Chapter 4 Chapter Four

Philip parted from Emma with tears in his eyes, but once he was on the road he was refreshed by what he saw and heard along the way.When they at last reached Blackstable he seemed content and cheerful.Blackstable is sixty miles from London.Mr. Carey left the porter with his luggage, and walked with Philip towards the Vicarage.They were there in less than five minutes.As soon as Philip saw the door, he remembered it at once.It was a red gate with five fences erected on it. The hinges on the gate were flexible and could be opened and closed freely in two directions. If it was hung on the gate, it could swing back and forth like a swing , but adults are not allowed to play like that.They walked through the garden to the main gate.The front door was only used when guests came to visit, or on Sundays, or on some special occasions, such as when the priest went to London or returned from London.Usually, family members use the side door to enter and exit; in addition, there is a back door for gardeners, beggars and tramps to enter and exit.It was a fairly spacious building of yellow brick and red roof, in the style of a church building, built about twenty-five years ago.The front entrance was shaped like a church porch, and the living room had Gothic windows.

Mrs. Carey knew which train they were going to take, so she waited in the drawing room, listening for the click of the door.As soon as she heard the noise, she ran to the door. "That's your Aunt Louisa," said Mr. Carey to Philip, when he saw Mrs. Carey. "Go and kiss her." Philip began to run, dragging his lame leg, with an awkward gait; he ran a few steps and stopped again.Mrs. Carey was a small, wizened woman, about the same age as her husband, with pale blue eyes, and a face so densely lined and creased as to be rare.Her gray hair was still the hairstyle that was popular when she was young, combed into small curls.She wore a black dress, and her only ornament was a gold chain from which hung a cross.She looked shy and spoke softly.

"All the way, William?" she said, almost reproachfully, as she kissed her husband. "I didn't think of that," he replied, casting a glance at his nephew. "Does your foot hurt after all this walking, Philip?" she asked the child. "It doesn't hurt. I'm used to walking." Philip could not help but be a little surprised to hear their conversation.Aunt Louisa beckoned him in, and they went into the hall together.The foyer is paved with red and yellow tiles alternating with Greek crosses and images of Jesus Christ.An imposing staircase leads from the hall to the outside. It is made of polished pine wood and exudes a strange fragrance.When the parish church installed new seats, fortunately there was a lot of wood left over, so this staircase was completed.Allegorical patterns symbolizing the four authors of the Gospels are engraved on the balustrades of the stairs.

"I've had the fire lit, and I think you'll be cold when you get home from all the dust," said Mrs. Carey. There was a large dark stove in the hall, which was used for warmth only when the weather was very bad, and the Vicar had a cold.Even if Mrs. Carey caught a cold, she would be reluctant to light the stove.Coal is too expensive.Besides, Mary Ann, the maid, did not like to have fires all over the house to keep warm.If there is a stove to light a fire, then a maid must be hired.In winter the Careys stayed all day in the dining-room, so that it was only necessary to light a fire there, and in summer they ate and lived there as usual, and Mr. Carey went to sleep in the drawing-room only on Sunday afternoons. nap.But every Saturday, in order to write his sermons, he always had a fire built in his study.

Aunt Louisa took Philip upstairs and showed him into a small bedroom looking out on the drive.There was a huge tree near the window, Philip remembered, yes, it was the big tree, with low-hanging branches, and with these branches one could climb up the tree and climb very high. "Kids live in cabins," Mrs. Carey said. "Aren't you afraid to sleep alone?" "Oh, don't be afraid." Philip was here last time with a nurse, so Mrs. Carey need not worry about him.But at this moment, she looked at Philip, feeling a little uneasy. "Can you wash your hands? Do you want me to do it for you?"

"I can wash it myself," he replied simply. "Well, I'll check when you come down for tea later," said Mrs. Carey. She knew nothing about the child.Mrs. Carey often wondered what to do with Philip after she had decided to let him come to Blackstable.She was anxious to fulfill her parental duties; and now that the child had come she found herself as shy and uneasy in Philip's presence as he was in her own.I hope he's not some wild, shouting boy, because Mr. Carey doesn't like kids like that.Mrs. Carey made an excuse and went away, leaving Philip alone, but

In a blink of an eye, he ran back and knocked on the door.She didn't go into the room, but she just stood outside the door and asked if he would pour the water himself, and then she went downstairs and rang the bell for the servant to serve tea. The dining-room was large and well-proportioned, with a row of windows on both sides of the room, shaded by thick red ribbed curtains.There is a large dining table in the center of the dining room, and a mirrored mahogany sideboard stands against the wall, which is quite grand.In one corner stood a harmonium.There is a leather armchair on each side of the fireplace, with a trademark stamp on the leather surface and a seat cover on the back of the chair.One has armrests and is called the "husband" chair; the other has no arms and is called the "wife" chair.Mrs. Carey never sat in the easy chair with the arms.She said she would rather sit in an uncomfortable chair; with so much housework to do every day, if her chair had armrests, she would just sit down and not bother to move.

Mr. Carey was adding coal to the stove when Philip came in.He casually showed his nephew two pokers.One of them was thick and shiny, with a smooth surface, and had never been used, which he called the "Priest"; Associate Priest". "What are we waiting for?" said Mr. Carey. "I told Mary Ann to boil you an egg. I suppose you've had a hard trip and you're starving." The journey back to Blackstable from London was tiring enough, Mrs. Carey thought.She seldom went out herself, for they lived on a trifling salary of three hundred pounds a year; and whenever her husband wanted to go on holidays, he was always left alone in the end, because his money could not afford the expense of two of them.Mr. Carey was fond of attending the National Christian Convention, and tried to get to London once a year.He had been to an exhibition in Paris, and had traveled two or three times to Switzerland.Mary Ann brought in the eggs, and they were all seated.Philip's chair was too low for Mr. Carey and Mrs. Carey for a moment.

"I'll get some books to cushion him," said Mary Ann. Mary Ann took from the top of the harmonium a large Bible and the prayer-book with which the vicar often said his prayers, and put them on Philip's chair. "Oh, William, he can't sit on a Bible!" said Mrs. Carey with trepidation. "Can't you go to the study and get him some books?" Mr. Carey pondered for a moment. "Mary Ann, I reckon it doesn't matter much if you put your prayer-book on it once in a while," he said. "This "Book of Public Prayer" was originally written by some mortals like us, so it is not a classic divine book."

"I didn't expect that, William," said Aunt Louisa. Philip sat down on the two books, and the Vicar finished his thanksgiving and began to cut off the point of the egg. "Well," he said, handing Philip the tip of the egg, "you can eat the tip if you like." Philip hoped that he could enjoy a whole egg, but since he didn't have this blessing, he could only eat as much as he could. "Do the hens lay eggs as often as I am away?" the pastor asked. "Oh, it sucks, only one or two chickens lay eggs a day." "How's the tip of that egg, Philip?" asked his uncle.

"Very well, thank you." "You can still have a piece of this on a Sunday afternoon." Mr. Carey always had a hard-boiled egg at his Sunday tea to give him energy for the evening service.