The grandeur of being an invited guest to dinner at the Towers from time to time, gave him but little pleasure for many years, but it was a form to be gone through in the way of his profession, without any idea of social gratification.But when Lord Hollingford returned to make the Towers his home, affairs were altered.Mr Gibson really heard and learnt things that interested him seriously, and that gave a fresh flavour to his reading.From time to time he met the leaders of the scientific world; odd-looking, ******-hearted men, very much in earnest about their own particular subjects, and not having much to say on any other.Mr Gibson found himself capable of appreciating such persons, and also perceived that they valued his appreciation, as it was honestly and intelligently given.Indeed, by-and-by, he began to send contributions of his own to the more scientific of the medical journals, and thus partly in receiving, partly in giving out information and accurate thought, a new zest was added to his life.There was not much intercourse between Lord Hollingford and himself; the one was too silent and shy, the other too busy, to seek each other's society with the perseverance required to do away with the social distinction of rank that prevented their frequent meetings.But each was thoroughly pleased to come into contact with the other.Each could rely on the other's respect and sympathy with a security unknown to many who call themselves friends; and this was a source of happiness to both; to Mr Gibson the most so, of course; for his range of intelligent and cultivated society was the smaller.Indeed, there was no one equal to himself among the men with whom he associated, and this he had felt as a depressing influence, although he had never recognized the cause of his depression.There was Mr Ashton, the vicar, who had succeeded Mr Browning, a thoroughly good and kind-hearted man, but one without an original thought in him; whose habitual courtesy and indolent mind led him to agree to every opinion, not palpably heterodox, and to utter platitudes in the most gentlemanly manner.Mr Gibson had once or twice amused himself, by leading the vicar on in his agreeable admissions of arguments 'as perfectly convincing,'
and of statements as 'curious but undoubted,' till he had planted the poor clergyman in a bog of heretical bewilderment.But then Mr Ashton's pain and suffering at suddenly finding out into what a theological predicament he had been brought, his real self-reproach at his previous admissions, were so great that Mr Gibson lost all sense of fun, and hastened back to the Thirty-nine Articles with all the good-will in life, as the only means of soothing the vicar's conscience.On any other subject, except that of orthodoxy, Mr Gibson could lead him any lengths; but then his ignorance on most of them prevented bland acquiescence from arriving at any results which could startle him.He had some private fortune, and was not married, and lived the life of an indolent and refined bachelor; but though he himself was no very active visitor among his poorer parishioners, he was always willing to relieve their wants in the most liberal, and, considering his habits, occasionally in the most self-denying manner, whenever Mr Gibson, or any one else, made them clearly known to him.'Use my purse as freely as if it was your own, Gibson,' he was wont to say.'I'm such a bad one at going about and ****** talk to poor folk - I dare say I don't do enough in that way - but I am most willing to give you anything for any one you may consider in want.' 'Thank you; I come upon you pretty often, I believe, and make very little scruple about it; but if you'll allow me to suggest, it is, that you should not try to make talk when you go into the cottages; but just talk.' 'I don't see the difference,' said the vicar, a little querulously; 'but I dare say there is a difference, and I have no doubt what you say is quite true.I should not make talk, but talk; and as both are equally difficult to me, you must let me purchase the privilege of silence by this ten-pound note.' 'Thank you.It is not so satisfactory to me; and, I should think, not to yourself.But probably the Joneses and Greens will prefer it.' Mr Ashton would look with plaintive inquiry into Mr Gibson's face after some such speech, as if asking if a sarca** was intended.On the whole they went on in the most amicable way; only beyond the gregarious feeling common to most men, they had very little actual pleasure in each other's society.Perhaps the man of all others to whom Mr Gibson took the most kindly - at least, until Lord Hollingford came into the neighbourhood -was a certain Squire Hamley.He and his ancestors had been called squire as long back as local tradition extended.But there was many a greater landowner in the county, for Squire Hamley's estate was not more than eight hundred acres or so.But his family had been in possession of it long before the Earls of Cumnor had been heard of; before the Hely-Harrisons had bought Coldstone Park; no one in Hollingford knew the time when the Hamleys had not lived at Hamley.'Ever since the Heptarchy,' said the vicar.'Nay,'
said Miss Browning, 'I have heard that there were Hamleys of Hamley before the Romans.' The vicar was preparing a polite assent, when Mrs Goodenough came in with a still more startling assertion.'I have always heerd,' said she, with all the slow authority of an oldest inhabitant, 'that there was Hamleys of Hamley afore the time of the pagans.' Mr Ashton could only bow, and say, 'Possibly, very possibly, madam.' But he said it in so courteous a manner that Mrs Goodenough looked round in a gratified manner, as much as to say, 'The Church confirms my words; who now will dare dispute them?'
