Then he came out, and the exasperating part of it was that up to a
certain point he was so very right. Grant him his premises and his
conclusions were sound enough, nor could I, seeing that he was already
ordained, join issue with him about his premises as I should certainly
have done if I had had a chance of doing so before he had taken orders.
The result was that I had to beat a retreat and went away not in the best
of humours. I believe the truth was that I liked Ernest, and was vexed
at his being a clergyman, and at a clergyman having so much money coming
to him.
I talked a little with Mrs Jupp on my way out. She and I had reckoned
one another up at first sight as being neither of us "very regular church-
goers," and the strings of her tongue had been loosened. She said Ernest
would die. He was much too good for the world and he looked so sad "just
like young Watkins of the 'Crown' over the way who died a month ago, and
his poor dear skin was white as alablaster; least-ways they say he shot
hisself. They took him from the Mortimer, I met them just as I was going
with my Rose to get a pint o' four ale, and she had her arm in splints.
Pages:
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421