r money.'
'Ah!'
'He says he will call on you.'
Joshua replied resignedly. The theme of their conversation spoilt his
buoyancy for that afternoon. He returned in the evening, Cornelius
accompanying him to the station; but he did not read in the train which
took him back to the Fountall Theological College, as he had done on the
way out. That ineradicable trouble still remained as a squalid spot in
the expanse of his life. He sat with the other students in the cathedral
choir next day; and the recollection of the trouble obscured the purple
splendour thrown by the panes upon the floor.
It was afternoon. All was as still in the Close as a cathedral-green can
be between the Sunday services, and the incessant cawing of the rooks was
the only sound. Joshua Halborough had finished his ascetic lunch, and
had gone into the library, where he stood for a few moments looking out
of the large window facing the green. He saw walking slowly across it a
man in a fustian coat and a battered white hat with a much-ruffled nap,
having upon his arm a tall gipsy-woman wearing long brass earrings. The
man was staring quizzically at the west front of the cathedral, and
Halborough recognized in him the form and features of his father. Who
the woman was he knew not. Almost as soon as Joshua became conscious of
these things, the sub-dean, who was also the principal of the college,
and of whom the young man stood in more awe than of the Bishop himself,
emerged from the gate and entered a path across the Close. The pair met
the dignitary, and to Joshua's horror his father turned and addressed the
sub-dean.
What passed between them he could not tell. But as he stood in a cold
sweat he saw his father place his hand familiarly on the sub-dean's
shoulder; the shrinking response of the latter, and his quick withdrawal,
told his feeling. The woman seemed to say nothing, but when the sub-dean
had passed by they came on towards the college gate.
Halborough flew along the corridor and out at a side door, so as to
intercept them before they could reach the front entrance, for which they
were making. He caught them behind a clump of laurel.
'By Jerry, here's the very chap! Well, you're a fine fellow, Jos, never
to send your father as much as a twist o' baccy on such an occasion, and
to leave him to travel all these miles to find ye out!'
'First, who is this?' said Joshua Halborough with pale dignity, waving
his hand towards the
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