The Vicar's People Part 23

"The old man will take care of her," he muttered; "and I don't believe that Bess would listen to him even if she won't listen to me. But he's a bad one--one as wouldn't stop at any thing to have his will, and I don't know as I'd feel very comfortable if I was him as stood in his way."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

AMONGST THE ROCKS.

Geoffrey Trethick found that his were very pleasant quarters at the cottage, for Mrs Mullion seemed to take quite a motherly interest in his welfare, while her daughter Madge formed an excellent lieutenant, having evidently been won over by the young man's frank, pleasant ways as much as by his looks.

"If there is any thing I can do to make you more comfortable, Mr Trethick, I hope you'll say so," said Mrs Mullion, one morning as Geoffrey was just going out. "Both Madge and I have got so used to waiting on gentlemen that it comes quite natural to us."

"I'm sure you are very kind," said Geoffrey.

"b.u.t.tons on and darning, and that sort of thing, of course, we'll see to. I used to do all that for our late clergyman, Mr Owen--a very nice, genuine man. He used to put me so in mind of poor Madge's father.

Ah!" she continued, sadly, "very different he was to his brother, Mr Paul--half-brothers, you know. Dear Edward never spoke like Thomas--Mr Paul--does. I don't say but what he would be out of temper sometimes, all gentlemen will be, but he used to say his bad words inside like, so that you could not hear them."

"A very good plan," said Geoffrey, smiling.

"Thomas--Mr Paul, you know--says very strange things sometimes, but he means well, and he is a very, very good man."

"Yes, so I believe," replied Geoffrey.

"Our Mr Owen, too, was a very good man, and they were great friends. I liked him better than this Mr Lee. I went to hear him on Sunday, but I could not really make out what he meant, but I've no doubt he meant well."

"Yes, of course," said Geoffrey, "most clergymen do."

"To be sure," a.s.sented the amiable little woman. "Have you seen the Rumseys yet?"

"I've met the doctor," replied Geoffrey.

"A very clever man," said Mrs Mullion, "and his wife means well, but she drills the children so. She's very proud, and thinks they have come down; but, as I say to my Madge, if she would not drill those poor children quite so much, and use a pocket-handkerchief to their noses, it would be so much better. Yes, Madge, I'm coming directly."

Geoffrey wished she would go, for he wanted to write a letter; but the little lady kept prattling on.

"I want to see you get a good colour, Mr Trethick. You look Londony, you know. You must let me cook you a chop or a steak for breakfast-- underdone, you know. Dr Rumsey says there's nothing like it. So much better for you than fish; and I will say that of our butcher, he does have good meat. His only fault is that, as Mr Paul says, he seems to have a knife that will cut two pounds when you want one."

"A common failing with butchers, I believe," laughed Geoffrey.

"Yes," said the little woman, innocently. "We get our milk there, and-- to be sure! Now, look here, Mr Trethick, before you go out for those early morning walks of yours--"

"Mamma!"

"Yes, Madge, I'm coming! Bless the child! how impatient she is when I'm here. But, as I was going to say, you must let me beat you up a new-laid egg in a gla.s.s of fresh milk. Lornocks have got a new cow, an Alderney, with such a beautiful bust, and I never saw richer milk in my life."

"But, my dear Mrs Mullion, I'm not an invalid!" laughed Geoffrey. "The only consumption I suffer from is that of the pocket."

"Hallo! You here?" said old Mr Paul, stumping in.

"Yes, Thomas. I was advising Mr Trethick about his health."

"Stuff! He's all health! Don't take any notice of her, Trethick, or she'll want to put you in a poultice every night! There, be off, woman!"

"Yes, dear, I'm going," said the little woman, gently.

"She'll be giving you beef-tea and arrow-root till you can't see,"

growled the old fellow. "I believe she was a nurse once."

"Indeed?"

"Yes, before she was born what she is."

Geoffrey stared.

"And that she'll be a hen next, like Mrs Rumsey, to set on eggs and cluck over chickens."

"Metempsychosis?" said Geoffrey.

"Hah! yes! The n.i.g.g.e.rs out in Poonah are right as right about that."

"Very likely," said Geoffrey. "Now, what do you suppose you'll be next?"

"Don't know," said the old man, sharply; "but I've no doubt you'll be a dog."

"May I ask why?"

"Because you're an impertinent puppy now!"

"Just as you like," said Geoffrey, smiling. "But you look cross."

"No, sir; things are not just as I like," said the old man, seating himself upon Geoffrey's table, but only to get off, go quickly to the door, open it softly, and then dash out--to come back disappointed, for there was no one listening. "Look here, Trethick, I want to ask you a plain question."

"Go on, then."

"That niece of mine goes out a great deal now--has gone out a great deal since you've been here. Is it to meet you?"

Geoffrey had hard work to sit unmoved, for he thought of what he knew, and wondered whether he ought to speak out: and he felt that the old man was watching him searchingly.

"No!" said Geoffrey, shortly. "It is not!"

"That's right, I'm glad of it," said the old man, taking a chair, and apparently more at his ease. "She'll be a cat one of these days, hang her! But look here, boy. Don't you look at her. The jade's ready to lead on everybody she sees. If I were not her uncle, I believe she'd set her cap at me. Now, look here: I told you at first, and I tell you again, I'll have no fooling."

"Give me one of those cigars of yours," said Geoffrey, rather bluntly, and apparently without paying any heed to the old man's words. "I want a smoke."

"Humph! Things are going crooked with you, then, are they?"

"Very!" said Geoffrey. "But come out to the summer-house, and let's feel the free air."

"Here, catch hold!" cried the old man, holding out a black cheroot.