'I have never noticed anything of the sort,' said Mr. Torkingham.
'It would be a matter for regret,' said the Bishop, 'if he should follow
his father in forming an attachment that would be a hindrance to him in
any honourable career; though perhaps an early marriage, intrinsically
considered, would not be bad for him. A youth who looks as if he had
come straight from old Greece may be exposed to many temptations, should
he go out into the world without a friend or counsellor to guide him.' Despite her sudden jealousy Viviette's eyes grew moist at the picture of
her innocent Swithin going into the world without a friend or counsellor.
But she was sick in soul and disquieted still by Louis's dreadful
remarks, who, unbeliever as he was in human virtue, could have no reason
whatever for representing Swithin as engaged in a private love affair if
such were not his honest impression.
She was so absorbed during the remainder of the luncheon that she did not
even observe the kindly light that her presence was shedding on the right
reverend ecclesiastic by her side. He reflected it back in tones duly
mellowed by his position; the minor clergy caught up the rays thereof,
and so the gentle influence played down the table.
The company soon departed when luncheon was over, and the remainder of
the day passed in quietness, the Bishop being occupied in his room at the
vicarage with writing letters or a sermon. Having a long journey before
him the next day he had expressed a wish to be housed for the night
without ceremony, and would have dined alone with Mr. Torkingham but
that, by a happy thought, Lady Constantine and her brother were asked to
join them.
However, when Louis crossed the churchyard and entered the vicarage
drawing-room at seven o'clock, his sister was not in his company. She
was, he said, suffering from a slight headache, and much regretted that
she was on that account unable to come. At this intelligence the social
sparkle disappeared from the Bishop's eye, and he sat down to table,
endeavouring to mould into the form of episcopal serenity an expression
which was really one of common human disappointment.
In his simple statement Louis Glanville had by no means expressed all the
circumstances which accompanied his sister's refusal, at the last moment,
to dine at her neighbour's house. Louis had strongly urged her to bear
up against her slight indisposition--if it were that, and not
disinclination--and come along with him on just this one occasion,
perhaps a more important episode in her life than she was aware of.
Viviette thereupon knew quite well that he alluded to the favourable
impression she was producing on the Bishop, notwithstanding that neither
of them mentioned the Bishop's name. But she did not give way, though
the argument waxed strong between them; and Louis left her in no very
amiable mood, saying, 'I don't believe you have any more headache than I
have, Viviette. It is some provoking whim of yours--nothing more.' In this there was a substratum of truth. When her brother had left her,
and she had seen him from the window entering the vicarage gate, Viviette
seemed to be much relieved, and sat down in her bedroom till the evening
grew dark, and only the lights shining through the trees from the
parsonage dining-room revealed to the eye where that dwelling stood.