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Updated: May 18, 2025
"I don't see why a bishop should send a bad man to any parish," suggested Lady Sarah. "What is he to do with a Groschut, when he has unfortunately got hold of one? He couldn't be turned out to starve. The Bishop would never have been rid of him. A small living some such thing as Pugsty was almost a necessity." "But the people," said Lady Sarah. "What is to become of the poor people?"
"Let us hope they may like him. At any rate, he will be better at Pugsty than at Brotherton." In this way the evening passed off; and when at ten o'clock the Dean took his departure, it was felt by every one except Lady Susanna that the proper thing had been done. Lord George, having thus come back to Manor Cross, remained there.
Groschut scolded him, I fancy that he said nothing. But he bided his time; and when Mr. Hawkins came, then there was a decision pronounced. It was Pugsty, or nothing." "Is Pugsty very nasty, papa?" "It isn't very nice, I fancy. It just borders on the Potteries, and the population is heavy. As he must marry the bookseller's daughter also, the union, I fear, won't be very grateful."
How it would have been with him on such an occasion had his daughter married some vicar of Pugsty, as she had herself once suggested, Lady Sarah did not now stop to enquire. It was reasonable to Lady Sarah that the coming of a Popenjoy should be hailed with greater joy and receive a warmer welcome than the birth of any ordinary baby.
"I wish I had," said Mary wildly, "and that someone had given him the living of Pugsty." But it all tended in the same direction. She began to feel now that it must be, and must be soon. She would, she told herself, endeavour to do her duty; she would be loving to all who had been kind to her, and kind even to those who had been unkind.
"Oh, ut wasna onythun' tull greet about," Captain MacElrath assured him. "'Twas a guid ruddance. He was no a sailor, thot mate- fellow. He was only fut for a pugsty, an' a dom puir apology for thot same." It is said that there are three kinds of Irish Catholic, Protestant, and North-of-Ireland and that the North-of-Ireland Irishman is a transplanted Scotchman.
The Dean was in one of his best humours, and was full of Brotherton news. Mr. Groschut had been appointed to the vicarage of Pugsty, and would leave Brotherton within a month. "I suppose it's a good living." "About £300 a year, I believe. He's been acting not quite on the square with a young lady, and the Bishop made him take it. It was that or nothing."
"He begged the Bishop to let him off," said the Dean, "but his Lordship was peremptory. It was Pugsty or leave the diocese." "What had he done, papa?" asked Mary. "He had promised to marry Hawkins' daughter." Hawkins was the Brotherton bookseller on the Low Church side. "And then he denied the promise. Unfortunately he had written letters, and Hawkins took them to the Bishop.
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