Rachel Ray Part 35

"Mrs. Prime is no parishioner of mine," said the vicar of Cawston.

"If it's true, I'm very sorry for her mother,--very sorry."

"I don't believe a word of it," said Mrs. Cornbury.

"Poor, wretched, unfortunate woman!" said the doctor. "Her little bit of money is all in her own hands; is it not?"

"I believe it is," said Mr. Comfort.

"Ah, yes; I dare say it's true," said the vicar. "She's been running after him ever since he's been here. I don't doubt it's true. Poor creature!--poor creature! Poor thing!" And the doctor absolutely sighed as he thought of the misery in store for Mr. p.r.o.ng's future bride. "It's an ill wind that blows n.o.body any good," he said after a while. "He'll go off, no doubt, when he has got the money in his hand, and we shall be rid of him. Poor thing;--poor thing!"

Before the evening was over Mrs. Cornbury and her father had again discussed the question of Rachel's possible engagement with Luke Rowan. Mr. Comfort had declared his conviction that it would be dangerous to encourage any such hopes; whereas his daughter protested that she would not see Rachel thrown over if she could help it.

"Don't condemn him yet, papa," she said.

"I don't condemn him at all, my dear; but I hardly think we shall see him back at Baslehurst. And he shouldn't have gone away without paying his debts, Patty!"

CHAPTER IV.

MR. COMFORT CALLS AT THE COTTAGE.

Mrs. Ray, in her trouble occasioned by Luke's letter, had walked up to Mr. Comfort's house, but had not found him at home. Therefore she had written to him, in his own study, a few very simple words, telling the matter on which she wanted his advice. Almost any other woman would have half hidden her real meaning under a cloud of ambiguous words; but with her there was no question of hiding anything from her clergyman. "Rachel has had a letter from young Mr.

Rowan," she said, "and I have begged her not to answer it till I have shown it to you." So Mr. Comfort sent word down to Bragg's End that he would call at the cottage, and fixed an hour for his coming. This task was to be accomplished by him on the morning after Dr. Harford's dinner; and he had thought much of the coming conference between himself and Rachel's mother while Rowan's character was being discussed at Dr. Harford's house: but on that occasion he had said nothing to any one, not even to his daughter, of the application which had been made to him by Mrs. Ray. At eleven o'clock he presented himself at the cottage door, and, of course, found Mrs.

Ray alone. Rachel had taken herself over to Mrs. Sturt, and greatly amazed that kindhearted person by her silence and confusion. "Why, my dear," said Mrs. Sturt, "you hain't got a word to-day to throw at a dog." Rachel acknowledged that she had not; and then Mrs. Sturt allowed her to remain in her silence.

"Oh, Mr. Comfort, this is so good of you!" Mrs. Ray began as soon as her friend was inside the parlour. "When I went up to the parsonage I didn't think of bringing you down here all the way;--I didn't indeed." Mr. Comfort a.s.sured her that he thought nothing of the trouble, declared that he owed her a visit, and then asked after Rachel.

"To tell you the truth, then, she's just stept across the green to Mrs. Sturt's, so as to be out of the way. It's a trying time to her, Mr. Comfort,--very; and whatever way it goes, she's a good girl,--a very good girl."

"You needn't tell me that, Mrs. Ray."

"Oh! but I must. There's her sister thinks she's encouraged this young man too freely, but--"

"By-the-by, Mrs. Ray, I've been told that Mrs. Prime is engaged to be married herself."

"Have you, now?"

"Well, yes; I heard it in Baslehurst yesterday;--to Mr. p.r.o.ng."

"She's kept it so close, Mr. Comfort, I didn't think anybody had heard it."

"It is true, then?"

"I can't say she has accepted him yet. He has offered to her;--there's no doubt about that, Mr. Comfort,--and she hasn't said him no."

"Do let her look sharp after her money," said Mr. Comfort.

"Well, that's just it. She's not a bit inclined to give it up to him, I can tell you."

"I can't say, Mrs. Ray, that the connexion is one that I like very much, in any way. There's no reason at all why your eldest daughter should not marry again, but--"

"What can I do, Mr. Comfort? Of course I know he's not just what he should be,--that is, for a clergyman. When I knew he hadn't come from any of the colleges, I never had any fancy for going to hear him myself. But of course I should never have left your church, Mr.

Comfort,--not if anybody had come there. And if I could have had my way with Dorothy, she would never have gone near him,--never. But what could I do, Mr. Comfort? Of course she can go where she likes."

"Mr. Prime was a gentleman and a Christian," said the vicar.

"That he was, Mr. Comfort; and a husband for a young woman to be proud of. But he was soon taken away from her--very soon! and she hasn't thought much of this world since."

"I don't know what she's thinking of now."

"It isn't of herself, Mr. Comfort; not a bit. Dorothy is very stern; but, to give her her due, it's not herself she's thinking of."

"Why does she want to marry him, then?"

"Because he's lonely without some one to do for him."

"Lonely!--and he should be lonely for me, Mrs. Ray."

"And because she says she can work in the vineyard better as a clergyman's wife."

"Pshaw! work in the vineyard, indeed! But it's no business of mine; and, as you say, I suppose you can't help it."

"Indeed I can't. She'd never think of asking me."

"I hope she'll look after her money, that's all. And what's all this about my friend Rachel? I'd a great deal sooner hear that she was going to be married,--if I knew that the man was worthy of her."

Then Mrs. Ray put her hand into her pocket, and taking out Rowan's letter, gave it to the vicar to read. As she did so, she looked into his face with eyes full of the most intense anxiety. She was herself greatly frightened by the magnitude of this marriage question.

She feared the enmity of Mrs. Rowan; and she doubted the firmness of Luke. She could not keep herself from reflecting that a young man from London was very dangerous; that he might probably be a wolf; that she could not be safe in trusting her one lamb into such custody. But, nevertheless, she most earnestly hoped that Mr.

Comfort's verdict might be in the young man's favour. If he would only say that the young man was not a wolf,--if he would only take upon his own clerical shoulders the responsibility of trusting the young man,--Mrs. Ray would become for the moment one of the happiest women in Devonshire. With what a beaming face,--with what a true joy,--with what smiles through her tears, would she then have welcomed Rachel back from the farm-house! How she would have watched her as she came across the green, beckoning to her eagerly, and telling all her happy tale beforehand by the signs of her joy! But there was to be no such happy tale as that told on this morning. She watched the vicar's face as he read the letter, and soon perceived that the verdict was to be given against the writer of it. I do not know that Mrs. Ray was particularly quick at reading the countenances of men, but, in this instance, she did read the countenance of Mr.

Comfort. We, all of us, read more in the faces of those with whom we hold converse, than we are aware of doing. Of the truth, or want of truth in every word spoken to us, we judge, in great part, by the face of the speaker. By the face of every man and woman seen by us, whether they speak or are silent, we form a judgment,--and in nine cases out of ten our judgment is true. It is because our tenth judgment,--that judgment which has been wrong,--comes back upon us always with the effects of its error, that we teach ourselves to say that appearances cannot be trusted. If we did not trust them we should be walking ever in doubt, in darkness, and in ignorance.

As Mr. Comfort read the letter, Mrs. Ray knew that it would not be allowed to her to speak words of happiness to Rachel on that day. She knew that the young man was to be set down as dangerous; but she was by no means aware that she was reading the vicar's face with precise accuracy. Mr. Comfort had been slow in his perusal, weighing the words of the letter; and when he had finished it he slowly refolded the paper and put it back into its envelope. "He means what he says,"

said he, as he gave the letter back to Mrs. Ray.

"Yes; I think he means what he says."

"But we cannot tell how long he may mean it; nor can we tell as yet whether such a connection would be good for Rachel, even if he should remain stedfast in such meaning. If you ask me, Mrs. Ray--"

"I do ask you, Mr. Comfort."

"Then I think we should all of us know more about him, before we allow Rachel to give him encouragement;--I do indeed."

Mrs. Ray could not quite repress in her heart a slight feeling of anger against the vicar. She remembered the words,--so different not only in their meaning, but in the tone in which they were spoken,--in which he had sanctioned Rachel's going to the ball: "Young people get to think of each other," he had then said, speaking with good-humoured, cheery voice, as though such thinking were worthy of all encouragement. He had spoken then of marriage being the happiest condition for both men and women, and had inquired as to Rowan's means. Every word that had then fallen from him had expressed his opinion that Luke Rowan was an eligible lover. But now he was named as though he were undoubtedly a wolf. Why had not Mr. Comfort said then, at that former interview, when no harm had as yet been done, that it would be desirable to know more of the young man before any encouragement was given to him? Mrs. Ray felt that she was injured; but, nevertheless, her trust in her counsellor was not on that account the less.

"I suppose it must be answered," said Mrs. Ray.

"Oh, yes; of course it should be answered."