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Updated: September 17, 2025
On the second day after Christmas, as they sat talking idly in the dusking twilight, the door of the drawing-room was thrown open, and a visitor announced. The name answered with such startling suddenness to the thought with which Marcella had been occupied that, for an instant, she could not believe that she had heard aright. Yet it was undoubtedly Mr. Warricombe who presented himself.
Which of these Warricombes was a gentleman of position, with grown-up sons and daughters? To such a description answered Martin Warricombe, Esquire, well known in the city. His house was in the Old Tiverton Road, out beyond St Sidwell's, two miles away; anyone in that district would serve as guide to it. With purpose indefinite, Godwin set forth in the direction suggested.
Peak have the famous view from the gate; then go on towards Silverton, for the sake of the reversed prospect from the Exe. Who shall be of the party? It was decided that four only should occupy the vehicle, Miss Moorhouse and Fanny Warricombe to be the two ladies. Godwin regretted Sidwell's omission, but the friendly informality of the arrangement delighted him.
'Oh! he exclaimed, after a few minutes' conversation, 'I am so anxious to ask you what has become of Mr. Peak. Soon after my arrival in Exeter, I went to see him, and we had a long talk a most interesting talk. Then I heard all at once that he was gone, and that we should see no more of him. Where is he? What is he doing? There was a barely appreciable delay before Mrs. Warricombe made answer.
You don't know how grieved I am to distress you so. I can't help it, dear; indeed, I can't. Won't you sacrifice a few hours to put my mind at rest? Mrs. Warricombe once more gave expression to her outraged feelings. Sidwell could only listen silently with bent head. If Godwin were coming at all, he would be here by eleven o'clock. Sidwell had learnt that her letter was put into his hands.
For what? Christian laughed. The worst was over; after all, it came as a relief. 'Not for wines, he replied. 'Mr. Warricombe means that Peak is going to be ordained. Malkin's amazement rendered him speechless. He stared from one person to another, his features strangely distorted. 'You can hardly believe it? pressed Buckland.
Warricombe replied only with the joyous smile which greeted his daughter at their next meeting. Mrs. Warricombe remained in ignorance of the ominous shadow which had passed over her house. At present, she was greatly interested in the coming marriage of the Rev. Bruno Chilvers, whom she tried not to forgive for having disappointed her secret hope.
His interest in her was not strictly personal; she moved and spoke before him as a typical woman, not as the daughter of Martin Warricombe and the sister of Buckland. Here at last opened to his view that sphere of female society which he had known as remotely existing, the desperate aim of ambition. Conventional women but was not the phrase tautological?
All had alighted, and for a minute or two there was silence. When Peak had received such geographical instruction as was needful, Warricombe pointed out to him a mansion conspicuous on the opposite slope of the Exe valley, the seat of Sir Stafford Northcote.
Malkin became aware of something like agonised entreaty on Christian's countenance, but this had merely the effect of heightening his curiosity. 'In The Critical? said Warricombe, eagerly. 'I didn't know of that. What was the subject? 'To be sure, it was anonymous, went on Malkin, without a suspicion of the part he was playing before these three excited people.
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