That Stick ...

Mr. Deyncourt was a tall fine-looking man, and did not begin by asking subscriptions, but talked about Northmoor, Constance, and Lady Adela, so that Ida found herself affecting much closer knowledge of both than she really had.

‘I found,’ he said, ‘that your sister is most valuable in the Sunday-school.  I wonder if you would kindly assist us.’

Mrs. Morton began, ‘My daughter is not strong, Mr. Deyncourt.’

And Ida simpered and said, hesitating, ‘I—I don’t know.’

If poor Mr. Brown had ever been demented p. 189enough even to make the same request, he would have met with a very different answer.

‘I do not think it will be very fatiguing,’ said Mr. Deyncourt.  ‘Do you know Mrs. Brandon?  No!  I will ask her to call and explain our plans.  She is kind enough to let me meet the other teachers in her dining-room once a week to arrange the lessons for the Sunday.  There are Miss Selwood and Mrs. and Miss Hume.’

These were all in the social position in which Ida was trying to establish her footing, and though she only agreed to ‘think about it,’ her mind was pretty well made up that it would be a very different thing from the old parish school where Rose Rollstone used to work among a set of small tradesmen’s daughters.

When she found herself quite the youngest and best-looking of the party, she was entirely won over.  There was no necessity for speaking so as to betray one’s ignorance during Mr. Deyncourt’s instructions, and she was a person of sufficient force and spirit to impose good order on her class; and thus she actually obtained the gratitude of the young clergyman as an efficient assistant.

Their domiciles being so near together, there were many encounters in going in and out, nor were these avoided on either side.  Ida had a wonderful amount of questions to ask, and used to lie in wait to get them solved.  It was very interesting to lay them before a handsome young clergyman with a gentle voice, sweet smile, and ready attention, and religion seemed to have laid aside that element of dulness and moping which had previously repelled her.

p. 190She was embroidering a stole for Easter, and wanted a great deal of counsel for it; and she undertook to get a basket of flowers for Easter decorations from Northmoor, where her request caused some surprise and much satisfaction in the simple pair, who never thought of connecting the handsome young mission priest with this sudden interest in the Church.

And Mr. Deyncourt had no objection to drop in for afternoon tea when he was met on the sands and had to be consulted about the stole, or to be asked who was worthy of broth, or as time went on to choose soup and practise a duet for the mission concert that was to keep people out of mischief on the Bank-holiday.

Ida had a voice, and music was the one talent she had cared to cultivate; she had had good lessons during her second winter abroad, and was an acquisition to the amateur company.  Besides, what she cared for more, it was a real pleasure and rest to the curate to come in and listen to her or sing with her.  She had learnt what kind of things offended good taste, and she set herself to avoid them and to school her mother into doing the same.

What Mr. Deyncourt thought or felt was not known, though thus much was certain, that he showed himself attentive enough to this promising young convert, and made Mrs. Brandon and other prudent, high-bred matrons somewhat uneasy.

And in the midst the Morna put in at Westhaven, and while Ida was walking home from Mrs. Brandon’s, she encountered Mr. Brady, looking extremely well turned-out in yachting costume and smoking a short pipe.

p. 191There was something very flattering in the sound of the exclamation with which he greeted her; and then, as they shook hands, ‘I should not have known you, Miss Morton; you are—’ and he hesitated for a compliment—‘such a stunner!  What have you been doing to yourself?’

At the gate of the narrow garden, Mr. Deyncourt overtook them, carrying Ida’s bag of books for her.  She introduced them, and was convinced that they glared at each other.

And there ensued a time of some perplexity, but much enjoyment, on Ida’s part.  Mr. Brady reviled the parson and all connected therewith in not very choice language, and the parson, on his side, though saying nothing, seemed to her to be on the watch, and gratified, if not relieved, when she remained steady to her parochial work.