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Updated: May 8, 2025
"I'm afraid, my girl, it never will be all over, as long as you regard your sin as lightly as you do." Essy did not see the Vicar's face thrust toward her. She was sidling to the door. She had her hand on the doorknob. "Come back," said the Vicar. "I have something else to say to you." Essy came no nearer. She remained standing by the door. "Who is the man, Essy?"
But, amongst our company I had almost forgotten to enumerate the name of Monsieur Parole d'Honneur, one of the nicest of French emigres and a dear friend of the vicar's; one known to most of us, also, for many years. Perhaps you may chance to remember the noise that the great Barnard extradition case made in the newspapers and, indeed, all over England too, for that matter in the year 1859?
"If you please, ma'am," said Thomas, "I thought, with your leave, not meaning to be uncivil, and with the vicar's leave, we'd just let that matter be till tea's over, and then go right into it. None of us has looked inside the bag since I came back, not even Jane; she's been quite content to wait and take my word for it as all's right.
One moment he played exquisite bits from Mozart on his violin, to the accompaniment of the vicar's violoncello, that were most entrancing; the next, scraped away at some provoking tarantella that almost set the whole of us dancing, in defiance of the proprieties generally observed at the vicarage. We were asking each other riddles and conundrums. Monsieur Parole suddenly bethought him of one.
In my forlorn position, I felt the good vicar's kindness, in traveling all the way to London to see me, very gratefully. It brought the tears into my eyes tears, without bitterness, that did me good. "I have come, my dear child, to take you back to your old home," he said. "No words can tell how fervently I wish you had never left your aunt and me. Well! well! we won't talk about it.
The words which brought conviction to Luther met her sight. Light beamed on her troubled mind. The mists which the vicar's sophistries had gathered round her rolled away. "From henceforth I will look to Jesus alone, to the teaching of His Word, the guidance of His Holy Spirit," she exclaimed. Clara was free.
"Arthur Saville!" said the vicar promptly, upon which Arthur made a loophole between the curtains and thrust his mischievous face through the gap, to the vicar's amazement and the uproarious delight of the onlookers. A dozen questions had to be asked and answered about studies, examinations, and health, while Peggy sat listening, beaming with happiness and pride.
The farm servants were scattered in their villages. Alice had just told Greatorex of Mary's engagement and the Vicar's opposition. "Eh, I was lookin' for it," he said. "But I maade sure it was your oother sister." "So did I, Jim. So it was. So it would have been, only " She stopped herself. She wasn't going to give Mary away to Jim. He looked at her. "Wall, it's nowt t' yo, is it?" "No.
Notwithstanding, she prevented the publication of more than two calf-skin volumes at a time of the Vicar's sermons; she turned madam aside when she would have hung the parlour with gilt leather, in imitation of Foxholes; and she restricted the little girls to fresh ribbons once a month, and stomachers of their own working.
The English country is a going concern still; just as the Established Church if you'll excuse me saying it, is a going concern. Just as Oxford is or Cambridge. Or any of those old, fine old things. Only it wants fresh capital, fresh idees and fresh methods. Light railways, f'rinstance scientific use of drainage. Wire fencing machinery all that." The vicar's face for one moment betrayed dismay.
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