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Bishop Christopherson of Chichester was arrested for his sermon preached on the occasion of the late queen's funeral, and Archbishop Heath of York resigned the Chancellorship.
C. seriously ill. That was all. Mrs. C. could, of course, only mean Mrs. Christopherson. I mused over the message it took hold of my imagination, wrought upon my feelings; and that afternoon I again walked along the interesting street. There was no face at the window. After a little hesitation I decided to call at the house and speak with Pomfret's aunt. It was she who opened the door to me.
One afternoon, perhaps a fortnight later, I had walked for an hour or two, and on my way back I stopped at a bookstall in the High Street. Some one came up to my side; I looked, and recognised Christopherson. Our greeting was like that of old friends.
Conversation seeming impossible, I shaped a phrase preliminary to withdrawal; but Christopherson would not let me go. 'I should like to tell you, he began, looking at me like a dog under punishment, 'that I have done all I could. As soon as my wife fell ill, and when I saw I had only begun to think of it in that way how she felt the disappointment, I went at once to Mrs.
At first when I saw him he reminded me of some one whom I had met; but afterwards, when it seemed pretty well established that he was my brother, both Christopherson and I thought that this vague recollection of the man, which I mentioned to him, might be based on the fact that there was some sort of likeness between him and some members of my family. Dunbar jotted this down also.
But what the Indians didn't buy of these foods at forbidden costs we ate ourselves, cutting seriously into our profits. And when Mrs. Christopherson sent her little Heine over one day with a bucket of green beans we almost foundered as animals do with the first taste of green feed after a winter of dry hay. We had a few rows of garden east of our shack.
Under the arch on the north side of the presbytery, opposite Day's tomb, is that of Bishop Christopherson or Curteys , and against the wall of the aisle near the chapel of S. Catharine is a curious marble slab with some carving upon it.
'I forget the exact number, murmured Christopherson, in great agitation. 'You see, I can't arrange them properly. I have a few more in in the other room. He led me across the landing, opened another door, and showed me a little bedroom.
Ruin complete, for at the age of forty he had been obliged to earn his living as a clerk or something of the kind. About five years later came his second marriage. 'You know Mrs. Christopherson? asked Pomfret. 'No! I wish I did. Why? 'Because she's the sort of woman it does you good to know, that's all. She's a lady my idea of a lady.
Was she not the kind of woman who lived by sacrifice one who had far rather lead a life disagreeable to herself than change it at the cost of discomfort to her husband? This view of the matter irritated Pomfret, and he broke into objurgations, directed partly against Mrs. Keeting, partly against Christopherson. It was an 'infernal shame, that was all he could say.
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