He ended, almost in joke, by
saying, 'In fact, I know no one who could cope with the situation
but yourself; I wish you could find me your own counterpart, or come
yourself in earnest. It is just the air that suits my sister--
bracing sea-breezes; the parsonage, though a wretched place, is well
situated, and she would be all the stronger; but in poor Ellen's
state there is no use in talking of it, and besides I know you are
wedded to your fertile fields and Somersetshire clowns.'
That letter (afterwards shown to us) had worked on Mr. Fordyce's
mind during those mournful days. He was still young enough to leave
behind him Parson Frank and the 'squarson' habits of Hillside in
which he had grown up; and the higher and more spiritual side of his
nature had been fostered by the impressions of the last year. He
was conscious, as he said, that his talk had been overmuch of
bullocks, and that his farm had engrossed him more than he wished
should happen again, though a change would be tearing himself up by
the roots; and as to his own people at Hillside, the curate, an
active young man, had well supplied his place, and, in his TRULY
humble opinion, though by no means in theirs, introduced several
improvements even in that model parish.
What had moved him most, however, was a conversation he had had with
Ellen, with whom during this last year he had often held deep and
serious counsel, with a growing reverence on his side.
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