he first
indication of the unusual throng was conveyed to Mr Wentworth in his
little vestry after the choristers had filed into the church in their
white surplices, about which, to tell the truth, the Perpetual Curate
was less interested than he had once been. Elsworthy, who had been
humbly assisting the young priest to robe himself, ventured to break
the silence when they were alone.
"The church is very full, sir," said Elsworthy; "there's a deal of
people come, sir, after hearing the news. I don't say I've always been
as good a servant as I ought to have been; but it was all through
being led away, and not knowing no better, and putting my trust where
I shouldn't have put it. I've had a hard lesson, sir, and I've learnt
better," he continued, with a sidelong glance at the Curate's face;
"it was all a mistake."
"I was not finding fault with you, that I am aware of," said Mr
Wentworth, with a little surprise.
"No, sir," said Elsworthy, "I am aware as you wasn't finding no fault;
but there's looks as speaks as strong as words, and I can feel as you
haven't the confidence in me as you once had. I aint ashamed to say
it, sir," continued the clerk of St Roque's. "I'm one as trusted in
that girl's innocent looks, and didn't believe as she could do no
harm. She's led me into ill-feeling with my clergyman, sir, and done
me a deal o' damage in my trade, and now she's gone off without as
much as saying 'Thank you for your kindness.' It's a hard blow upon a
man as was fond of her, and I didn't make no difference, no more than
if she had been my own child."
"Well, well," said the Curate, "I daresay it was a trial to you; but
you can't expect me to take much interest in it after all that has
passed. Let bygones be bygones," said Mr Wentworth, with a smile, "as
indeed you once proposed."
"Ah! sir, that was my mistake," sighed the penitent. "I would have
'umbled myself more becoming, if I had known all as I know now. You're
a-going off to leave St Roque's, where we've all been so happy," said
Mr Elsworthy, in pathetic tones. "I don't know as I ever was as 'appy,
sir, as here, a-listening to them beautiful sermons, and a-giving my
best attention to see as the responses was well spoke out, and things
done proper. Afore our troubles began, sir, I don't know as I had a
wish in the world, unless it was to see an 'andsome painted window in
the chancel, which is all as is wanted to make the church perfect; and
now you're a-going
|