Chapter IV

by William Somerset Maugham

　　Philip parted from Emma with tears, but the journey to Blackstable amusedhim, and, when they arrived, he was resigned and cheerful. Blackstable wassixty miles from London. Giving their luggage to a porter, Mr. Carey setout to walk with Philip to the vicarage; it took them little more thanfive minutes, and, when they reached it, Philip suddenly remembered thegate. It was red and five-barred: it swung both ways on easy hinges; andit was possible, though forbidden, to swing backwards and forwards on it.They walked through the garden to the front-door. This was only used byvisitors and on Sundays, and on special occasions, as when the Vicar wentup to London or came back. The traffic of the house took place through aside-door, and there was a back door as well for the gardener and forbeggars and tramps. It was a fairly large house of yellow brick, with ared roof, built about five and twenty years before in an ecclesiasticalstyle. The front-door was like a church porch, and the drawing-roomwindows were gothic.Mrs. Carey, knowing by what train they were coming, waited in thedrawing-room and listened for the click of the gate. When she heard it shewent to the door."There's Aunt Louisa," said Mr. Carey, when he saw her. "Run and give hera kiss."Philip started to run, awkwardly, trailing his club-foot, and thenstopped. Mrs. Carey was a little, shrivelled woman of the same age as herhusband, with a face extraordinarily filled with deep wrinkles, and paleblue eyes. Her gray hair was arranged in ringlets according to the fashionof her youth. She wore a black dress, and her only ornament was a goldchain, from which hung a cross. She had a shy manner and a gentle voice."Did you walk, William?" she said, almost reproachfully, as she kissed herhusband."I didn't think of it," he answered, with a glance at his nephew."It didn't hurt you to walk, Philip, did it?" she asked the child."No. I always walk."He was a little surprised at their conversation. Aunt Louisa told him tocome in, and they entered the hall. It was paved with red and yellowtiles, on which alternately were a Greek Cross and the Lamb of God. Animposing staircase led out of the hall. It was of polished pine, with apeculiar smell, and had been put in because fortunately, when the churchwas reseated, enough wood remained over. The balusters were decorated withemblems of the Four Evangelists."I've had the stove lighted as I thought you'd be cold after yourjourney," said Mrs. Carey.It was a large black stove that stood in the hall and was only lighted ifthe weather was very bad and the Vicar had a cold. It was not lighted ifMrs. Carey had a cold. Coal was expensive. Besides, Mary Ann, the maid,didn't like fires all over the place. If they wanted all them fires theymust keep a second girl. In the winter Mr. and Mrs. Carey lived in thedining-room so that one fire should do, and in the summer they could notget out of the habit, so the drawing-room was used only by Mr. Carey onSunday afternoons for his nap. But every Saturday he had a fire in thestudy so that he could write his sermon.Aunt Louisa took Philip upstairs and showed him into a tiny bed-room thatlooked out on the drive. Immediately in front of the window was a largetree, which Philip remembered now because the branches were so low that itwas possible to climb quite high up it."A small room for a small boy," said Mrs. Carey. "You won't be frightenedat sleeping alone?""Oh, no."On his first visit to the vicarage he had come with his nurse, and Mrs.Carey had had little to do with him. She looked at him now with someuncertainty."Can you wash your own hands, or shall I wash them for you?""I can wash myself," he answered firmly."Well, I shall look at them when you come down to tea," said Mrs. Carey.She knew nothing about children. After it was settled that Philip shouldcome down to Blackstable, Mrs. Carey had thought much how she should treathim; she was anxious to do her duty; but now he was there she foundherself just as shy of him as he was of her. She hoped he would not benoisy and rough, because her husband did not like rough and noisy boys.Mrs. Carey made an excuse to leave Philip alone, but in a moment came backand knocked at the door; she asked him, without coming in, if he couldpour out the water himself. Then she went downstairs and rang the bell fortea.The dining-room, large and well-proportioned, had windows on two sides ofit, with heavy curtains of red rep; there was a big table in the middle;and at one end an imposing mahogany sideboard with a looking-glass in it.In one corner stood a harmonium. On each side of the fireplace were chairscovered in stamped leather, each with an antimacassar; one had arms andwas called the husband, and the other had none and was called the wife.Mrs. Carey never sat in the arm-chair: she said she preferred a chair thatwas not too comfortable; there was always a lot to do, and if her chairhad had arms she might not be so ready to leave it.Mr. Carey was making up the fire when Philip came in, and he pointed outto his nephew that there were two pokers. One was large and bright andpolished and unused, and was called the Vicar; and the other, which wasmuch smaller and had evidently passed through many fires, was called theCurate."What are we waiting for?" said Mr. Carey."I told Mary Ann to make you an egg. I thought you'd be hungry after yourjourney."Mrs. Carey thought the journey from London to Blackstable very tiring. Sheseldom travelled herself, for the living was only three hundred a year,and, when her husband wanted a holiday, since there was not money for two,he went by himself. He was very fond of Church Congresses and usuallymanaged to go up to London once a year; and once he had been to Paris forthe exhibition, and two or three times to Switzerland. Mary Ann brought inthe egg, and they sat down. The chair was much too low for Philip, and fora moment neither Mr. Carey nor his wife knew what to do."I'll put some books under him," said Mary Ann.She took from the top of the harmonium the large Bible and the prayer-bookfrom which the Vicar was accustomed to read prayers, and put them onPhilip's chair."Oh, William, he can't sit on the Bible," said Mrs. Carey, in a shockedtone. "Couldn't you get him some books out of the study?"Mr. Carey considered the question for an instant."I don't think it matters this once if you put the prayer-book on the top,Mary Ann," he said. "The book of Common Prayer is the composition of menlike ourselves. It has no claim to divine authorship.""I hadn't thought of that, William," said Aunt Louisa.Philip perched himself on the books, and the Vicar, having said grace, cutthe top off his egg."There," he said, handing it to Philip, "you can eat my top if you like."Philip would have liked an egg to himself, but he was not offered one, sotook what he could."How have the chickens been laying since I went away?" asked the Vicar."Oh, they've been dreadful, only one or two a day.""How did you like that top, Philip?" asked his uncle."Very much, thank you.""You shall have another one on Sunday afternoon."Mr. Carey always had a boiled egg at tea on Sunday, so that he might befortified for the evening service.