e and
asked him to come and see her, in terms that awakened his curiosity. When
he came she broached the subject of Mr Allaby's failing health, and after
the smoothing away of such difficulties as were only Mrs Cowey's due,
considering the interest she had taken, it was allowed to come to pass
that Theobald should go to Crampsford for six successive Sundays and take
the half of Mr Allaby's duty at half a guinea a Sunday, for Mrs Cowey cut
down the usual stipend mercilessly, and Theobald was not strong enough to
resist.

Ignorant of the plots which were being prepared for his peace of mind and
with no idea beyond that of earning his three guineas, and perhaps of
astonishing the inhabitants of Crampsford by his academic learning,
Theobald walked over to the Rectory one Sunday morning early in
December--a few weeks only after he had been ordained. He had taken a
great deal of pains with his sermon, which was on the subject of
geology--then coming to the fore as a theological bugbear. He showed
that so far as geology was worth anything at all--and he was too liberal
entirely to pooh-pooh it--it confirmed the absolutely historical
character of the Mosaic account of the Creation as given in Genesis. Any
phenomena which at first sight appeared to make against this view were
only partial phenomena and broke down upon investigation. Nothing could
be in more excellent taste, and when Theobald adjourned to the rectory,
where he was to dine between the services, Mr Allaby complimented him
warmly upon his debut, while the ladies of the family could hardly find
words with which to express their admiration.

Theobald knew nothing about women. The only women he had been thrown in
contact with were his sisters, two of whom were always correcting him,
and a few school friends whom these had got their father to ask to
Elmhurst. These young ladies had either been so shy that they and
Theobald had never amalgamated, or they had been supposed to be clever
and had said smart things to him. He did not say smart things himself
and did not want other people to say them. Besides, they talked about
music--and he hated music--or pictures--and he hated pictures--or
books--and except the classics he hated books. And then sometimes he was
wanted to dance with them, and he did not know how to dance, and did not
want to know.

At Mrs Cowey's parties again he had seen some young ladies and had been
introduced to them. He had tried to make h