"Papa," said Ernest, after we had left the house, "why didn't Mrs.
Heaton whip Jack when he trod on the egg?"
I was spiteful enough to give Theobald a grim smile which said as
plainly as words could have done that I thought Ernest had hit him
rather hard.
Theobald coloured and looked angry. "I daresay," he said quickly,
"that his mother will whip him now that we are gone."
I was not going to have this and said I did not believe it, and so
the matter dropped, but Theobald did not forget it, and my visits to
Battersby were henceforth less frequent.
On our return to the house we found the postman had arrived and
had brought a letter appointing Theobald to a rural deanery which
had lately fallen vacant by the death of one of the neighbouring
clergy who had held the office for many years. The bishop wrote to
Theobald most warmly, and assured him that he valued him as among
the most hard-working and devoted of his parochial clergy.
Christina, of course, was delighted, and gave me to understand that it
was only an instalment of the much higher dignities which were in
store for Theobald when his merits were more widely known.
I did not then foresee how closely my godson's life and mine were in
after-years to be bound up together; if I had, I should doubtless have
looked upon him with different eyes and noted much to which I paid
no attention at the time.
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