Chapter II

Ronders



The train that brought Falk Brandon back to Polchester brought also the
Ronders--Frederick Ronder, newly Canon of Polchester, and his aunt, Miss
Alice Ronder. About them the station gathered in a black cloud, dirty,
obscure, lit by flashes of light and flame, shaken with screams,
rumblings, the crashing of carriage against carriage, the rattle of cab-
wheels on the cobbles outside. To-day also there was the hiss and scatter
of the rain upon the glass roof. The Ronders stood, not bewildered, for
that they never were, but thinking what would be best. The new Canon was a
round man, round-shouldered, round-faced, round-stomached, round legged. A
fair height, he was not ludicrous, but it seemed that if you laid him down
he would roll naturally, still smiling, to the farthest end of the
station. He wore large, very round spectacles. His black clerical coat and
trousers and hat were scrupulously clean and smartly cut. He was not a
dandy, but he was not shabby. He smiled a great deal, not nervously as
curates are supposed to smile, not effusively, but simply with geniality.
His aunt was a contrast, thin, straight, stiff white collar, little black
bow-tie, coat like a man's, skirt with no nonsense about it. No nonsense
about her anywhere. She was not unamiable, perhaps, but business came
first.

"Well, what do we do?" he asked.

"We collect our bags and find the cab," she answered briskly.