‘Somehow,’ he told me, ’I could
not help taking off my hat and giving thanks for
her, and then all the drops on all the boughs began
sparkling, and there was a hush on all around as if
she were passing among the angels, and a thrush broke
out into a regular song of jubilee!’
’Then cheerly to your work again,
With hearts new braced and set
To run untired love’s blessed race,
As meet for those who face to face
Over the grave their Lord have met.’
Keble.
That dying request could not but be held sacred, and
overtures were made to Griffith, who returned an
odd sort of answer, friendly and affectionate, but
rather as if my father were the offending party in
need of forgiveness. He and his wife were obliged
for the invitation, but could not accept it, as they
had taken a house near Melton-Mowbray for the hunting
season, and were entertaining friends.
In some ways it was disappointing, in others it was
a relief, not to have the restraint of Lady Peacock’s
presence during the last days we were to have with
the Fordyces. For a fresh loss came upon us.
Beachharbour was a fishing-village on the north-western
coast, which, within the previous decade, had sprung
into importance, on the one hand as a fashionable
resort, on the other as a minor port for colliers.
The living was wretchedly poor, and had been held
for many years by one of the old inferior stamp of
clergy, scarcely superior in habits or breeding to
the farmers, and only outliving the scandals of his
youth to fall into a state of indolent carelessness.
It was in the gift of a child, for whom Sir Horace
Lester was trustee, and that gentleman had written,
about a fortnight before Ellen’s death, to
consult Mr. Fordyce on its disposal, declaring the
great difficulties and deficiencies of the place,
which made it impossible to offer it to any one without
considerable private means, and also able to attract
and improve the utterly demoralised population.
He ended, almost in joke, by saying, ’In fact,
I know no one who could cope with the situation but
yourself; I wish you could find me your own counterpart,
or come yourself in earnest. It is just the
air that suits my sister— bracing sea-breezes;
the parsonage, though a wretched place, is well situated,
and she would be all the stronger; but in poor Ellen’s
state there is no use in talking of it, and besides
I know you are wedded to your fertile fields and
Somersetshire clowns.’
That letter (afterwards shown to us) had worked on
Mr. Fordyce’s mind during those mournful days.
He was still young enough to leave behind him Parson
Frank and the ‘squarson’ habits of Hillside
in which he had grown up; and the higher and more
spiritual side of his nature had been fostered by
the impressions of the last year. He was conscious,
as he said, that his talk had been overmuch of bullocks,
and that his farm had engrossed him more than he wished
should happen again, though a change would be tearing
himself up by the roots; and as to his own people
at Hillside, the curate, an active young man, had
well supplied his place, and, in his truly humble
opinion, though by no means in theirs, introduced several
improvements even in that model parish.
