“Read it up, Sam. Who in the name of all that’s ecclesiastical is Hugh St. Clair, Archdeacon?”
“The Vicarage, Caistorholm, Lincs. August 10, 188
“DEAR SIR,— I am strongly recommended by my esteemed friend, Mr. Fortescue, to seek your advice and professional assistance in a somewhat complicated matter in which I am very seriously concerned. Unfortunately, the absence of the Bishop on the Continent has thrown an unusual stress of diocesan work upon me, and I cannot very well pay a visit to Yorkshire at this juncture. Moreover, if you should be disposed to undertake the protection of my interests, the matter is such as to render a visit by you—probably, indeed, many visits—to this neighbourhood, indispensable. May I suggest, then, that you should accept the modest hospitality of the Vicarage for a few days. If you can come, I hope you can come at a very early day. You will find the route by Doncaster a convenient one, and if you will apprize me of the time of your arrival, I will send the carriage to meet your train. Believe me, Mr. Fortescue has spoken to me of you in such terms that I hope your many engagements will not preclude you from giving your valued time and attention to the affair in which I hope to have the benefit of your advice. Yours faithfully, HUGH ST. CLAIR, Archdeacon.”
“Who’s ‘my friend Mr. Fortescue’?” queried Beaumont. “Never heard of him in my life that I can remember. Tell you what, Sam, seems to me this letter’s missed its way. St. Clairs and Fortescues and crests and mottoes aren’t much in our line, eh? Memorandum heads from Plover Mills, Telephone address No.—is more our form. Yet here it is as plain as a pike-staff, ‘Edward Beaumont, Esq., solicitor, Huddersfield.’”
“I fancy I’ve heard my reverend relative talk of a Fortescue he knew at Cambridge. I daresay that’s the way it’s worked round. Anyhow, assuming the letter’s for you, what do you mean to do? Go, of course.”
“Well, no, Sam, I think not. You see, Archdeacons and I don’t assimilate somehow. Who was it that wondered how the old augurs and haruspices kept their faces when they saw each other? Well, I’m that way with parsons. Not that I ever came across a live Archdeacon. But I suppose he’ll be a cleric, double distilled. I think you’d better write and offer your own valuable services. Besides, it looks like chamber business, and that’s your department, you know.”