The Cathedral

don Goes

ed itself with flowers and ferns. Mrs. Brandon was quite ready to admit that she knew nothing about primroses--there were for her yellow ones and other ones, and that was all. The Archdeacon had often before told her that she was ignorant, and she had acquiesced without a murmur. Upon this afternoon, just as Mrs. Sampson was asking her whether she liked sugar, revelation came to her. That little scene was often

it at once that you know noth

t--thank you, Mrs. Sam

ionately in love with her. He pursued other things--his career, his religion, his simple beneficence, his health, his vigour. His love for his son was the most passionately personal thing in him, and over that they might have met had he been able to conceive her as a passionate being. Her ignorance of life--almost complete when he had met her--had been but little diminished by her ti

kindliness, ceased to consider her. He should have married a bold ambitious woman who would have wanted the things, that he wanted--a woman something like Falk, his son. On the rare occasions when he analysed the situation he realised this. He did not in any way vent his disappointment up

only dormant. For some years she tried to change the situation; she made little appeals to him, endeavoured timidly to force him to need her, even on one occasion threatened to sleep in a separate

fied. Suddenly--and the discovery was awful--she was aware that Falk's affection all turned towards his father rather than towards her. Her son despised her and disre

this discovery that the affa

l the deeper, because it found no expression, did her hatred penetrate. She scored now little marks against him for everything that he did. She did not say to

ld that she possessed. He wrote to her very seldom, but she made her Sunday letters to him the centre of her week, and wrote as

, too, that she was the one of whom he was afraid, and rightly so, the Archdeacon being incapable of discovering any one's pursuits so long as he was engaged on one of his own. Falk's fear of her perception broug

what his plan might be; however dangerous, however wicked, she would assist him. Her moral sense had never been very deeply developed in her. Her whole charact

othing. Under his very nose the thing was, and he was sublimely

ier than not going. She disliked Mrs. Combermere especially because it was in her house that she heard silly, feminine praise of her husband. It amused her,

that, but she had often out

olid, so square and so unshakable and unbeatable was she. She wore stiff white collars like a man's, broad thick boots, short skirts and a belt at her waist. Her black hair was brushed straight back from her forehead, she had rather small brown eyes, a large nose and a large mouth. Her voice was a deep bass. She had some hair on her upper lip, and thick, strong, very white hands. She liked to

s, but they liked her because she gave good wages and fulfilled her promises. She was the first woman in Polch

ester did anything of the kind without having to render account to Mrs. Combermere afterwards. They all sat round the fire, because it was a cold day. Mrs. Com

n, whom did

Bentinck-Majors, Charlot

ave been there. Wha

lets, chocolate souffl

t dr

lemonade for Ch

atastr

so. Bentinck-Majo

I missed that. W

t ele

you ask

he Ron

sing one foot, kicke

I'll tell you for your good, my dear

u needn't mind me, Betsy. Yo

st place, h

les laug

life. I thought you w

. I often am. I take prejudices, I know. Secondly

ed disguise--h

agrees with ever

not talked to hi

her head as the door op

Cathedral. But I've calle

in her own dark a

you to find it all out for yo

able, "it's the first time you ever have. And Ellen," she went on, "

ss Stiles' voice was softer and s

about the elephant. That was a thing

ough, that it happened to Brandon. T

k, doctor? Miss Dobell and

or a handle, and whose voice was like the running brook both for melody and monotony, thus suddenly

ight from the desert ate our best Archdeacon's best hat in the High Street. You must admit that that's a

all. Brandon may have his faults, but this town and everything decent in it hangs by him. Take him away and the place drops to

little brighter. She knew her Betsy Comberme

that to the place, he'd better lo

you mean by that?"

octor for support, "that young Brandon is spending the whole of his time down i

al in this place comes from you. If it weren't for you we shouldn't be so exactly like every novelist's Cathedral town. But I warn you, I won't have you talking about Brandon. His son's only a

fingers trembling as s

rs, Betsy, but that doesn't allow you all the privileges. The only matter with me is t

fool. Who's insulting your friends? You'd insult them yourself

d the maid announc

pt that he was feeling very well and expected amusement from his company. He presented precisely the picture of a nice contented clergyman who might be baffled by a school tr

u will forgive my aunt, but she has a bad hea

are that has frightened many people in its time, and to-day it was especially challenging. S

as aware that Mrs. Combermere, at any rate, had de

oured my poor little house. I hear that you're a busy man.

s, that he would be consciously awkward and

r, smiling, aware, apparently, of no one else in the room. "I'm a

hink it, Canon Ronder. But I'm afraid you're givin

but good,

I expect you're going to shake us

ven't an idea in the world." "Too much modesty is

irst modest man. But I'm not mo

re, too, you will be the exception.

hed, but did not take his eyes away from her. "I hope that you've been here so lo

e said, very

see which of us is right. I'll

antly. "A great deal can happen in a year.

e than I deserve," he

shrill proclamation of her adoration of Browning. Conversation became general, and was concerned first with the Jubilee and the preparations for it, afterwards with the state of South Africa, Lord Penrhyn

which Mrs. Combermere replied "Fudge! As though eve

to herself with a certain malicious pleasure that their hostess wa

osphere. No one ever paid any attention to Mrs. Brandon in Polchester, and although Mr. Morris had been some time now in the town, he was so shy and retiring and quiet that no one was, as yet, very distinctly a

occasion of a sudden communion with another human being that was so beautiful, so touching, so transcendentally above human affairs that a revelation was the only definition for it. Afterwards, when anal

ome one to protect and care for. Not her husband nor Falk nor Joan needed Mrs. Brandon in the least-- and the Archdeacon did not approve of dogs in the house. Or you may say, if you like, th

ore at Mrs. Combermere's they had been introduced and talked togeth

bilee. Morris said that he had met Falk. Mrs. Brandon, colouring a little, asked was he not handsome? She said that he was a remarkable boy, very indepe

elt lonely even though there was a great deal to

e were long pauses in their conversation, pauses that were like t

hat he would. Their hands touched, and they both felt as though the room had s

o this, she remembered that she had looked, for some unknown reaso

im. Then she went away, and Mrs. Co

he dull