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He kissed the hand. "I don't find myself prepared to swear to Meynell's precise 'words' any more than I was to Robert's. But I am ready to fight to prevent his being driven out." "So am I!" said Rose, erect, with her hands behind her. "We want all sorts." "Ye-es," said Rose doubtfully. "I don't think I want Mr. Barron." "Certainly you do!
As it came nearer, some instinct made him stand still, as though he became the mere spectator of what was about to happen. Fenton lifted his head; his eyes met Meynell's, and, without the smallest recognition, his gaze fixed on the pavement, he passed on toward the east end of the Cathedral. Meynell straightened himself for a minute's "recollection," and went his way.
And then you tell me the letters show the handiwork of some one intimately acquainted with the local circumstances, who seems to have watched Meynell's daily life. It is of course possible that he may have been imprudent with regard to this poor lady. Let us assume that he knew her story and advised her. He may not have been sufficiently careful.
Meynell's thought plunged back into the past; into its passionate feeling, its burning pity, its powerless affection.
"Meynell's life is absolutely correct, outwardly," he said slowly. "Of course the Upcote people whom he has led away think him a saint." "Ah, well," said the Canon, smiling, "no hope then that way. I rejoice, of course, for Meynell's sake. But the goodness of the unbeliever is becoming a great puzzle to mankind." "Apparent goodness," said Barron hotly. The Canon smiled again.
So gradual had been his advances, that one, day, when she found her daughter depressed and weeping, and at length guessed that Meynell's temporary absence was the cause, the state of affairs flashed upon her with the suddenness of a surprise. When enlightened, she wondered with reason at her dulness in not having before discovered a matter of such surpassing interest.
Charlotte Halliday was heiress-at-law to the fortune of John Haygarth, always provided that her great-aunt Susan died without legitimate issue. Fourteen years of Susan Meynell's life had been spent away from all who knew her. It was certainly possible that in that time she might have formed some legitimate alliance. This was the problem which Horatio set himself to solve.
The carpet business was sold directly after Samuel Meynell's death. The new people kept up the name for a good twenty years 'Taylor, late Meynell, established 1693, that's what was painted on the board above the window but they've dropped the name of Meynell now. People forget old names, you see, and it's no use keeping to them after they're forgotten."
But he had been hardly hit; and the depth of the wound showed itself strangely in a kind of fear of love itself, a fear of Mary! Meynell's attitude toward her during these days was almost one of shrinking. The atmosphere between them was electrical; charged with things unspoken, and a conflict that must be faced.
The beauty of Meynell's relation to the mother and child was plainly to be seen through a very reticent narrative; and to the tale of those hours in Long Whindale no man of heart like the little Bishop could have listened unmoved. At the end, the two men clasped hands in silence; and the Bishop looked wistfully at the priest that he and the diocese were so soon to lose.
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