John Tincroft

“ Tincroft, in your walks round Oxford?"
"I—I can't say that I have, sir," said John, hesitatingly. "Not that I should think it improper," he added, by way of salvo for the grey-headed clergyman; "but the truth is, I don't often take walks round Oxford."
"Ah! That accounts—and—but, at any rate, we did, and, as I tell you, we got too fond of the walk to the Hinkseys, and to dropping in at the little inn. At least, my friend did."
"Ah! I see," remarked John Tincroft, who thought he did see, but he didn't. "Your poor friend got to be too fond of—of what you call refreshments. ”

“ Happy are they who have wisdom to avoid even the appearance of evil!
Happiest of all when they have Divine grace given them in all their ways to acknowledge Him who is the source of wisdom, and to seek His direction and pilotage.
There were no more Oriental studies for John Tincroft now, or at most they were few and far between, unless indeed, he cultivated them in his walks between the Manor House and High Beech Farm. ”

“ I mean, what do you do? Where do you go?" John Tincroft asked dreamily.
"Oh, as to the going, we shan't have to go far. They come to us. We have tables, forms, and chairs out on the lawn; and there's eating and drinking, you may make sure of that; and after that—but you'll see enough of it before it is over. And you must put your books away for that day, at any rate."
"Are your tenants a very noisy set?" asked quiet John.
"Oh, they are not as still as mice, and they don't roar quite so loud as lions. ”

“ The little wife, though she kept no servant girl, was not the only female in the establishment, as Tincroft soon learned. There was upstairs, in a back apartment, a mysterious old lady, the mother of the Oxford scout. I say mysterious, simply because John Tincroft chose to make a mystery of her, on the ground that he had been in the enjoyment of his lodgings some days before he heard of her existence, and because he was then told that she very rarely left her room. ”

“ The matter looked more serious, though, when one day about a month after the picnic, John Tincroft, either accidentally or designedly on one part, fell in with the clergyman of whom previous mention has been made. John was returning from one of his morning walks to High Beech Farm when the rencontre took place.
"You are fond of taking exercise, Mr. Tincroft," observed the reverend gentleman.
"I don't know; not particularly, I think, Mr. Rubric," said John, with his accustomed innocent awkwardness. "At least," added he, "not till lately. I have taken more exercise of late, I think." ”

“ Only yesterday, when I was gathering filberts, you know where, to send to market to-day, who should make his appearance but that stupid John Tincroft. He had come up to High Beech, as he had done a deal oftener than I have liked, and finding nobody in the house but Meg, he came blundering into the garden, where I was. I was that mad with him that I could have boxed his ears, but I didn't; I left that for you to do. But I set him to work, and made him help me gather the filberts. You can't think what a ninny he is; he doesn't know how to do anything properly ”

“ John Tincroft was not a bad young fellow, though he was awkward, and ungainly, and shy.
"Your heart is better than your head," he was once told by his schoolmaster, on occasion of some petty delinquency. ”

“ To tell the truth, Tom was not much more studiously inclined than his elder brother. At any rate, he did not see the fun of poring over books in vacation time, when he could be on horseback half the day, and lounging the other half of it to his heart's content. Very soon, therefore, John Tincroft had the library to himself, and worked away with his Oriental studies.
"This will never do, Tincroft," said his host to him one day, two or three weeks after his arrival; "you are positively wearing yourself to skin and bone with your books and all the rest of it." ”

“ Apparently this broke the spell, for Tincroft now slipped his arm within that of his young friend, and the two paced up and down the long path as they communed together.
"My dear lad," said John, when they were thus in motion, "your father and I were dear friends when we were about your age. We were almost always together when we were at Oxford. We never had a serious disagreement in our lives; I received many a kindness from him; and though we have not seen so much of each other of late years as formerly, we are as much friends as ever. ”

“ John Tincroft showed no signs of disbelief, so Mr. Barry still proceeded.
"The house we live in is mother's, sir; she bought it and paid for it, and set me up with furniture, wife and all, fifteen years ago, bless her; and I'm down in her will for everything when she dies, which," added the son, "won't be for many years to come, if God pleases. Only as she is five-and-seventy, if ever a day, and with her fat, too, much isn't to be expected." ”

“ Oh, why can't he let me alone?"
"Do you mean that that letter is from your cousin in Australia, my dear?"
"Yes, that is what it is."
"Well, my pretty, I don't know why he should not write to you. He writes no harm, does he? He is a married man, you know. He does not ask you to run away from your own husband, does he, love?" asked John, gravely, but not without a gleam of humour, perhaps, on his countenance.
"How should I know what he writes?" cried Sarah, piteously.
"Have you not read the letter, then?" Tincroft asked, wonderingly.
"Read it! Read it! No, I should think not, John. ”

“ Thus three or four weeks passed away, with little addition to John Tincroft's stores of Oriental erudition; and the time came when he must quit the retirement of Jericho for the more classic shades of Queen's College, with his two solitary rooms therein. Meanwhile, as he was contemplating this flight, the following epistle reached him:
"DEAR TINCROFT,—This has been a horrid bad season for birds (videlicet, partridges) . The wet weeks at hatching time, and the rats and weasels, have brought down our bags to a minimum. ”

“ It would be tedious and unprofitable to follow our two antiquarians, as we may for the present consider them, in their further researches that day. It will suffice to say that they returned to their late dinner at the George—Mr. Foster rather disgusted with the general stolidity of the inhabitants of Saddlebrook, the more so that his inquiries had hitherto produced no palpable result; and John Tincroft thinking he should be much happier with another companion, and wondering how they got on at High Beech Farm without him. ”

“ A sharp man, Foster. He has been to Saddlebrook on your affairs before, examining registers, and so forth; so he knows how the land lies. All you have to do is to follow his lead."
Greatly relieved by this piece of intelligence, John Tincroft made no further objection to the task imposed on him, and declared himself ready to depart at once. Striking while the iron was thus hot, the lawyer fixed on the next day for the journey; so Tincroft left the office to make arrangements with Barry, the college scout, to occupy the rooms at Jericho on his return until the end of the vacation. ”

“ John Tincroft began to feel more uncomfortable in being the involuntary hearer of all this family difference.
"Yes, I mean to, Sarah," continued the stronger-minded cousin. "It will be just the same with Walter, I say. Why, there's Miss Burgess, Mary Burgess he calls her, Ralph Burgess's sister, who keeps house for her brother—you should read what Walter writes about her."
"It isn't true—it isn't!" almost screamed the tortured girl. "It's all stories you are telling, you good-for-nothing thing, you!" ”

“ But we do not find the sacred writers holding up either their solecisms or their vulgarities to notice. So, if the reader pleases, Sarah shall still speak with reasonable accuracy.
Yes, John Tincroft was still fond of his wife. I don't doubt that, as he sometimes sat by her side, the old feeling of admiration came over him which had formerly reconciled him to the knobby-seated parlour chair at High Beech Farm; and he forgot (even if he had ever suffered his mind to dwell upon) the want of congeniality which held them, husband and wife, intellectually at a distance from each other. ”

“ We know better, of course. We know that Walter Wilson was a rich man. And John's friend, Tom Grigson, had also been told the same thing. But John Tincroft knew nothing about this; for, as I have said, he rarely heard news of any kind; and he had never happened to hear of Sarah's cousin, save that he was married ”

“ Succeeding at last in his endeavours to raise the young person, and to place her in a reclining position, John looked around him for help. It was plain that she had fainted, and it was necessary that some means should be adopted for her restoration. But there was no help at hand: the grotto was, as we have said, in a distant as well as secluded part of the pleasure-grounds; and the company were, as Tincroft knew, now gathering together into the hall of the Manor House for the parting cup and their host's hearty farewell. ”

“ Tincroft, I wouldn't go near Beech Farm again."
"Do you really mean on account of its being—"
"Of its being an unhealthy spot for you to ruralise in," said Mr. Rubric, taking up the words. "You don't know what harm you may be doing," he added.
"Harm!"
"Yes, harm. You go there to see Miss Wilson—Sarah Wilson—do you not?"
"Dear me, sir! Not that I am aware of," replied John, aghast.
"Just so. But for all that I am afraid that young lady is the attraction. Now, listen to me. That young—young person is already engaged, as I suppose you are aware."
Yes, John was aware of the fact. ”

“ And he wrung Tincroft's hand again, till tears started from his eyes.
"It is very good of you," said John, "and of Mr. Richard; but I would rather the wedding should go off quietly."
But it did not go off quietly. Perhaps, however, one picnic in a story is enough, and it will be sufficient to place on record here that on a certain day in June, years ago, but in less than a year from the date of our first chapter, was married in the parish church of a certain village in Blankshire, John Tincroft, gentleman, of Oxford, to Sarah Wilson, spinster, of the above parish. ”

“ But I have not said what I had to say to you, and I mean to say it."
"You may say what you like now, Elizabeth."
"I don't mean to say anything more about uncle Mark and aunt," the other went on; "because I know as well as you do, that you can't help that. And you and I might be as good friends as ever, Sarah, if you would only be sensible, as I said before, and see things as you ought. Now look, dear—"
(Oh, thought John Tincroft, in his concealment—dear, too! When women begin to call one another dear, it looks ominous. So I have heard. Not that I know anything about it. How should I?) ”

“ She will rally now, I hope. It will be pleasant for her to live in the country again."
And so, after a while, they went to live in the country, John Tincroft and his Sarah, and Sarah's mother. And they had, instead of a picnic, what they called a "house-warming," at which were present Mr. Richard Grigson and his brother Tom, Mr. Rubric, Mr. Rackstraw, Mr. Roundhand, and his confidential clerk Mr. Foster, with sundry others. It took time to bring this about, however, for the old dilapidated house first had to be made habitable, and its grounds presentable to strangers. ”

“ The funeral expenses were, of course, to be paid out of the estate, and the necessary legal powers were to be placed in John Tincroft's hands to administer to the will.
There was a short silence when Mr. Fawley had finished reading; and he and his friends from the Manor House were about to depart, when Old Matthew arose. Hoarsely, he spoke.
He had never known such trickery—never. Here was his son Walter, who had come home from Australia a rich man, making believe to be a poor man. ”

“ And then the two loving companions took many a quiet walk into the country around Tincroft House, which was now putting on its early summer beauty. To Helen this was all new; for nothing can be much more distinctly different than the appearances of nature in the two hemispheres. And the enthusiastic delight of the young Australian in her first acquaintance with English country scenery was so contagious, that I question if Sarah had ever before understood or appreciated how much beauty can be discovered in a blade of grass, a wayside flower, or a budding twig of hazel. ”

“ At any rate, he went on: "I am a plain man, Mr. Tincroft, and have worked hard all my life—so has my dame—to get together what little there is to keep us going, and against a rainy day, maybe. We have got other boys, too, besides Walter, though one of them has not behaved as he ought to have done; he did me out of High Beech, George did—or his wife did, by putting him up to it, as my mistress says; but, any way, it was done by him. And then there's Elizabeth, and she not married, and not likely to be. You understand what I mean, Mr. Tincroft?"
John didn't understand ”

“ Richard's library, of which John had naturally taken possession for the time being, and in which he had free range.
"Oh, I knew Walter was in good hands," said John. "He has his mother and sister to look after him; and he must have a great deal to talk about with you all; and—and, in short—I didn't wish to intrude."
"No intrusion at all, Mr. Tincroft; it wouldn't have been any intrusion. Aren't we a sort of relations? It's your wife's—Sarah's—uncle I am, you know."
"True," replied John; "and if I thought it would have been any pleasure or gratification, I would have called oftener. ”

“ It was the more consolatory to Tincroft, therefore, as well as a pleasant surprise, when one day—before all his arrangements were quite completed, and before he had finally taken leave of his rooms at Queen's—Tom Grigson broke in upon him with an extraordinary outburst of voice, something like a view-hallo, and caught him by the hand in such a grip that John winced under the infliction.
"John, you are a splendid fellow!" said he.
John did not think so of himself, and he said he did not.
"True greatness is always modest," said Tom ”