From all which may be
gathered that if Christina had been a Barbary hen, and had ruffled her
feathers in any show of resistance, Theobald would not have ventured
to swagger with her, but she was not a Barbary hen, she was only a
common hen, and that too with rather a smaller share of personal
bravery than hens generally have.
CHAPTER XIV
BATTERSBY-ON-THE-HILL was the name of the village of which
Theobald was now Rector. It contained 400 or 500 inhabitants,
scattered over a rather large area, and consisting entirely of farmers
and agricultural labourers. The Rectory was commodious, and placed
on the brow of a hill which gave it a delightful prospect. There was a
fair sprinkling of neighbours within visiting range, but with one or
two exceptions they were the clergymen and clergymen's families of the
surrounding villages.
By these the Pontifexes were welcomed as great acquisitions to the
neighbourhood. Mr. Pontifex, they said, was so clever; he had been
senior classic and senior wrangler; a perfect genius in fact, and
yet with so much sound practical common sense as well. As son of
such a distinguished man as the great Mr. Pontifex, the publisher,
he would come into a large property by-and-by.
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