Thomas Wingfold, Curate
CONTENTS
A swift, gray November wind had taken every chimney of the house for an organ-pipe, and was roaring in them all at once, quelling the more distant and varied noises of the woods, which moaned and surged like a sea. Helen Lingard had not been out all day. The morning, indeed, had been fine, but she had been writing a long letter to her brother Leopold at Cambridge, and had put off her walk in the neighbouring park till after luncheon, and in the meantime the wind had risen, and brought with it a haze that threatened rain. She was in admirable health, had never had a day’s illness in her life, was hardly more afraid of getting wet than a young farmer, and enjoyed wind, especially when she was on horseback. Yet as she stood looking from her window, across a balcony where shivered more than one autumnal plant that ought to have been removed a week ago, out upon the old-fashioned garden and meadows beyond, where each lonely tree bowed with drifting garments—I was going to say, like a suppliant, but it was AWAY from its storming enemy—she did not feel inclined to go out. That she was healthy was no reason why she should be unimpressible, any more than that good temper should be a reason for indifference to the behaviour of one’s friend. She always felt happier in a new dress, when it was made to her mind and fitted her body; and when the sun shone she was lighter-hearted than when it rained: I had written MERRIER, but Helen was seldom merry, and had she been made aware of the fact, and questioned why, would have answered—Because she so seldom saw reason.
She was what all her friends called a sensible girl; but, as I say, that was no reason why she should be an insensible girl as well, and be subject to none of the influences of the weather. She did feel those influences, and therefore it was that she turned away from the window with the sense, rather than the conviction, that the fireside in her own room was rendered even, more attractive by the unfriendly aspect of things outside and the roar in the chimney, which happily was not accompanied by a change in the current of the smoke.
George MacDonald
THOMAS WINGFOLD, CURATE.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOLUME I.
THOMAS WINGFOLD, CURATE.
CHAPTER I. HELEN LINGARD.
CHAPTER II. THOMAS WINGFOLD.
CHAPTER III. THE DINERS.
CHAPTER IV. THEIR TALK.
CHAPTER V. A STAGGERING QUESTION.
CHAPTER VI. THE CURATE IN THE CHURCHYARD.
CHAPTER VII. THE COUSINS.
CHAPTER VIII. THE GARDEN.
CHAPTER IX. THE PARK.
CHAPTER X. THE DWARFS.
CHAPTER XI. THE CURATE AT HOME.
CHAPTER XII. AN INCIDENT.
CHAPTER XIII. A REPORT OF PROGRESS.
CHAPTER XIV. JEREMY TAYLOR.
CHAPTER XV. THE PARK GATE.
CHAPTER XVI. THE ATTIC.
CHAPTER XVII. POLWARTH’S PLAN.
CHAPTER XVIII. JOSEPH POLWARTH.
CHAPTER XIX. THE CONCLUSION OF THE WHOLE MATTER.
CHAPTER XX. A STRANGE SERMON.
CHAPTER XXI. A THUNDERBOLT.
CHAPTER XXII. LEOPOLD.
CHAPTER XXIII. THE REFUGE.
CHAPTER XXIV. HELEN WITH A SECRET.
CHAPTER XXV. A DAYLIGHT VISIT.
CHAPTER XXVI. LEOPOLD’S STORY.
CHAPTER XXVII. LEOPOLD’S STORY CONCLUDED.
CHAPTER XXVIII. SISTERHOOD.
CHAPTER XXIX. THE SICK-CHAMBER.
CHAPTER XXX. THE CURATE’S PROGRESS.
CHAPTER XXXI. THE CURATE MAKES A DISCOVERY.
“WHY CALL YE ME LORD, LORD, AND DO NOT THE THINGS WHICH I SAY?”
CHAPTER XXXII. HOPES.
CHAPTER XXXIII. THE RIDE.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
VOLUME II.
CHAPTER I. RACHEL AND HER UNCLE.
CHAPTER II. A DREAM.
CHAPTER III. ANOTHER SERMON.
CHAPTER IV. NURSING.
CHAPTER V. GLASTON AND THE CURATE.
CHAPTER VI. THE LINEN-DRAPER.
CHAPTER VII. RACHEL.
CHAPTER VIII. THE BUTTERFLY.
CHAPTER IX. THE COMMON-PLACE.
CHAPTER X. HOME AGAIN.
CHAPTER XI. THE SHEATH.
CHAPTER XII. INVITATION.
CHAPTER XIII. A SERMON TO HELEN.
CHAPTER XIV. A SERMON TO HIMSELF.
CHAPTER XV. CRITICISM.
CHAPTER XVI. A VANISHING GLIMMER.
CHAPTER XVII. LET US PRAY!
CHAPTER XVIII. TWO LETTERS.
CHAPTER XIX. ADVICE IN THE DARK.
CHAPTER XX. INTERCESSION.
CHAPTER XXI. HELEN ALONE.
CHAPTER XXII. A HAUNTED SOUL.
CHAPTER XXIII. COMPELLED CONFIDENCE.
CHAPTER XXIV. WILLING CONFIDENCE.
CHAPTER XXV. THE CURATE’S COUNSEL.
CHAPTER XXVI. SLEEP.
CHAPTER XXVII. DIVINE SERVICE.
CHAPTER XXVIII. A SHOP IN HEAVEN.
CHAPTER XXIX. POLWARTH AND LINGARD.
CHAPTER XXX. THE STRONG MAN.
CHAPTER XXXI. GEORGE AND LEOPOLD.
CHAPTER XXXII. WINGFOLD AND HELEN.
CHAPTER XXXIII. A REVIEW.
CHAPTER XXXIV. A SERMON TO LEOPOLD.
END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
VOLUME III.
CHAPTER I. AFTER THE SERMON.
CHAPTER II. BASCOMBE AND THE MAGISTRATE.
CHAPTER III. THE CONFESSION.
CHAPTER IV. THE MASK.
CHAPTER V. FURTHER DECISION.
CHAPTER VI. THE CURATE AND THE DOCTOR.
CHAPTER VII. HELEN AND THE CURATE.
CHAPTER VIII. AN EXAMINATION.
CHAPTER IX. IMMORTALITY.
CHAPTER X. PASSAGES FROM THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE WANDERING JEW.
CHAPTER XI. THE WANDERING JEW.
CHAPTER XII. THE WANDERING JEW.
CHAPTER XIII. REMARKS.
CHAPTER XIV. STRUGGLES.
CHAPTER XV. THE LAWN.
CHAPTER XVI. HOW JESUS SPOKE TO WOMEN.
CHAPTER XVII. DELIVERANCE.
CHAPTER XVIII. THE MEADOW.
CHAPTER XIX. RACHEL AND LEOPOLD.
CHAPTER XX. THE BLOOD-HOUND.
CHAPTER XXI. THE BLOOD-HOUND TRAVERSED.
CHAPTER XXII. THE BEDSIDE.
CHAPTER XXIII. THE GARDEN.
CHAPTER XXIV. THE DEPARTURE.
CHAPTER XXV. THE SUNSET.
CHAPTER XXVI. AN HONEST SPY.
CHAPTER XXVII. WHAT HELEN HEARD,
CHAPTER XXVIII. WHAT HELEN HEARD MORE
CHAPTER XXIX. THE CURATE’S RESOLVE.
CHAPTER XXX. HELEN AWAKE.
CHAPTER XXXI. THOU DIDST NOT LEAVE.
THE END.