at a moment when all around him were entranced by
the eloquence of the youthful divine, a sudden and
deep-drawn sigh drew every eye to the rector’s
pew. The younger stranger sat motionless as a
statue, holding in his arms the lifeless body of his
parent, who had fallen that moment a corpse by his
side. All was now confusion: the almost insensible
young man was relieved from his burden; and, led by
the rector, they left the church. The congregation
dispersed in silence, or assembled in little groups,
to converse on the awful event they had witnessed.
None knew the deceased; he was the rector’s
friend, and to his residence the body was removed.
The young man was evidently his child; but here all
information ended. They had arrived in a private
chaise, but with post horses, and without attendants.
Their arrival at the parsonage was detailed by the
Jarvis ladies with a few exaggerations that gave additional
interest to the whole event, and which, by creating
an impression with some whom gentler feelings would
not have restrained, that there was something of mystery
about them, prevented many distressing questions to
the Ives’s, that the baronet’s family
forbore putting, on the score of delicacy. The
body left B—— at the close of the
week, accompanied by Francis Ives and the unweariedly
attentive and interesting son. The doctor and
his wife went into deep mourning, and Clara received
a short note from her lover, on the morning of their
departure, acquainting her with his intended absence
for a month, but throwing no light upon the affair.
The London papers, however, contained the following
obituary notice, and which, as it could refer to no
other person, as a matter of course, was supposed to
allude to the rector’s friend.
“Died, suddenly, at B——, on
the 20th instant, George Denbigh, Esq., aged 63.”
Chapter VI.
During the week of mourning, the intercourse between
Moseley Hall and the rectory was confined to messages
and notes of inquiry after each other’s welfare:
but the visit of the Moseleys to the deanery had been
returned; and the day after the appearance of the
obituary paragraph, the family of the latter dined
by invitation at the Hall. Colonel Egerton had
recovered the use of his leg, and was included in
the party. Between this gentleman and Mr. Benfield
there appeared, from the first moment of their introduction,
a repugnance which was rather increased by time, and
which the old gentleman manifested by a demeanor loaded
with the overstrained ceremony of the day, and which,
in the colonel, only showed itself by avoiding, when
possible, all intercourse with the object of his aversion.
Both Sir Edward and Lady Moseley, on the contrary,
were not slow in manifesting their favorable impressions
in behalf of the gentleman. The latter, in particular,
having ascertained to her satisfaction that he was
the undoubted heir to the title, and most probably
to the estates of his uncle, Sir Edgar Egerton, felt