himself. In the Archdeacon's opinion there had been too many _clever_
men of Pybus. Time now for a _normal_ man. Morrison was normal and
Forsyth would be more normal still.

He was in fact first cousin to young Johnny St. Leath and therefore a very
near relation of the Countess herself. His father was the fourth son of
the Earl of Trewithen, and, as every one knows, the Trewithens and the St.
Leaths are, for all practical purposes, one and the same family, and
divide Glebeshire between them. No one ever quite knew what young Rex
Forsyth became a parson for. Some people said he did it for a wager; but
however true that might be, he was not very happy with dear old Bishop
Clematis and very ready for preferment.

Now the Archdeacon was no snob; he believed in men and women who had long
and elaborate family-trees simply because he believed in institutions and
because it had always seemed to him a quite obvious fact that the longer
any one or anything remained in a place the more chance there was of
things being done as they always had been done. It was not in the least
because she was a Countess that he thought the old Lady St. Leath a
wonderful woman; not wonderful for her looks certainly--no one could call
her a beautiful woman--and not wonderful for her intelligence; the
Archdeacon had frequently been compelled to admit to himself that she was
a little on the stupid side--but wonderful for her capacity for staying
where she was like a rock and allowing nothing whatever to move her. In
these dangerous days--and what dangerous days they were!--the safety of
the country simply depended on a few such figures as the Countess. Queen
Victoria was another of them, and for her the Archdeacon had a real and
very touching devotion. Thank God he would be able to show a little of it
in the prominent part he intended to play in the Polchester Jubilee
festivals this year!