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Updated: June 22, 2025
I told him you were in bed and fast asleep, but he said it was of the greatest importance and I was to wake you. Perhaps you had better read it." With a hand that trembled terribly, Vera tore open the envelope. There were only two or three lines there in Fenwick's stiff handwriting; they were curt and discourteous, and very much to the point. They ran as follows
But the two others I had seen again and again; yet, with respect to them both I remembered principally that occasion when Mr. Ireland had entertained his mother and sister in Mr. Fenwick's lodging on that one night he was in town, and gone off with them into the dark so merrily; and Mr. Grove had brought up the chocolate in white cups, and we had all been merry together.
Fenwick's opinion was, upon the whole, rather in favour of the second expedition to Pycroft Common, as she declared that the mother should at any rate be allowed to see her child. She indeed would not submit to the idea of the miller's indomitable powers. If she were Mrs. Brattle, she said, she'd pull the old man's ears, and make him give way. "You go and try," said the Vicar.
If the letter is written before the post goes out tomorrow afternoon it will be in good time. I am much too tired to do it now." Just for a moment Fenwick's eyes blazed angrily again. It seemed to Vera that the man was about to burst forth into a storm of passion. The hot words did not come, however, for Fenwick restrained himself.
"We had better go straight up to the house," he said, as soon as the pathway had led them off Lord Trowbridge's land into his own domain. "I think we had," said she. "If we go round by the stables it will make us late for Fenwick's dinner." "We ought to be back by half-past two," she said. They had left the church exactly at half-past twelve, and were therefore to be together for two hours.
Fenwick's purse-strings relaxed as readily to the hand of Charles as to his own.
Of Eugénie, still a few words remain to say. About a year after Fenwick's return she lost her father. A little later Elsie Welby died. To the end of her life she had never willingly accepted Eugénie's service, and the memory of this, alack, is for Eugénie among the pains that endure. What influence it may have had upon her later course can hardly be discussed here.
Hitherto he had hardly gained a single soul from under Mr. Fenwick's grasp, had indeed on the balance lost his grasp on souls, and was beginning to be aware that this was so because of the cabbages and the peaches. He told himself that though he had not hankered after these flesh-pots, that though he would have preferred to be without the flesh-pots, he had submitted to them.
Eugénie's eyes meanwhile had begun to sparkle, as she stood in her sable cap and cloak, waiting for her companions. Fenwick approached her. 'Will you sit to-morrow? 'I think not I have some engagements. 'Next day? 'I will let you know. Fenwick's colour rose. 'There is a good deal to do still and I must work at my other picture. 'Yes, I know. I will write.
Fenwick's wrath was of no particular account to anybody, and that he was presuming on a commission he had been very lucky to get.
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