Der Praefekt

unhappy, and yet
    she did not feel herself triumphant.  Everything would run smooth now.
    Eleanor was not at all addicted to the Lydian school of romance; she
    by no means objected to her lover because he came in at the door under
    the name of Absolute, instead of pulling her out of a window under the
    name of Beverley; and yet she felt that she had been imposed upon, and
    could hardly think of Mary Bold with sisterly charity.  “I did think
    I could have trusted Mary,” she said to herself over and over again.
    “Oh that she should have dared to keep me in the room when I tried to
    get out!”  Eleanor, however, felt that the game was up, and that she
    had now nothing further to do but to add to the budget of news which
    was prepared for her father, that John Bold was her accepted lover.
     
    We will, however, now leave her on her way, and go with John Bold to
    Plumstead Episcopi, merely premising that Eleanor on reaching home
    will not find things so smooth as she fondly expected; two messengers
    had come, one to her father and the other to the archdeacon, and
    each of them much opposed to her quiet mode of solving all their
    difficulties; the one in the shape of a number of _The Jupiter_, and
    the other in that of a further opinion from Sir Abraham Haphazard.
     
    John Bold got on his horse and rode off to Plumstead Episcopi; not
    briskly and with eager spur, as men do ride when self-satisfied with
    their own intentions; but slowly, modestly, thoughtfully, and somewhat
    in dread of the coming interview.  Now and again he would recur to the
    scene which was just over, support himself by the remembrance of the
    silence that gives consent, and exult as a happy lover.  But even this
    feeling was not without a shade of remorse.  Had he not shown himself
    childishly weak thus to yield up the resolve of many hours of thought
    to the tears of a pretty girl?  How was he to meet his lawyer?
    How was he to back out of a matter in which his name was already so
    publicly concerned?  What, oh what! was he to say to Tom Towers?
    While meditating these painful things he reached the lodge leading up
    to the archdeacon’s glebe, and for the first time in his life found
    himself within the sacred precincts.
     
    All the doctor’s children were together on the slope of the lawn,
    close to the road, as Bold rode up to the hall door.  They were there
    holding high debate on matters evidently of deep interest at Plumstead
    Episcopi, and the voices of the boys had been heard before the lodge
    gate was closed.
     
    Florinda and Grizzel, frightened at the sight of so well-known an
    enemy to the family, fled on the first appearance of the horseman,
    and ran in terror to their mother’s arms; not for them was it, tender
    branches, to resent injuries, or as members of a church militant to
    put on armour against its enemies.  But the boys stood their ground
    like heroes, and boldly demanded the business of the intruder.
     
    “Do you want to see anybody here, sir?” said Henry, with a defiant eye
    and a hostile tone, which plainly said that at any rate no one there
    wanted to see the person so addressed; and as he spoke he brandished
    aloft his garden water-pot, holding it by the spout, ready for the
    braining of anyone.
     
    “Henry,” said Charles James slowly, and with a certain dignity of
    diction, “Mr Bold of course would not have come without wanting to see
    someone; if Mr Bold has a proper ground for wanting to see some person
    here, of course he has a right to come.”
     
    But Samuel stepped lightly up to the horse’s head, and offered his
    Dienstleistungen. “Oh, Mr Bold,” said he, “papa, I’m sure, will be glad to
    see you; I suppose you want to see papa.  Shall I hold your horse for
    Sie? Oh what a very pretty horse!” and he turned his head and winked
    funnily at his brothers.  “Papa has heard such good news about the old
    hospital to-day.  We know you’ll be glad to hear it, because you’re
    such a friend of grandpapa Harding, and so much in love with Aunt
    Nelly!”
     
    “How d’ye do, lads?” said Bold, dismounting.  “I want to see your
    father if he’s at home.”
     
    “Lads!” said Henry, turning on his heel and addressing himself to his
    brother, but loud enough to be heard by Bold; “lads, indeed! if we’re
    lads, what does he call himself?”
     
    Charles James condescended to say nothing further, but cocked his hat
    with much precision, and left the visitor to the care of