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Updated: June 2, 2025
It is not easy to ask a man what he has been doing with five years of his life, when the question implies a belief that these five years have been passed badly. And it was understood that the questioning must in some sort apply to the man's wife. The Doctor had once said to Mrs. Wortle that he stood in awe of Mrs. Peacocke.
What he told me to do, that to me was right. Had he told me to go away and leave him, I should have gone, and have died. I suppose that would have been right." She paused as though she expected an answer. But the subject was so difficult that Mrs. Wortle was unable to make one. "I have sometimes wished that he had done so.
"I don't know that he is a fool," said Mrs. Wortle. "Yes; he is. He is not yet twenty, and he has all Oxford before him. How did Mary behave?" "Like an angel," said Mary's mother. "That's of course. You and I are bound to believe so. But what did she do, and what did she say?" "She told him that it was simply impossible." "So it is, I'm afraid.
Wortle. "She won't do that. Indeed, I doubt whether I should take them. But if it should come to pass that she should wish to send them back, you may be sure that others will come. In such a matter she is very good as a weathercock, showing how the wind blows." In this way the dinner-party at the palace was in a degree comforting and consolatory.
He was over fifty years of age, and had been Rector of Bowick for nearly twenty. During that time there had been a succession of three bishops, and he had quarrelled more or less with all of them. It might be juster to say that they had all of them had more or less of occasion to find fault with him. Now Dr. Wortle, or Mr.
But Lady Margaret was proud, especially at the present time. "What a romance this is, Mrs. Wortle," she said, "that has gone all through the diocese!" The reader will remember that Lady Margaret was also the wife of a clergyman. "You mean the Peacockes?" "Of course I do." "He has gone away." "We all know that, of course; to look for his wife's husband. Good gracious me! What a story!"
While he drank his tea she remained quite quiet, not touching her own, but waiting patiently till it should suit him to speak. "Ella," he said, "I must tell it all to Dr. Wortle." "Why, dearest?" As he did not answer at once, she went on with her question. "Why now more than before?" "Nay, it is not now more than before. As we have let the before go by, we can only do it now."
His bed-room was in the parsonage-house, and his dinner he took with the Doctor's family. In other respects he lived among the boys. "Will it not be bad for Mary?" Mrs. Wortle had said anxiously to her husband when the matter was first discussed. "Why should it be bad for Mary?" "Oh, I don't know; but young people together, you know? Mightn't it be dangerous?"
So it was with a letter now received at Bowick, in which the Bishop expressed his opinion that Dr. Wortle ought not to pay any further visits to Mrs. Peacocke till she should have settled herself down with one legitimate husband, let that legitimate husband be who it might.
Jeffrey Wortle, D.D., was a man much esteemed by others, and by himself. He combined two professions, in both of which he had been successful, had been, and continued to be, at the time in which we speak of him. I will introduce him to the reader in the present tense as Rector of Bowick, and proprietor and head-master of the school established in the village of that name.
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