|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 54
Rachel had left her seat, and was now standing before Mr. Johnsen. "Is
that your opinion?"
"My dear Rachel!" interrupted Mrs. Garman. Rachel's eccentricities
really exceeded all bounds.
"Is that your opinion?" repeated Rachel, with the severity of a judge
condemning a criminal.
Johnsen raised his head nervously and looked at her. "Allow me to
explain, Miss Garman," he began. But he could not withstand the
penetrating glance of those clear blue eyes, and hung down his head, and
stopped in the middle of his sentence. Rachel turned round, and without
saying another word left the room.
"I must really, gentlemen," said Mrs. Garman, "beg you to excuse my
daughter. Rachel's conduct is sometimes so very extraordinary; in fact,
I don't understand it at all."
"The behaviour of youth, my dear Mrs. Garman," said the dean, blandly,
"is undoubtedly somewhat strange in these days; but we ought to consider
how times have changed." And the pressure of his soft persuasive hand
was so soothing, that when they were gone, Mrs. Garman felt almost as
much edified as if she had been listening to a sermon.
That the dean, in the course of three or four days, had been able to
bring about this entire change in the inspector, was for Martens a new
source of wonder and admiration; and every one could not but feel
greatly relieved when they saw the two going about and paying their
visits together.
The whole of that memorable Sunday Johnsen had spent in pacing up and
down his room, repeating to himself different parts of his sermon. Some
of his thoughts he had managed to express clearly enough, while others
might have been a little more incisive; but on the whole he was
satisfied. He was not satisfied in the sense that he thought he had
accomplished a great work, but he was so far satisfied that he now felt
that he had room to breathe. Wind in one's sails, even if it is a storm,
is preferable to a dead calm. What emotions he must have stirred in many
a careless soul! How many of his hearers might not now be struggling
with the mighty thoughts which he had thrown amongst them? In the mean
time he looked out upon the street, and he felt almost inclined to
wonder that the town showed its usual Sunday calm. In the afternoon he
expected the dean; he felt certain he would come, and he had a speech
ready with which to receive him. Give way he would not, rather resign
his position; and besides, he knew of one who had promised him her
friendship, if all others should turn their backs on him. And now as the
day went on, and the shadows of evening began to fall, and no dean
appeared, she came more and more into the foreground of his thoughts. He
imagined her by his side, battling with him against the whole world, and
full of hope and courage he laid down to rest.
When he awoke the next morning, he heard the wind whistling, and the
rain pattering on the window-panes. Empty drays were driving at a trot
down the street under his windows, and the busy Monday was again alive,
on that dingy autumn morning. He had to be in the school before eight
o'clock, and begin the work of the day with a prayer and a hymn.
Yesterday his ordinary duties had scarcely entered his thoughts; but
when the faint odour of the children's clothes as they came wet to
school, their inharmonious singing, and that flagging indifference with
which the school week opens after Saturday and Sunday's holiday, rose in
his imagination, his everyday work appeared more than he could bear.
What was it to him? While he was sitting at his breakfast, and was just
thinking of sending the maid down to the school to say he was unwell, a
knock was heard at the door, and Dean Sparre entered the room. Johnsen
at once endeavoured to recollect what he had yesterday arranged to say
to the dean; but at that early hour, and in the presence of that
perplexing smile, he might just as well have tried to sing "Lohengrin"
without notes as to bring to his recollection his ideas of the day
before.
The dean went straight to the point without any parley, but quite from a
different point of view to which Johnsen had expected. He was of
opinion, in fact, without making any further assumption, that Johnsen
was in love with, and even perhaps engaged to, Rachel Garman, and that
in his sermon of yesterday he had been expressing her ideas, which,
although they were certainly original, were still somewhat distorted. At
the same time, he was quite ready to allow that Miss Garman was no doubt
a lady of first-rate ability.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|