UNIVERSITY CALIFORNIA WITH WHICH IS INCORPORATED “BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY." MAY, 1896. Limitations. A NOVEL. BY E. F. BENSON, AUTHOR OF 'DODO,' ETC. ME CHAPTER VII. EANWHILE the "sheltered life" had gone on as usual at Mr. Markham's. The delight in Ted's success had moved away into its appointed background, in front of which the slow, happy days passed on as uneventfully as ever. But about November a change took place. The Lord Chancellor appeared to have been suddenly struck by Mr. Markham's admirable editions of school classics, or perhaps the fame of the neat covers of the books May stitched for the parish library had reached him, and he offered him the living of Applethorpe, which had just become vacant. Mr. Markham was unwilling to leave his old parish, and May even more so, but the offer was not one to be refused. Applethorpe was a large country parish, and, what was a distinct advantage, a richer one than Chesterford; old Mr. Carlingford, in particular, though careful to avoid in his own person direct means of grace, being always ready to supply funds whereby it might be administered to others. Ted was delighted with the change; his roots had been transplanted so often in school and university life that they never struck very deeply in the soil of Chesterford. The close neighbourhood of Tom's house weighed heavily in favour of Applethorpe, and the accessibility of Lord Ramsden's library, which contained many dirty old volumes in which he had visions, as every book-lover has, of finding undiscovered treasures in the way of twelfthcentury missals, was not without its effect. May alone did not like it. It seemed to her that she was going out into new and more elaborate places, which might prove perplexingly different VOL. CVIII. B from the green fields and country lanes she knew so well. Things were going to be on a bigger scale; they would keep one curate, perhaps two; London itself loomed on the horizon, and when her father had gone to see the place, he came back saying that it looked a pretty country, but there had been a London fog, which had drifted down from town. However, she quite acquiesced in her father's decision, and before Christmas they had moved. Their house stood at one end of the long straggling village, a typical rectory of the newer class, with a tennis lawn in front and a stable-yard behind, a hall paved with red tiles, and far too much ivy and virginia creeper on the walls. Ted arrived soon after from Cambridge, with a large square box full of books, which could only just get through the front door. He and May had gone a long exploring walk in the country one afternoon, and were returning home along the clean frozen road through the village. They had been talking about the place. "It's so big, Ted," May had said, "it almost frightens me, as I told you once a big place would do. It is so hard to get hold of a lot of people like this." "Well, there will be a curate, won't there?" said Ted. "Of course it's too large for father alone." "Yes, I know there will; but you don't understand. I must get hold of them myself. I must do all I did at Chesterford, and more." Ted looked at her kindly. "Yes, I know how you feel about it. It's the personal relation you want, isn't it?" "No, I don't care about their personal relation to me. They might all hate me if they liked. But the quickest way to get at people's hearts for any purpose is to make them like one." "Don't be worried, May," said he. "You will soon get to know them all, unless I'm very much mistaken." "Ah, but just think of the state things are in! I went to see an old woman yesterday. She couldn't understand at first why I came. I told her I was the new vicar's daughter, and she asked me what I wanted. The late vicar used never to visit anybody, she said." "Yes, it will be hard work." "I wish you could come here after you were ordained," said May, "as father's curate." "I must stop at Cambridge," said Ted; "you wouldn't wish me to give that up?" |