Chapter8

philiphadledalwaysthesolitarylifeofanonlychild,andhislonelinessatthevicaragewasnogreaterthanithadbeenwhenhismotherlived.hemadefriendswithmaryann.shewasachubbylittlepersonofthirty-five,thedaughterofafisherman,andhadcometothevicarageateighteen;itwasherfirstplaceandshehadnointentionofleavingit;butsheheldapossiblemarriageasarodoverthetimidheadsofhermasterandmistress.herfatherandmotherlivedinalittlehouseoffharbourstreet,andshewenttoseethemonhereveningsout.herstoriesoftheseatouchedphilip’simagination,andthenarrowalleysroundtheharbourgrewrichwiththeromancewhichhisyoungfancylentthem.oneeveningheaskedwhetherhemightgohomewithher;buthisauntwasafraidthathemightcatchsomething,andhisunclesaidthatevilcommunicationscorruptedgoodmanners.hedislikedthefisherfolk,whowererough,uncouth,andwenttochapel.butphilipwasmorecomfortableinthekitchenthaninthedining-room,and,wheneverhecould,hetookhistoysandplayedthere.hisauntwasnotsorry.shedidnotlikedisorder,andthoughsherecognisedthatboysmustbeexpectedtobeuntidyshepreferredthatheshouldmakeamessinthekitchen.ifhefidgetedhisunclewasapttogrowrestlessandsayitwashightimehewenttoschool.mrs.careythoughtphilipveryyoungforthis,andherheartwentouttothemotherlesschild;butherattemptstogainhisaffectionwereawkward,andtheboy,feelingshy,receivedherdemonstrationswithsomuchsullennessthatshewasmortified.sometimessheheardhisshrillvoiceraisedinlaughterinthekitchen,butwhenshewentin,hegrewsuddenlysilent,andheflusheddarklywhenmaryannexplainedthejoke.mrs.careycouldnotseeanythingamusinginwhatsheheard,andshesmiledwithconstraint.

“heseemshappierwithmaryannthanwithus,william,”shesaid,whenshereturnedtohersewing.

“onecanseehe’sbeenverybadlybroughtup.hewantslickingintoshape.”  onthesecondsundayafterphiliparrivedanunluckyincidentoccurred.mr.careyhadretiredasusualafterdinnerforalittlesnoozeinthedrawing-room,buthewasinanirritablemoodandcouldnotsleep.josiahgravesthatmorninghadobjectedstronglytosomecandlestickswithwhichthevicarhadadornedthealtar.hehadboughtthemsecond-handintercanbury,andhethoughttheylookedverywell.butjosiahgravessaidtheywerepopish.thiswasatauntthatalwaysarousedthevicar.hehadbeenatoxfordduringthemovementwhichendedinthesecessionfromtheestablishedchurchofedwardmanning,andhefeltacertainsympathyforthechurchofrome.hewouldwillinglyhavemadetheservicemoreornatethanhadbeenusualinthelow-churchparishofblackstable,andinhissecretsoulheyearnedforprocessionsandlightedcandles.hedrewthelineatincense.hehatedthewordprotestant.hecalledhimselfacatholic.hewasaccustomedtosaythatpapistsrequiredanepithet,theywereromancatholic;butthechurchofenglandwascatholicinthebest,thefullest,andthenoblestsenseoftheterm.hewaspleasedtothinkthathisshavenfacegavehimthelookofapriest,andinhisyouthhehadpossessedanasceticairwhichaddedtotheimpression.heoftenrelatedthatononeofhisholidaysinboulogne,oneofthoseholidaysuponwhichhiswifeforeconomy’ssakedidnotaccompanyhim,whenhewassittinginachurch,thecurehadcomeuptohimandinvitedhimtopreachasermon.hedismissedhiscurateswhentheymarried,havingdecidedviewsonthecelibacyoftheunbeneficedclergy.butwhenatanelectiontheliberalshadwrittenonhisgardenfenceinlargeblueletters:thiswaytorome,hehadbeenveryangry,andthreatenedtoprosecutetheleadersoftheliberalpartyinblackstable.hemadeuphismindnowthatnothingjosiahgravessaidwouldinducehimtoremovethecandlesticksfromthealtar,andhemutteredbismarcktohimselfonceortwiceirritably.

suddenlyheheardanunexpectednoise.hepulledthehandkerchiefoffhisface,gotupfromthesofaonwhichhewaslying,andwentintothedining-room.philipwasseatedonthetablewithallhisbricksaroundhim.hehadbuiltamonstrouscastle,andsomedefectinthefoundationhadjustbroughtthestructuredowninnoisyruin.

“whatareyoudoingwiththosebricks,philip?youknowyou’renotallowedtoplaygamesonsunday.”

philipstaredathimforamomentwithfrightenedeyes,and,ashishabitwas,flusheddeeply.

“ialwaysusedtoplayathome,”heanswered.

“i’msureyourdearmammaneverallowedyoutodosuchawickedthingasthat.”

philipdidnotknowitwaswicked;butifitwas,hedidnotwishittobesupposedthathismotherhadconsentedtoit.hehunghisheadanddidnotanswer.

“don’tyouknowit’svery,verywickedtoplayonsunday?whatd’yousupposeit’scalledthedayofrestfor?you’regoingtochurchtonight,andhowcanyoufaceyourmakerwhenyou’vebeenbreakingoneofhislawsintheafternoon?”

mr.careytoldhimtoputthebricksawayatonce,andstoodoverhimwhilephilipdidso.

“you’reaverynaughtyboy,”herepeated.“thinkofthegriefyou’recausingyourpoormotherinheaven.”

philipfeltinclinedtocry,buthehadaninstinctivedisinclinationtolettingotherpeopleseehistears,andheclenchedhisteethtopreventthesobsfromescaping.mr.careysatdowninhisarm-chairandbegantoturnoverthepagesofabook.philipstoodatthewindow.thevicaragewassetbackfromthehighroadtotercanbury,andfromthedining-roomonesawasemicircularstripoflawnandthenasfarasthehorizongreenfields.sheepweregrazinginthem.theskywasforlornandgray.philipfeltinfinitelyunhappy.

presentlymaryanncameintolaythetea,andauntlouisadescendedthestairs.

“haveyouhadanicelittlenap,william?”sheasked.

“no,”heanswered.“philipmadesomuchnoisethaticouldn’tsleepawink.”

thiswasnotquiteaccurate,forhehadbeenkeptawakebyhisownthoughts;andphilip,listeningsullenly,reflectedthathehadonlymadeanoiseonce,andtherewasnoreasonwhyhisuncleshouldnothavesleptbeforeorafter.whenmrs.careyaskedforanexplanationthevicarnarratedthefacts.

“hehasn’tevensaidhewassorry,”hefinished.

“oh,philip,i’msureyou’resorry,”saidmrs.carey,anxiousthatthechildshouldnotseemwickedertohisunclethanneedbe.

philipdidnotreply.hewentonmunchinghisbreadandbutter.hedidnotknowwhatpoweritwasinhimthatpreventedhimfrommakinganyexpressionofregret.hefelthisearstingling,hewasalittleinclinedtocry,butnowordwouldissuefromhislips.

“youneedn’tmakeitworsebysulking,”saidmr.carey.

teawasfinishedinsilence.mrs.careylookedatphilipsurreptitiouslynowandthen,butthevicarelaboratelyignoredhim.whenphilipsawhisunclegoupstairstogetreadyforchurchhewentintothehallandgothishatandcoat,butwhenthevicarcamedownstairsandsawhim,hesaid:

“idon’twishyoutogotochurchtonight,philip.idon’tthinkyou’reinaproperframeofmindtoenterthehouseofgod.”

philipdidnotsayaword.hefeltitwasadeephumiliationthatwasplaceduponhim,andhischeeksreddened.hestoodsilentlywatchinghisuncleputonhisbroadhatandhisvoluminouscloak.mrs.careyasusualwenttothedoortoseehimoff.thensheturnedtophilip.

“nevermind,philip,youwon’tbeanaughtyboynextsunday,willyou,andthenyourunclewilltakeyoutochurchwithhimintheevening.”

shetookoffhishatandcoat,andledhimintothedining-room.

“shallyouandireadtheservicetogether,philip,andwe’llsingthehymnsattheharmonium.would

youlikethat?”

philipshookhisheaddecidedly.mrs.careywastakenaback.ifhewouldnotreadtheeveningservicewithhershedidnotknowwhattodowithhim.

“thenwhatwouldyouliketodountilyourunclecomesback?”sheaskedhelplessly.

philipbrokehissilenceatlast.

“iwanttobeleftalone,”hesaid.

“philip,howcanyousayanythingsounkind?don’tyouknowthatyouruncleandionlywantyourgood?don’tyoulovemeatall?”

“ihateyou.iwishyouwasdead.”

mrs.careygasped.hesaidthewordssosavagelythatitgaveherquiteastart.shehadnothingtosay.shesatdowninherhusband’schair;andasshethoughtofherdesiretolovethefriendless,crippledboyandhereagerwishthatheshouldloveher—shewasabarrenwomanand,eventhoughitwasclearlygod’swillthatsheshouldbechildless,shecouldscarcelybeartolookatlittlechildrensometimes,herheartachedso—thetearsrosetohereyesandonebyone,slowly,rolleddownhercheeks.philipwatchedherinamazement.shetookoutherhandkerchief,andnowshecriedwithoutrestraint.suddenlyphiliprealisedthatshewascryingbecauseofwhathehadsaid,andhewassorry.hewentuptohersilentlyandkissedher.itwasthefirstkisshehadevergivenherwithoutbeingasked.andthepoorlady,sosmallinherblacksatin,shrivelledupandsallow,withherfunnycorkscrewcurls,tookthelittleboyonherlapandputherarmsaroundhimandweptasthoughherheartwouldbreak.buthertearswerepartlytearsofhappiness,forshefeltthatthestrangenessbetweenthemwasgone.shelovedhimnowwithanewlovebecausehehadmadehersuffer.