Philip grew bored during the sermon, but if he fidgetted
Mrs. Carey put a gentle hand on his arm and looked
at him reproachfully. He regained interest when
the final hymn was sung and Mr. Graves passed round
with the plate.
When everyone had gone Mrs. Carey went into Miss Graves’
pew to have a few words with her while they were waiting
for the gentlemen, and Philip went to the vestry.
His uncle, the curate, and Mr. Graves were still in
their surplices. Mr. Carey gave him the remains
of the consecrated bread and told him he might eat
it. He had been accustomed to eat it himself,
as it seemed blasphemous to throw it away, but Philip’s
keen appetite relieved him from the duty. Then
they counted the money. It consisted of pennies,
sixpences and threepenny bits. There were always
two single shillings, one put in the plate by the
Vicar and the other by Mr. Graves; and sometimes there
was a florin. Mr. Graves told the Vicar who had
given this. It was always a stranger to Blackstable,
and Mr. Carey wondered who he was. But Miss Graves
had observed the rash act and was able to tell Mrs.
Carey that the stranger came from London, was married
and had children. During the drive home Mrs.
Carey passed the information on, and the Vicar made
up his mind to call on him and ask for a subscription
to the Additional Curates Society. Mr. Carey
asked if Philip had behaved properly; and Mrs. Carey
remarked that Mrs. Wigram had a new mantle, Mr. Cox
was not in church, and somebody thought that Miss
Phillips was engaged. When they reached the vicarage
they all felt that they deserved a substantial dinner.
When this was over Mrs. Carey went to her room to
rest, and Mr. Carey lay down on the sofa in the drawing-room
for forty winks.
They had tea at five, and the Vicar ate an egg to
support himself for evensong. Mrs. Carey did
not go to this so that Mary Ann might, but she read
the service through and the hymns. Mr. Carey walked
to church in the evening, and Philip limped along
by his side. The walk through the darkness along
the country road strangely impressed him, and the church
with all its lights in the distance, coming gradually
nearer, seemed very friendly. At first he was
shy with his uncle, but little by little grew used
to him, and he would slip his hand in his uncle’s
and walk more easily for the feeling of protection.
They had supper when they got home. Mr. Carey’s
slippers were waiting for him on a footstool in front
of the fire and by their side Philip’s, one
the shoe of a small boy, the other misshapen and odd.
He was dreadfully tired when he went up to bed, and
he did not resist when Mary Ann undressed him.
She kissed him after she tucked him up, and he began
to love her.
