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Updated: June 18, 2025
In the little town of Belton, close to the church, there stood a pretty, small house, called Belton Cottage. It was so near the church that strangers always supposed it to be the parsonage; but the rectory stood away out in the country, half a mile from the town, on the road to Redicote, and was a large house, three stories high, with grounds of its own, and very ugly.
She had just been to the front door, with the nominal purpose of dispatching her messenger thence to the post-office; but she had stood for a minute or two under the portico, looking in the direction by which Belton would come from Redicote, expecting, or rather hoping, that she might see his figure or hear the sound of his gig.
Now I am here I shall only be in your way. He did not dare to press her hand, nor could he bring himself to take his away from her. 'In my way yes; as an angel, to tell me what to do in my trouble. I knew you would come, because you are so good. But you will have breakfast see, I have got it ready for you. 'Oh no; I breakfasted at Redicote. I would not trouble you. 'Trouble me, Will!
And he, he was able to accept these tokens of her graciousness, as though they were signs of a pardon which she had been good to give, but which he certainly had not deserved. As he went back to Redicote, he swore to himself that he would never love any woman but her, even though she must be the wife of Captain Aylmer.
Their natures were different, and no such union could lead to any good. So she told herself, with much misery of spirit, as she was preparing the breakfast-table for William Belton. But William Belton did not come to eat the breakfast. He got what he wanted in that way at the inn at Redicote, and even then hesitated, loitering at the bar, before he would go over.
So he went to the little inn at Redicote, reaching that place between four and five o'clock in the morning; and very uncomfortable he was when he got there. But in his present frame of mind he preferred discomfort. He liked being tired and cold, and felt, when he was put into a chill room, without fire, and with a sanded floor, that things with him were as they ought to be.
Then he went away, allowing himself to make no further answer at the moment, and discussed the matter with himself as he walked back to Redicote, meditating on it with all his mind, and all his heart, and all his strength.
It was full summer, and the people of the village were again going about their ordinary business; and the shop-girls with their lovers from Redicote were again to be seen walking among the oaks in the park on a Sunday evening; and the world in that district of Somersetshire was getting itself back into its grooves.
There was kept at the little inn at Redicote an old fly-so called which habitually made the journey to the Taunton railway-station, under the conduct of an old grey horse and an older and greyer driver, whenever any of the old ladies of the neighbourhood were minded to leave their homes.
Here lived the old bachelor rector, seventy years of age, given much to long absences when he could achieve them, and never on good terms with his bishop. His two curates lived at Redicote, where there was a second church.
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