Father Stafford | Page 3

Bob. You didn't come till he'd left."
"Why is the gentleman called 'Father'?" said Bob.
"Because he is a priest," Miss Chambers answered. "And really, Mr. Territon, you're very ignorant. Everybody knows Father Stafford. You do, Mr. Haddington?"
"Yes," said Haddington, "I've heard of him. He's an Anglican Father, isn't he? Had a big parish somewhere down the Mile End Road?"
"Yes," said Eugene. "He's an old and a great friend of mine. He's quite knocked up, poor old chap, and had to get leave of absence; and I've made him promise to come and stay here for a good part of the time, to rest."
"Then he's not going off again on Monday?" asked Mrs. Lane.
"Oh, I hope not. He's writing a book or something, that will keep him from being restless."
"How charming!" said Lady Claudia. "Don't you dote on him, Kate? Please, Mr. Lane, may I stay too?"
"By the way," said Eugene, "Stafford has taken a vow of celibacy."
"I knew that," said Lady Claudia imperturbably.
Eugene looked mournful; Bob Territon groaned tragically; but Lady Claudia was quite unmoved, and, turning to the Rector, who sat smiling benevolently on the young people, asked:
"Do you know Father Stafford, Dr. Dennis?"
"No. I should be much interested in meeting him. I've heard so much of his work and his preaching."
"Yes," said Lady Claudia, "and his penances and fasting, and so on."
"Poor old Stafford!" said Eugene. "It's quite enough for him that a thing's pleasant to make it wrong."
"Not your philosophy, Master Eugene!" said the Rector.
"No, Doctor."
"But what's this vow?" asked Kate.
"There's no such thing as a binding vow of celibacy in the Anglican Church," announced Miss Chambers.
"Is that right, Doctor?" said Lady Claudia.
"God bless me, my dear," said the Rector, "I don't know. There wasn't in my time."
"But, Eugene, surely I'm right," persisted Aunt Jane. "His Bishop can dispense him from it, can't he?"
"Don't know," answered Eugene. "He says he can."
"Who says he can?"
"Why, the Bishop!"
"Well, then, of course he can."
"All right," said Eugene; "only Stafford doesn't think so. Not that he wants to be released. He doesn't care a bit about women--very ungrateful, as they're all mad about him."
"That's very rude, Eugene," said Kate, in reproving tones. "Admiration for a saint is not madness. Shall we go in, Claudia, and leave these men to pipes and beer?"
"One for you, Rector!" chuckled Bob Territon, who knew no reverence.
The two girls departed somewhat scornfully, arm in arm, and the Rector too rose with a sigh, and accompanied the elder ladies to the house, whither they were going to meet the pony carriage that stood at the hall door. A daily drive was part of Mrs. Lane's ritual.
"By the way, you fellows," Eugene resumed, throwing himself on the grass, "I may as well mention that Stafford doesn't drink, or eat meat, or smoke, or play cards, or anything else."
"What a peculiar beggar!" said Bob.
"Yes, and he's peculiar in another way," said Eugene, a little dryly; "he particularly objects to any remark being made on his habits--I mean on what he eats and drinks and so on."
"There I agree," said Bob; "I object to any remarks on what I eat and drink"; and he look a long pull at the beer.
"You must treat him with respect, young man. Haddington, I know, will study him as a phenomenon. I can't protect him against that."
Mr. Haddington smiled and remarked that such revivals of medi?valism were interesting, if morbid; and having so delivered himself, he too went his way.
"That chap's considered very clever, isn't he?" asked Bob of his host, indicating Haddington's retreating figure.
"Very, I believe," said Eugene. "He's a cuckoo, you see."
"Dashed if I do," said Bob.
"He steals other birds' nests--eggs and all."
"Your natural history is a trifle mixed, old fellow; kindly explain."
"Well, he's a thief of ideas. Never was the father of one himself, and gets his living by kidnapping."
"I never knew such a chap!" ejaculated Bob helplessly. "Why can't you say plainly that you think he's an ass?"
"I don't," said Eugene. "He's by no means an ass. He's a very clever fellow. But he lives on other men's ideas!"
"Oh! come and play billiards."
"I can't," said Eugene gravely. "I'm going to read poetry to Kate."
"By Jove, does she make you do that?"
Eugene nodded sadly, and Bob went off into a fit of obtrusive chuckling. Eugene cast a large cushion dexterously at him and caught him just in the mouth, and, still sadly, rose and went in search of his lady-love.
"Why the dickens does he marry that girl?" exclaimed Bob. "It beats me."
Bob Territon was not the only person in whom Eugene's engagement to Kate Bernard inspired some surprise. But neither he nor any one else succeeded in formulating very definite reasons for the feeling. Kate was a beauty, and a beauty of a type undeniably orthodox and almost aristocratic. She was tall