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Updated: May 18, 2025
He was an extremely conscientious young man this Mr. Parham-Carter an old Etonian, of course, and now in his first curacy.
Altogether, with the curtains drawn and the fire blazing, it was exactly the kind of room that such a wholesome young man ought to have in the East of London. Frank was standing on the hearth-rug as Mr. Parham-Carter came in a minute or two after ten o'clock, bearing a small tray with a covered jug, two cups and a plate of cake. "Good-evening again," said the clergyman. "Have some cocoa?
He just told me he knew the girl, when I asked him." "Good God!" remarked Jack. And there was silence. Dick broke it. "Well, it seems to me we're rather in a hole." "But it's preposterous," burst out Jack again. "Here's poor old Frank, simply breaking his heart, and here are we perfectly ready to do anything we can why, the chap must be in hell!" "Look here, Mr. Parham-Carter," said Dick softly.
Parham-Carter, of course, knew this perfectly well, and had, finally, communicated the fact to the other two quite early in the afternoon. An elaborate system of watches, therefore, had been arranged, by which one of the three had been on guard continuously since three o'clock.
"The reason I'm writing is this: You remember Major Trustcott and Gertie, don't you? Well, I haven't succeeded in getting Gertie back to her people yet, and the worst of it is that the Major knows that there's something up, and, of course, puts the worst possible construction upon it. Parham-Carter knows all about it, too I've just left a note on him, with instructions.
Well, all right.... oh! don't bother to come to the gate." "I'm coming. It may be locked." Mr. Parham-Carter stood looking after Frank's figure even after it had passed along the dark shop fronts and was turning the corner towards Turner Road. Then it went under the lamplight, and disappeared.
Frank looked a piteous sight, thought Dick, who now for the first time saw the costume that Mr. Parham-Carter had described with such minuteness. He was standing almost under the lamp, and there were heavy drooping shadows on his face; he looked five years older than when Dick had last seen him only at Easter. But his voice was confident and self-respecting enough.
Parham-Carter considered the point for a little while in silence, only half attending to the Major, who was now announcing his views on the Establishment and the Reformation settlement. Frank said nothing at all, and there grew on the clergyman a desire to hear his voice. He made an opportunity at last. "Yes, I see," he said to the Major; "and you I don't know your name?"
I got to town last night, and we've come down here at once this morning." Mr. Parham-Carter glanced at the neat melancholy-faced, bearded man who sat opposite. "But you know I promised," he said. "Yes," burst in Jack; "but one doesn't keep promises one makes to madmen. And " "But he's not mad in the least. He's " "Well?"
Parham-Carter, it appeared, had promised him no less than sixpence if he would come round to the clergy-house within five minutes after the lodger's return, and it was obviously impossible to traverse the streets in a single flannel shirt. His mother dismissed it all as nonsense.
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