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There was the Vicar of Whitestone, a parish a little way from Blackstable: he was a bachelor and to give himself something to do had lately taken up farming: the local paper constantly reported the cases he had in the county court against this one and that, labourers he would not pay their wages to or tradesmen whom he accused of cheating him; scandal said he starved his cows, and there was much talk about some general action which should be taken against him.
He was well over fifty, and his wife, to whom he had been married for thirty years, was childless; he did not look forward with any pleasure to the presence of a small boy who might be noisy and rough. He had never much liked his sister-in-law. "I'm going to take you down to Blackstable tomorrow," he said. "With Emma?" The child put his hand in hers, and she pressed it.
There was a tennis-party at the vicarage, and two girls came, daughters of a retired major in an Indian regiment who had lately settled in Blackstable. They were very pretty, one was Philip's age and the other was a year or two younger.
Lucy was glad that they had come there, and the restful grandeur of the place fitted in with the emotions that had filled her mind during the walk from Blackstable. Her spirit was enlarged, and she felt that her own small worries were petty.
She spoke just like the people round Blackstable. "What part of the country d'you come from?" he asked her. "I'm a Kentish woman. I come from Ferne." "I thought as much. My uncle's Vicar of Blackstable." "That's a funny thing now," she said. "I was wondering in Church just now whether you was any connection of Mr. Carey. Many's the time I've seen 'im. A cousin of mine married Mr.
He had so anticipated the emotions he would experience on this occasion that now he felt nothing: he was as unconcerned as though he were going for a few days' holiday. "I've got a rotten nature," he said to himself. "I look forward to things awfully, and then when they come I'm always disappointed." He reached Blackstable early in the afternoon. Mrs.
But when at an election the Liberals had written on his garden fence in large blue letters: This way to Rome, he had been very angry, and threatened to prosecute the leaders of the Liberal party in Blackstable. He made up his mind now that nothing Josiah Graves said would induce him to remove the candlesticks from the altar, and he muttered Bismarck to himself once or twice irritably.
"Well, Philip, your uncle is no longer a young man," said the doctor with a cautious little smile, which suggested that after all the Vicar of Blackstable was not an old man either. "He seems to think his heart's in a bad way." "I'm not satisfied with his heart," hazarded the doctor, "I think he should be careful, very careful."
The Conservative candidate had announced his intention of addressing a meeting at Blackstable; and Josiah Graves, having arranged that it should take place in the Mission Hall, went to Mr. Carey and told him that he hoped he would say a few words. It appeared that the candidate had asked Josiah Graves to take the chair. This was more than Mr. Carey could put up with.
Besides he would be known to a certain extent among old schoolfellows, and he wanted to get away from them all. He felt that his life at school had been a failure. He wanted to start fresh. It happened that his desire to go to Germany fell in with certain ideas which had been of late discussed at Blackstable.
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