The Argosy — page 37: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

24 The Village Blacksmith. The poor little Archdeacon trembled at his title, for his wife con- trived to throw a certain emphasis on it which implied what a sorry Archdeacon he made in her opinion. Sorry he was, and sad too, as he replied: “I really don’t know. Some of these services must, I fear, be abandoned. I cannot under- take them single-handed.” ‘The services ! Do as you like about them. I alluded to your daughter’s disgraceful conduct. What do you mean to do about that? Do you intend this young man’s future to be spoilt by her fickleness and Vera become the talk of the county, or do you intend to assert your authority and insist upon her marrying him?” demanded Mrs. Ryot-Tempest. The Archdeacon was between two fires. He knew he had no more power to compel Vera to marry anyone against her will than he had to stem the torrent of his wife’s anger. This he knew. But how to escape from the fray he didn’t know, and all his scholarship could not tell him. Lempriere could not, Debrett could not; but that third Book which lay on his table, could that help him? He wished he could escape to consult it ; he had derived no little comfort from it latterly. “Well, Archdeacon, will you answer my bday, please ?” said his wife in her shaipest tones. “My dear, I—I—really don’t know. I—I—will do what you advise,” replied the Archdeacon meekly. Mrs. Ryot-Tempest gave an angry snort, and then, after a moment’s hesitation, answered: | ‘Very well, be it so; I will deal with Vera. All I ask is that you support me.” This was by no means what the Archdeacon had meant, but he dare not raise any objection. All he ventured was to remark that . Vera had a very high spirit, and any sharpness would rouseit. Buta scornful smile was the only reply he met with ; and he retired to his study feeling very miserable and dreading Vera’s return and the storm which he foresaw would then break out. One gleam of comfort shone through the gathering clouds: he had received per- mission from the rectoress to do as he pleased about the services ; whereupon the list was speedily reduced to very modest dimensions. Meanwhile Vera, all unconscious of the storm which was brewing in her absence, was meeting with an adventure which made her think there was some sense in her step-mother’s objection to her riding without an escort. She had takena road which brought her hone past the Grange; Mrs. Ryot-Tempest’s old home, now about to become the Archdeacon’s home ; for his wife disliked Woodford, and had only been waiting till he was Archdeacon to leave the Rectory, where she had arranged in her own mind Vera and Mr. Hastings could live, and the ‘latter do the duty: the Archdeacon, perhaps, preaching once a week. COMIC OOOKS.€O)