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<title>XXV: Tea</title>
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<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XXV</h2>
<p epub:type="title">Tea</p>
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<p>Now here was a business! The typical Anglican and the typical Dissenter, as Phoebe said, with only that clever young woman to keep them from flying at each other’s throats; the one obstinately holding his place by her side (and Phoebe began to have a slight consciousness that, being without any chaperon, she ought not to have kept Reginald May at her side; but in the Tozer world, who knew anything of chaperons?), the other advancing steadily, coming up the Lane out of the glow of the sunset, showing square against it in his frock-coat and high hat, formal and demagogical, not like his rival. The situation pleased Phoebe, who liked to “manage;” but it slightly frightened her as well, though the open door behind, and the long garden with its clouds of crocuses, was a city of refuge always within reach.</p>
<p>“Is it really you, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Northcote?” she said. “You look as if you had dropped out of that lovely sunset I have been watching so long—and I thought you were at the other end of the world.”</p>
<p>“I have been at the other end of England, which comes to the same thing,” said Northcote, in a voice which was harsh by nature, and somewhat rough with cold; “and now they have sent me back to Salem Chapel, to take <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Thorpe’s place for three months. They asked for me, I believe; but that you must know better than I do.”</p>
<p>It was not in the nature of man not to be a little proud in the circumstances, and it is quite possible that he considered Phoebe to have something to do with the flattering request.</p>
<p>“No, I have not heard; but I am glad,” said Phoebe; “and if it is not wicked to say so, I am glad <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Thorpe is to be away. Let us hope it will do him good. I am sure it will do the rest of us good, at all events.”</p>
<p>Northcote made no answer; but he looked at the other, and several questions began to tremble on his lips. That this was a Churchman did not immediately occur to him; for, indeed, various young pastors of his own body put on the livery which he himself abjured, and the sight of it as a servile copy filled him with a certain contempt.</p>
<p>“<abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> May has been stopped in his way by the beauty of the skies,” said Phoebe, rather enjoying the position as she got used to it. “<abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Northcote—<abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> May. It is not easy to pass such an exhibition as that, is it?—and given to us all for love, and nothing for reward,” she added; for she was a well read young woman, and did not hesitate to suffer this to appear.</p>
<p>And then there was a momentary pause. Northcote was confused, it must be allowed, by thus coming face to face, without previous warning, with the man whom he had so violently assailed. Reginald had the best of it in every way, for he was the man injured, and had it in his power to be magnanimous; and he had the advantage of full warning, and had prepared himself. Besides, was not he the superior by every social rule? And that consciousness is always sweet.</p>
<p>“If <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Northcote is new to Carlingford, he will probably not know what a fine point of view we have here. That, like so many other things,” said Reginald, pointedly, “wants a little personal experience to find it out.”</p>
<p>“For that matter, to see it once is as good as seeing it a hundred times,” said Northcote, somewhat sharply; for to give in was the very last thing he thought of. A little glow of anger came over him. He thought Phoebe had prepared this ordeal for him, and he was vexed, not only because she had done it, but because his sense of discomfiture might afford a kind of triumph to that party in the connection which was disposed, as he expressed it, to “toady the Church.”</p>
<p>“Pardon me, I don’t think you can judge of anything at a first view.”</p>
<p>“And, pardon me, I think you see everything most sharply and clearly at a first view,” said the Nonconformist, who was the loudest; “certainly in all matters of principle. After a while, you are persuaded against your will to modify this opinion and that, to pare off a little here, and tolerate a little there. Your first view is the most correct.”</p>
<p>“Well,” said Phoebe, throwing herself into the breach, “I am glad you don’t agree, for the argument is interesting. Will you come in and fight it out? You shall have some tea, which will be pleasant, for it shall be hot. I really cannot stay out any longer; it is freezing here.”</p>
<p>The newcomer prepared to follow; but Reginald hesitated. Pride whispered that to go into the house of Tozer, the butterman, was something monstrous; but then it might be amusing. This “Dissenting fellow,” no doubt, was a drawback; but a kind of angry antagonism and disdain half-attracted him even to the Dissenting fellow. It might be well, on the whole, to see what kind of being such a person was. All curious phenomena are attractive to a student. “The proper study of mankind is man,” Reginald said to himself. Before he had got through this little argument with himself, Phoebe had gone in, and Northcote, whose disgust at the interposition of an adversary had no such softening of curiosity, followed her abruptly, without any of those graces which are current in society. This rudeness offended the other, who was about to walk on indignant, when Phoebe turned back, and looked out at him from the open door.</p>
<p>“Are not you coming, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> May?” she said softly, looking at him with the least little shrug of her shoulders.</p>
<p>Reginald yielded without further resistance. But he felt fully that to see him, the chaplain of the old College, walking down through Tozer’s garden, between the two rows of closed-up crocuses which glimmered ghostly by the side of the path, was one of the strangest sights in the world.</p>
<p>Phoebe, to tell the truth, was a little confused as to where to convey her captive, out of whom she meant to get a little amusement for the long winter afternoon. For a girl of her active mind, it may easily be imagined that a succession of long days with <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Tozer was somewhat monotonous. She did her duty like a hero, and never complained; but still, if a little amusement was possible, it was worth having. She carried in her two young men as naughty boys carry stag-beetles, or other such small deer. If they would fight it would be fun; and if they would not fight, why, it might be fun still, and more amusing than grandmamma. She hesitated between the chilly drawing-room, where a fire was lighted, but where there was no evidence of human living, and the cozy parlour, where <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Tozer sat in her best cap, still wheezy, but convalescent, waiting for her tea, and not indisposed to receive such deputations of the community as might come to ask for her. Finally, Phoebe opened the door of that sanctuary, which was dazzling with bright firelight after the gloom outside. It was a very comfortable interior, arranged by Phoebe to suit her own ideas rather than those of grandmamma, though grandmamma’s comfort had been her chief object. The tea-things were sparkling upon the table, the kettle singing by the fire, and <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Tozer half-dozing in the tranquillity and warmth.</p>
<p>“Grandmamma, I have brought <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> May and <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Northcote to see you,” she said.</p>
<p>The poor old lady almost sprang from her chair in amazement.</p>
<p>“Lord bless us, Phoebe, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> May!”</p>
<p>“Don’t disturb yourself, grandmamma; they will find seats. Yes, we were all looking at the sunset, and as I knew tea must be ready—I know you want it, dear granny—I asked them to have some. Here it is, as I told you, quite hot, and very fragrant this cold night. How cold it is outside! I think it will freeze, and that skating may come off at last, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> May, that you were talking of, you remember? You were to teach your sisters to skate.”</p>
<p>“Yes, with the advantage of your example.”</p>
<p>Reginald had put himself in a corner, as far away as possible from the old woman in the chair. His voice, he felt, had caught a formal tone. As for the other, his antagonist, he had assumed the front of the battle—even, in Tozer’s absence, he had ventured to assume the front of the fire. He was not the sort of man Reginald had expected, almost hoped to see—a fleshy man, loosely put together, according to the nature, so far as he knew it, of Dissenters; but a firmly knit, clean-limbed young man, with crisp hair curling about his head, and a gleam of energy and spirit in his eye. The gentler Anglican felt by no means sure of a speedy victory, even of an intellectual kind. The young man before him did not look a slight antagonist. They glared at each other, measuring their strength; they did not know, indeed, that they had been brought in here to this warmth and light, like the stag-beetles, to make a little amusement for Phoebe; but they were quite ready to fight all the same.</p>
<p>“<abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Northcote, sir, I’m glad to see you. Now this is friendly; this is what I calls as it should be, when a young pastor comes in and makes free, without waiting for an invitation,” said Tozer kindly, bustling in; “that speech of yours, sir, was a rouser; that ’it ’em off, that did, and you can see as the connection ain’t ungrateful. What’s that you say, Phoebe? what? I’m a little hard of hearing. <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr>—May!”</p>
<p>“<abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> May was good enough to come in with me, grandpapa. We met at the door. We have mutual friends, and you know how kind Miss May has been,” said Phoebe, trembling with sudden fright, while Reginald, pale with rage and embarrassment, stood up in his corner. Tozer was embarrassed too. He cleared his throat and rubbed his hands, with a terrible inclination to raise one of them to his forehead. It was all that he could do to get over this class instinct. Young May, though he had been delighted to hear him assailed in the Meeting, was a totally different visitor from the clever young pastor whom he received with a certain consciousness of patronage. Tozer did not know that the Northcotes were infinitely richer, and quite as wellborn and well-bred in their ways as the Mays, and that his young Dissenting brother was a more costly production, as well as a more wealthy man, than the young chaplain in his long coat; but if he had known this it would have made no difference. His relation to the one was semi-servile, to the other condescending and superior. In Reginald May’s presence, he was but a butterman who supplied the family; but to Horace Northcote he was an influential member of society, with power over a Minister’s individual fate.</p>
<p>“I assure you, sir, as I’m proud to see you in my house,” he said, with a duck of his head, and an ingratiating but uncomfortable smile. “Your father, I hope, as he’s well, sir, and all the family? We are a kind of neighbours now; not as we’d think of taking anything upon us on account of living in Grange Lane. But Phoebe here—Phoebe, junior, as we call’s her—she’s a cut above us, and I’m proud to see any of her friends in my ’umble ’ouse. My good lady, sir,” added Tozer, with another duck, indicating with a wave of his hand his wife, who had already once risen, wheezy, but knowing her manners, to make a kind of half-bow, half-curtsey from her chair.</p>
<p>“You are very kind,” said Reginald, feeling himself blush furiously, and not knowing what to say. The other young man stood with his back to the fire, and a sneer, which he intended to look like a smile, on his face.</p>
<p>And as for Phoebe, it must be allowed that, notwithstanding all her resources, even she was exquisitely uncomfortable for a minute or two. The young people all felt this, but to Tozer it seemed that he had managed everything beautifully, and a sense of elation stole over him. To be visited in this manner by the gentry, “making free,” and “quite in a friendly way,” was an honour he had never looked for. He turned to Northcote with great affability and friendliness.</p>
<p>“Well,” he said, “<abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Northcote, sir, it can’t be denied as this is a strange meeting; you and <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> May, as mightn’t be, perhaps, just the best of friends, to meet quite comfortable over a cup of tea. But ain’t it the very best thing that could happen? Men has their public opinions, sir, as everyone should speak up bold for, and stick to; that’s my way of thinking. But I wouldn’t bring it no farther; not, as might be said, into the domestic circle. I’m clean against that. You say your say in public, whatever you may think on a subject, but you don’t bear no malice; it ain’t a personal question; them’s my sentiments. And I don’t know nothing more elevatin’, nothing more consolin’, than for two public opponents, as you may say, to meet like this quite cozy and comfortable over a cup o’ tea.”</p>
<p>“It is a pleasure, I assure you, which I appreciate highly,” said Reginald, finding his voice.</p>
<p>“And which fills me with delight and satisfaction,” said Northcote. Those stag-beetles which Phoebe, so to speak, had carried in in her handkerchief, were only too ready to fight.</p>
<p>“You had better have some tea first,” she said breathless, “before you talk so much of its good effects. Sit down, grandpapa, and have your muffin while it is hot; I know that is what you like. Do you care about china, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> May? but everyone cares for china nowadays. Look at that cup, and fancy grandmamma having this old service in use without knowing how valuable it is. Cream Wedgwood! You may fancy how I stared when I saw it; and in everyday use! most people put it up on brackets, when they are so lucky as to possess any. Tell <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> May, grandmamma, how you picked it up. <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Northcote, there is an article in this review that I want you to look at. Papa sent it to me. It is too metaphysical for me, but I know you are great in metaphysics—”</p>
<p>“I am greater in china; may not I look at the Wedgwood first?”</p>
<p>“Perhaps you will turn over the literature to me,” said Reginald, “reviews are more in my way than teacups, though I say it with confusion. I know how much I am behind my age.”</p>
<p>“And I too,” whispered Phoebe, behind the book which she had taken up. “Don’t tell anyone. It is rare, I know; and everybody likes to have something that is rare; but I don’t really care for it the least in the world. I have seen some bits of Italian faience indeed—but English pottery is not like Italian, any more than English skies.”</p>
<p>“You have the advantage of me, Miss Beecham, both as regards the pottery and the skies.”</p>
<p>“Ah, if it is an advantage; bringing poetry down to prose is not always an advantage, is it? Italy is such a dream—so long as one has never been there.”</p>
<p>“Yes, it is a dream,” said Reginald, with enthusiasm, “to everybody, I think; but when one has little money and much work all one’s life—poverty stands in the way of all kinds of enjoyment.”</p>
<p>“Poverty is a nice friendly sort of thing; a ground we can all meet on,” said Phoebe. “But don’t let us say that to grandpapa. How odd people are! he knows you are not Croesus, but still he has a sort of feeling that you are a young prince, and do him the greatest honour in coming to his house; and yet, all the same, he thinks that money is the very grandest thing in existence. See what prejudice is! He would not allow that he had any class-reverence, and yet he can no more get rid of it—”</p>
<p>“Miss Beecham, it is very difficult for me to say anything on such a subject.”</p>
<p>“Very difficult, and you show your delicacy by not saying anything. But you know, apart from this, which is not gratifying, I am rather proud of grandpapa’s way of looking at some things. About saying out your opinions in public, and yet bearing no malice, for instance. Now, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Northcote is the very Antipodes to you; therefore you ought to know him and find out what he means. It would be better for you both. That is what I call enlarging the mind,” said Phoebe with a smile; which was, to tell the truth, a very pretty smile, and filled with a soft lustre the blue eyes with which she looked at him. Whether it was this, or the cogency of her argument, that moved the young Anglican, it would be hard to say.</p>
<p>“If you are to be the promoter of this new science, I don’t object to studying under you,” he said with a great deal of meaning in his voice.</p>
<p>Phoebe gave him another smile, though she shook her head; and then she turned to the hero on the other side.</p>
<p>“Is it genuine, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Northcote? is it as fine as I thought? There now, I told you, grandmamma! Have you been telling <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Northcote how you picked it up? I am sure you will present him with a cup and saucer for his collection in return for his praises.”</p>
<p>“Not for the world,” said Northcote, with profound seriousness; “break a set of cream Wedgwood! what do you take me for, Miss Beecham? I don’t mean to say that I would not give my ears to have it—all; but to break the set—”</p>
<p>“Oh, I beg your pardon! I was not prepared for such delicacy of feeling—such conscientiousness—”</p>
<p>“Ah!” said Northcote, with a long-drawn breath, “I don’t think you can understand the feelings of an enthusiast. A set of fine China is like a poem—every individual bit is necessary to the perfection of the whole. I allow that this is not the usual way of looking at it; but my pleasure lies in seeing it entire, making the tea-table into a kind of lyric, elevating the family life by the application of the principles of abstract beauty to its homeliest details. Pardon, Miss Beecham, but <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Tozer is right, and you are wrong. The idea of carrying off a few lines of a poem in one’s pocket for one’s collection—”</p>
<p>“Now that’s what I call speaking up,” said <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Tozer, the first time she had opened her lips, “that’s just what I like. <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Northcote has a deal more sense than the like of you. He knows what’s what. Old things like this as might have been my granny’s, they’re good enough for every day, they’re very nice for common use; but they ain’t no more fit to be put away in cupboards and hoarded up like fine china, no more than I am. <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Northcote should see our best—that’s worth the looking at; and if I’d known as the gentleman was coming—but you can’t put an old head on young shoulders. Phoebe’s as good as gold, and the trouble she takes with an old woman like me is wonderful; but she can’t be expected to think of everything, can she now, at her age?”</p>
<p>The two young men laughed—it was the first point of approach between them, and Phoebe restrained a smile, giving them a look from one to another. She gave Reginald his cup of tea very graciously.</p>
<p>“<abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Northcote prefers the Wedgwood, and <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> May doesn’t mind, grandmamma,” she said sweetly. “So it is as well to have the best china in the cupboard. Grandpapa, another muffin—it is quite hot; and I know that is what you like best.”</p>
<p>“Well, I’ll say that for Phoebe,” said Tozer, with his mouth full, “that whether she understands china or not I can’t tell, but she knows what a man likes, which is more to the purpose for a young woman. That’s what she does; and looks after folk’s comforts as I never yet saw her match. She’s a girl in a thousand, is Phoebe, junior. There be them as is more for dress,” he added, fond and greasy, looking at her seated modestly in that gown, which had filled with awe and admiration the experienced mind of <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Sam Hurst; “and plays the pianny, and that sort of style of girl; but for one as minds the comforts of them about her—” Tozer turned back to the table, and made a gulp of his last piece of muffin. Eloquence could have no more striking climax; the proof of all his enthusiasm, was it not there?</p>
<p>“Don’t you play, Miss Beecham?” said Reginald, half-amused, half-angry.</p>
<p>“A little,” said Phoebe, with a laugh. She had brought down a small cottage piano out of the drawing-room, where nobody ever touched it, into a dark corner out of reach of the lamp. It was the only accomplishment upon which she prided herself. She got up from the table, when she had poured out another cup of tea for her grandfather, and without saying a word went to the little piano. It was not much of an instrument, and Reginald May was very little of a connoisseur. Northcote, who knew her gifts, gave himself up to listening, but the Tozers looked on, shaking their heads, and it was only after some time had passed, that Reginald began to understand that he was listening to something which he had never heard before. Ursula’s schoolgirl tunes had never interested him very much; he did not know what this was which seemed to creep into his heart by his ears. He got up by and by, and stole towards the piano bewildered.</p>
<p>“It’ll soon be over, sir,” said Tozer, encouragingly. “Don’t you run away, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> May. Them are queer tunes, I allow, but they don’t last long, and your company’s an honour. As for the playing, it’ll soon be over; you needn’t run away.”</p>
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