More Pages from a Journal | Page 5

mental stimulus of Southsea and Brighton,
takes an interest in topics unfamiliar to an honest agriculturist who is
immersed all the week in beeves and ploughs and swine.'

Mr. Goacher had intended that Mrs. Poulter should hear that her name
was mentioned.
Mrs. P. 'What are you saying about me?'
Miss E. 'Nothing to your discredit. We were talking about town and
country parishes, and Mr. Goacher maintains that in a town parish a
clergyman of superior intellect is indispensable.'
Mrs. P. 'But what has that to do with me?'
Miss E. 'Oh, we merely brought you forward as an example. You have
moved in cultured society, and he is of opinion that he is better fitted to
preach to people like you than to farmers.'
Mrs. M. 'Culture, fiddle-de-dee! Afore I was married, I lived in the
country. Five-and-twenty years I lived in it. Don't tell me. A farmer
with five hundred acres of land, or even a cowman who has to keep a
dozen cows in order and look after his own garden, wants more brains
than any of your fine town-folk. Ah, and our old parson had a good bit
more than any one of these half-witted curates such as you see here in
Brighton playing their popish antics in coloured clothes.'
Mrs. Poulter was very angry.
'Mrs. Mudge,' she said, speaking to nobody in particular, and looking
straight before her, 'has chosen to-day of all days on which to insult, I
will not call it MY faith, but the faith of the Catholic Church.'
Mr. Goacher at once intervened with his oil-can.
'My leanings, Mrs. Poulter, have latterly at any rate been in your
direction--without excesses, of course; but both you and I admit that the
Church is ample enough to embrace the other great parties so long as
there is agreement in essentials. Unity, unity! Mrs. Mudge's ardour, we
must confess, proves her sincerity.'
Mr. Goacher took another glass of Mrs. Mudge's wine. After the dessert

of almonds and raisins, figs, apples, and oranges--also supplied by Mrs.
Mudge--Miss Toller rose and said she hoped she might be excused, but
Mr. Goacher pressed her to stay. He had offered to entertain the
company with a trifling humorous composition of his own. She
consented, and he recited a parody on 'To be or not to be,' descriptive of
a young lady's perplexity at having received an offer of marriage. When
it was over Miss Toller departed. It was now nine o'clock, and she
found that the dinner things had been washed up, and that Helen had
gone to bed. The next morning she went downstairs a little later than
usual, but there was no Helen. She ran up to her bedroom. It was empty;
she had slept there that night, but her box was packed and directed, and
there was a paper on it to say that the carrier would call for it. Miss
Toller was confounded. She would have rushed to the station, but the
first train had gone. She was roused by the milkman at the area door,
and hastened down to light the fire. At first she resolved to excuse
Helen's absence on the ground that it was Boxing Day, but she would
almost certainly not return, and after breakfast Miss Toller went
upstairs and told her lodgers that Helen had left. Mrs. Poulter managed
to acquaint Mr. Goacher and Miss Taggart that she desired to speak to
them when Mrs. Mudge and Miss Everard were out of the way, and at
midday there was a conference. Mrs. Poulter declared that the time had
now arrived for decisive action, so far as she was concerned. Mrs.
Mudge's behaviour could not be endured. Her insolence in the matter of
the newspaper (this will be explained in a moment), and her contempt
for what was sacred, made it impossible without loss of self-respect to
live with her. The servant's sudden departure for reasons unknown, had,
to use Mrs. Poulter's words, 'put the coping-stone to the edifice.' The
newspaper grievance was this. The Morning Post was provided by Miss
Toller for her boarders. Mrs. Poulter was always the first to take it, and
her claim as senior resident was not challenged. One morning, however,
Mrs. Mudge, after fidgeting for a whole hour, while Mrs. Poulter
leisurely scanned every paragraph from the top of the first page down
to the bottom of the last, suggested that the paper should be divided, as
other people might wish to see it. Mrs. Poulter dropped her eye-glass
and handed Mrs. Mudge the outside sheet, with the remark that if she
would but have intimated politely that she was in a hurry, she could
have had it before.

'I'm in no hurry,' Mrs. Mudge replied, 'and you don't seem to be in any.
Thank you;