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Updated: June 24, 2025
Northcott to their rooms. She saw him reluctantly, and was strangely cold and irresponsive in her manner, and as it quickly discouraged him when his kindly efforts met with no appreciation, the conversation they had was soon over. When taking his leave he spoke a few kind sympathetic words to her, to which she made no reply, but her hand trembled in his, and she averted her face.
He was a good hater, and regarded Miss Churton with a feeling that to his way of thinking was a holy one. "Do not I hate them, O Lord, that hate Thee? I hate them with perfect hatred; I count them mine enemies." Northcott might be able to accomplish.
"I can't help thinking that it is not quite fair to the others to carry her off day after day especially after she has not been with her brother for so long a time." "Ah, yes, her brother! Poor girl, I'm afraid you've been sadly bored. We must somehow manage to reshuffle the cards. Starbrow might have a turn at Constance, while you could try Northcott. Would that be better?"
Constance occupied herself with her writing, and Mary would not leave the house alone, but towards evening they went out for a walk on the cliff together, and there they were unexpectedly joined by Captain Horton and Mr. Northcott, who had apparently been consoling each other. The curate and Constance had some literary matters to discuss, and presently drifted away from the others.
In London, in any large town, one is allowed to think what one likes without the neighbours troubling their heads about it. Do you know, Miss Churton, it is strange to me that with your acquirements and talent you do not seek a wider and more congenial field." She smiled. "You must forgive me, Mr. Northcott, for having included you among the troublers of my peace.
How glad Mrs. Chance will be to hear from you," he said, taking her hand. "But I wish to see her, Mr. Northcott I must see her," said Fan; and the curate at once offered to conduct her to her friend's home at Mile End.
Thence an advance of three-quarters of a mile up the river-side was made, the general of the brigade having now crossed; but this ground could not be held, and the British were forced back. Reinforcements were sent, and in performing this service Methuen's chief-of-staff, Colonel Northcott, was killed, the battle raging along the front in full severity.
Ah, here he is." "Mr. Northcott!" exclaimed Fan, starting up with a face full of joy; for it was he, looking older, and with a pale, care-worn face, which, together with his somewhat rusty clerical coat and hat, seemed to show that the world had not gone well with him since he had left Eyethorne. "Miss Affleck if I had only imagined that it was you! How glad I am to meet you once more!
Northcott stopped and knocked lightly at the low front door, warped and blistered by the sun which poured its intolerable heat full upon it. A woman opened the door and greeted the curate with a smile; then casting a surprised look at his companion, stood aside to let them pass into the narrow, dark, stuffy hallway. "He'll be sleeping just now," said the woman, pointing up the stairs.
This about motives did not sound quite sincere; but the vicar was suave in manner, stroking his curate very kindly with soft velvet hand, only waiting for some slight movement before unsheathing the sharp hidden claws. One word of protest and of indignant remonstrance would have been enough; the reply was on his tongue, "Then, Mr. Northcott, I regret that we must part company."
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