Part 37 (1/2)

”There's a nice tart coming, sir.”

”Thank you, I've dined.”

The parson put on his hat and sallied forth into the streets. He eyed the houses on either hand with that melancholy and wistful interest with which, in middle life, men revisit scenes familiar to them in youth,--surprised to find either so little change or so much, and recalling, by fits and s.n.a.t.c.hes, old a.s.sociations and past emotions.

The long High Street which he threaded now began to change its bustling character, and slide, as it were gradually, into the high road of a suburb. On the left, the houses gave way to the moss-grown pales of Lansmere Park; to the right, though houses still remained, they were separated from each other by gardens, and took the pleasing appearance of villas,--such villas as retired tradesmen or their widows, old maids, and half-pay officers select for the evening of their days.

Mr. Dale looked at these villas with the deliberate attention of a man awakening his power of memory, and at last stopped before one, almost the last on the road, and which faced the broad patch of sward that lay before the lodge of Lansmere Park. An old pollard-oak stood near it, and from the oak there came a low discordant sound; it was the hungry cry of young ravens, awaiting the belated return of the parent bird! Mr. Dale put his hand to his brow, paused a moment, and then, with a hurried step, pa.s.sed through the little garden, and knocked at the door. A light was burning in the parlour, and Mr. Dale's eye caught through the window a vague outline of three forms. There was an evident bustle within at the sound of the knock. One of the forms rose and disappeared. A very prim, neat, middle-aged maid-servant now appeared at the threshold, and austerely inquired the visitor's business.

”I want to see Mr. or Mrs. Avenel. Say that I have come many miles to see them; and take in this card.”

The maid-servant took the card, and half closed the door. At least three minutes elapsed before she reappeared.

”Missis says it's late, sir; but walk in.”

The parson accepted the not very gracious invitation, stepped across the little hall, and entered the parlour.

Old John Avenel, a mild-looking man, who seemed slightly paralytic, rose slowly from his armchair. Mrs. Avenel, in an awfully stiff, clean, Calvinistical cap, and a gray dress, every fold of which bespoke respectability and staid repute, stood erect on the floor, and fixing on the parson a cold and cautious eye, said,--

”You do the like of us great honour, Mr. Dale; take a chair. You call upon business?”

”Of which I apprised Mr. Avenel by letter.”

”My husband is very poorly.”

”A poor creature!” said John, feebly, and as if in compa.s.sion of himself. ”I can't get about as I used to do. But it ben't near election time, be it, sir?”

”No, John,” said Mrs. Avenel, placing her husband's arm within her own.

”You must lie down a bit, while I talk to the gentleman.”

”I'm a real good Blue,” said poor John; ”but I ain't quite the man I was;” and leaning heavily on his wife, he left the room, turning round at the threshold, and saying, with great urbanity, ”Anything to oblige, sir!”

Mr. Dale was much touched. He had remembered John Avenel the comeliest, the most active, and the most cheerful man in Lansmere; great at glee club and cricket (though then somewhat stricken in years), greater in vestries; reputed greatest in elections.

”Last scene of all,” murmured the parson; ”and oh, well, turning from the poet, may we cry with the disbelieving philosopher, 'Poor, poor humanity!'”

In a few minutes Mrs. Avenel returned. She took a chair at some distance from the parson's, and resting one hand on the elbow of the chair, while with the other she stiffly smoothed the stiff gown, she said,--

”Now, sir.”

That ”Now, sir,” had in its sound something sinister and warlike. This the shrewd parson recognized with his usual tact. He edged his chair nearer to Mrs. Avenel, and placing his hand on hers,--

”Yes, now then, and as friend to friend.”

CHAPTER XIII.

Mr. Dale had been more than a quarter of an hour conversing with Mrs.

Avenel, and had seemingly made little progress in the object of his diplomatic mission, for now, slowly drawing on his gloves, he said,--