Free Framley Parsonage by Anthony Trollope Page A

when it so suited him. He was a gentleman, too, of high breeding and good birth, whose ancestors had been knownin that county – longer, the farmers around would boast, than those of any landowner in it, unless it be the Thornes of Ullathorne, or perhaps the Greshams of Greshamsbury – much longer than the De Courcys at Courcy Castle. As for the Duke of Omnium, he, comparatively speaking, was a new man.
    And then he was a member of Parliament, a friend of some men in power, and of others who might be there;a man who could talk about the world as one knowing the matter of which he talked. And moreover, whatever might be his ways of life at other times, when in the presence of a clergyman he rarely made himself offensive to clerical tastes. He neither swore, nor brought his vices on the carpet, nor sneered at the faith of the Church. If he was no Churchman himself, he at least knew how to live withthose who were.
    How was it possible that such a one as our vicar should not relish the intimacy of Mr Sowerby? It might be very well, he would say to himself, for a woman like Lady Lufton to turn up her nose at him – for Lady Lufton, who spent ten months of the year at Framley Court, and who during those ten months, and for the matter of that, during the two months also which she spent in London,saw no one out of her own set. Women did not understand such things, the vicar said to himself; even his own wife – good, and nice, and sensible, and intelligent as she was – evenshe did not understand that a man in the world must meet all sorts of men; and that in these days it did not do for a clergyman to be a hermit.
    ’Twas thus that Mark Robarts argued when he found himself called upon todefend himself before the bar of his own conscience for going to Chaldicotes and increasing his intimacy with Mr Sowerby. He did know that Mr Sowerby was a dangerous man; he was aware that he was over head and ears in debt, and that he had already entangled young Lord Lufton in some pecuniary embarrassment; his conscience did tell him that it would be well for him, as one of Christ’s soldiers, tolook out for companions of a different stamp. But nevertheless he went to Chaldicotes, not satisfied with himself indeed, but repeating to himself a great many arguments why he should be so satisfied.
    He was shown into the drawing-room at once, and there he found Mrs Harold Smith, with Mrs and Miss Proudie, and a lady whom he had never before seen, and whose name he did not at first hear mentioned.

    ‘Is that Mr Robarts?’ said Mrs Harold Smith, getting up to greet him, and screening her pretended ignorance under the veil of the darkness. ‘And have you really driven over four-and-twenty miles of Barsetshire roads on such a day as this to assist us in our little difficulties? Well, we can promise you gratitude at any rate.’
    And then the vicar shook hands with Mrs Proudie, in that deferentialmanner which is due from a vicar to his bishop’s wife; and Mrs Proudie returned the greeting with all that smiling condescension which a bishop’s wife should show to a vicar. Miss Proudie was not quite so civil. Had Mr Robarts been still unmarried, she also could have smiled sweetly; but she had been exercising smiles on clergymen too long to waste them now on a married parish parson.
    ‘And whatare the difficulties, Mrs Smith, in which I am to assist you?’
    ‘We have six or seven gentlemen here, Mr Robarts, and they always go out hunting before breakfast, and they never come back – I was going to say – till after dinner. I wish it were so, for then we should not have to wait for them.’
    ‘Excepting Mr Supplehouse, you know,’ said the unknown lady, in a loud voice.
    ‘And he is generallyshut up in the library, writing articles.’
    ‘He’d be better employed if he were trying to break his neck like the others,’ said the unknown lady.
    ‘Only he would never succeed,’ said Mrs Harold Smith. ‘But perhaps, Mr Robarts, you are as bad as