had been at school, but he had seen the dark side of
school life--the side which boys who are known to be very poor
generally see; and more than ever he had resorted to study for comfort
and relief from outward ills. Then at last he had been transferred to a
serener state in the vicarage of Billingsfield and had grown up rapidly
from a schoolboy to a young man; but, as has been said, the feminine
element at the vicarage was solely represented by Mrs. Ambrose and
the monotony of her maternal society was varied only by the occasional
visits of the mild young Mrs. Edward Pewlay. John Short had indeed a
powerful and aspiring imagination, but it would have been impossible
even by straining that faculty to its utmost activity to think in the same
breath of romance and of Mrs. Ambrose, for even in her youth Mrs.
Ambrose had not been precisely a romantic character. John's fancy was
not stimulated by his surroundings, but it fed upon itself and grew fast
enough to acquire an influence over everything he did. It was not
surprising that, when at last chance threw in his way a being who
seemed