Whatever faults there might be in Mr. Comfort’s character, he was at any rate good-natured and patient. That he was sincere, too, no one who knew him well had ever doubted—sincere, that is, as far as his intentions went. When he endeavoured to teach his flock that they should despise money, he thought that he despised it himself. When he told the little children that this world should be as nothing to them, he did not remember that he himself enjoyed keenly the good things of this world. If he had a fault it was perhaps this—that he was a hard man at a bargain. He liked to have all his temporalities, and make them go as far as they could be stretched. There was the less excuse for this, seeing that his children were well, and even richly, settled in life, and that his wife, should she ever be left a widow, would have ample provision for her few remaining years. He had given his daughter a considerable fortune, without which perhaps the Cornbury Grange people would not have welcomed her so kindly as they had done, and now, as he was still growing rich, it was supposed that he would leave her more.
He listened to Mrs. Ray with the greatest attention, having first begged her to recruit her strength with a glass of wine. As she continued to tell her story he interrupted her from time to time with good-natured little words, and then, when she had done, he asked after Luke Rowan’s worldly means. “The young man has got something, I suppose,” said he.
“Got something!” repeated Mrs. Ray, not exactly catching his meaning.
“He has some share in the brewery, hasn’t he?”
“I believe he has, or is to have. So Rachel told me.”
“Yes—yes; I’ve heard of him before. If Tappitt doesn’t take him into the concern he’ll have to give him a very serious bit of money. There’s no doubt about the young man having means. Well, Mrs. Ray, I don’t suppose Rachel could do better than take him.”
“Take him!”
“Yes—why not? Between you and me, Rachel is growing into a very handsome girl—a very handsome girl indeed. I’d no idea she’d be so tall, and carry herself so well.”
“Oh, Mr. Comfort, good looks are very dangerous for a young woman.”
“Well, yes; indeed they are. But still, you know, handsome girls very often do very well; and if this young man fancies Miss Rachel—”
“But, Mr. Comfort, there hasn’t been anything of that. I don’t suppose he has ever thought of it, and I’m sure she hasn’t.”
“But young people get to think of it. I shouldn’t be disposed to prevent their coming together in a proper sort of way. I don’t like night walkings in churchyards, certainly, but I really think that was only an accident.”
“I’m sure Rachel didn’t mean it.”
“I’m quite sure she didn’t mean anything improper. And as for him, if he admires her, it was natural enough that he should go after her. If you ask my advice, Mrs. Ray, I should just tell her to be cautious, but I shouldn’t be especially careful to separate them. Marriage is the happiest condition for a young woman, and for a young man, too. And how are young people to get married if they are not allowed to see each other?”
“And about the party, Mr. Comfort?”
“Oh, let her go; there’ll be no harm. And I’ll tell you what, Mrs. Ray; my daughter, Mrs. Cornbury, is going from here, and she shall pick her up and bring her home. It’s always well for a young girl to go with a married woman.” Then Mrs. Ray did take her glass of sherry, and walked back to Bragg’s End, wondering a good deal, and not altogether at ease in her mind as to that great question—what line of moral conduct might best befit a devout Christian.
Something also had been said at the interview about Mrs. Prime. Mrs. Ray had intimated that Mrs. Prime would separate herself from her mother and her sister unless her views were allowed to prevail in this question regarding the young man from the brewery. But Mr. Comfort, in what few words he had said on this part of the subject, had shown no consideration whatever for Mrs. Prime. “Then she’ll behave very wickedly,” he had said. “But I’m afraid Mrs. Prime has learned to think too much of her own opinion lately. If that’s what she has got by going to Mr. Prong she had better have remained in her own parish.” After that, nothing more was said about Mrs. Prime.
“Oh, let her go; there’ll be no harm.” That had been Mr. Comfort’s dictum about the evening party. Such as it was, Mrs. Ray felt herself bound to be guided by it. She had told Rachel that she would ask the clergyman’s advice, and take it, whatever it might be. Nevertheless she did not find herself to be easy as she walked home. Mr. Comfort’s latter teachings tended to upset all the convictions of her life. According to his teaching, as uttered in
