The rector took out his snuffbox as they seated themselves in the arbor, and, after a proper and dignified amount of snuffing and dabbing, returned the tortoise-shell case reflectively to his waistcoat-pocket. The courtly expressions of sympathy with regard to Miss Hardacre’s illness were duly forthcoming, and were met by Jeffray with all the sensibility and grace that he could muster. The rector laid his hat on the seat beside him, smoothed his wig, and approached Jeffray on the very subject that was filling the romanticist’s heart.
“Will it tire you, sir,” he said, “if I mention a matter to you that has much exercised my mind of late?”
Jeffray imagined that Sugg was for discussing the outbreak of small-pox in Rodenham and the necessity for keeping the pest-house in proper repair for the future. The rector nodded consentingly, but confessed to a more delicate and picturesque inspiration.
“Perhaps you may remember, sir,” he said, “the girl, Bess Grimshaw, who caused you to come by a broken head in Pevensel?”
Jeffray shot a rapid glance at Dr. Sugg’s face, and felt the blood rushing tumultuously to his cheeks.
“Yes, I remember her,” he said, steadying himself. “The girl was not treated well in the hamlet, and, to be frank with you, I was sorry for her, and promised her help.”
“So I understood, sir,” quoth the rector, tersely.
Jeffray had moved to the end of the seat where he could lean against the hedge of yew. He felt himself trembling in most unmanly fashion, and was wondering whether his emotion was evident to the parson. Dr. Sugg’s eyes appeared fixed reflectively on a distant tulip bed, and he sat with his hands together, his elbows resting on his knees.
“May I ask whether it is true, sir,” he continued, “that you offered to give the girl a home at Rodenham?”
Jeffray’s face was still afire. He had to steady himself before he could reply.
“That is the truth,” he said, slowly, “and I have even been wondering whether Bess Grimshaw could have come to the priory while I was ill.”
“She did come, sir,” quoth Dr. Sugg, rubbing his hands together solemnly.
“And when they frightened her away I took her in at the parsonage, for the poor lass had run away from home rather than marry a man whom she piously hated.”