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Updated: May 19, 2025
Pybus had no words of hatred, horror, contempt, strong enough for a villain who could be capable of conduct so base. Mrs. Portman was afraid that she must acknowledge that the mother's fatal partiality had spoiled this boy, that his literary successes had turned his head, and his horrid passions had made him forget the principles which Doctor Portman had instilled into him in early life.
Any one could see then that to have young Rex Forsyth close at hand at Pybus St. Anthony was the very best possible thing for the good of Polchester. Lady St. Leath saw it, Mrs. Combermere saw it, Mrs. Sampson saw it, and young Forsyth himself saw it. The Archdeacon entirely failed to understand how there could be any one who did not see it.
Pybus of Clavering, and as of course Hobnell had communicated Sam's letter to his wife, Mrs. Hobnell imparted its horrid contents to her two gossips. A pretty story it was, and prettily it was told throughout Clavering in the course of that day. Myra did not she was too much shocked to do so speak on the matter to her mamma, but Mrs. Pybus had no such feelings of reserve.
Her brother, a Tory Member of Parliament and a placeman under Pitt, strongly objected to an alliance with a penniless and unknown clergyman of Liberal principles; but Miss Pybus happily knew her own mind, and she was married to Sydney Smith in the parish church of Cheam on the 2nd of July 1800.
He began hurriedly to write a letter: DEAR FOSTER I cannot help feeling that I did not make myself quite clear when I was speaking to you yesterday about Forsyth as the best incumbent of the Pybus living. When I say best, I mean, of course, most suitable. When he said best did he meant most suitable? Suitable was not perhaps exactly the word for Forsyth.
And now he...now he..." He could not for a moment find breath. He exercised an impulse of almost superhuman self-control, bringing his body visibly back into bounds again. He went on more quietly: "We are in opposite camps over this matter of the Pybus living we are in opposition over almost every question that arises here. He is an able man. I must do him that justice.
But Foster wanted me to come, and I confess to a certain curiosity myself." "You would like to come to Pybus if things go that way?" Ronder asked him. "I shall be quite glad to come. On the other hand, I shall not be at all sorry to stay where I am. Does it matter very much where one is?" "Except that the Pybus living is generally considered a very important step in Church preferment.
He had seen and heard enough at that dinner to amuse him for many a day; he considered it to have been one of the most entertaining dinners at which he had ever been present. It had been here that he had heard for the first time of the Pybus St. Anthony living.
You came into the middle of it, and were doubtless forced to take the part you did. But I'll have no lot or hold in it. If I am to understand that I gain the Pybus appointment only through a lot of backstairs intrigue and cabal, I'll let it be known at once that I would not accept that living though it were offered me a thousand times." "No, no," cried Ronder eagerly.
Pybus had no words of hatred, horror, contempt, strong enough for a villain who could be capable of conduct so base. Mrs. Portman was afraid that she must acknowledge that the mother's fatal partiality had spoiled this boy, that his literary successes had turned his head, and his horrid passions had made him forget the principles which Dr. Portman had instilled into him in early life.
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