'O yes. He is the son of an unfortunate gentleman who was formerly
curate here,--a Mr. St. Cleeve.' 'I never saw a handsomer young man in my life,' said the Bishop. Lady
Constantine blushed. 'There was a lack of self-consciousness, too, in
his manner of presenting himself, which very much won me. A Mr. St.
Cleeve, do you say? A curate's son? His father must have been St.
Cleeve of All Angels, whom I knew. How comes he to be staying on here?
What is he doing?' Mr. Torkingham, who kept one ear on the Bishop all the lunch-time,
finding that Lady Constantine was not ready with an answer, hastened to
reply: 'Your lordship is right. His father was an All Angels' man.
The youth is rather to be pitied.' 'He was a man of talent,' affirmed the Bishop. 'But I quite lost sight
of him.' 'He was curate to the late vicar,' resumed the parson, 'and was much
liked by the parish: but, being erratic in his tastes and tendencies, he
rashly contracted a marriage with the daughter of a farmer, and then
quarrelled with the local gentry for not taking up his wife. This lad
was an only child. There was enough money to educate him, and he is
sufficiently well provided for to be independent of the world so long as
he is content to live here with great economy. But of course this gives
him few opportunities of bettering himself.' 'Yes, naturally,' replied the Bishop of Melchester. 'Better have been left entirely dependent on himself. These half-incomes do men little
good, unless they happen to be either weaklings or geniuses.' Lady Constantine would have given the world to say, 'He is a genius, and
the hope of my life;' but it would have been decidedly risky, and in
another moment was unnecessary, for Mr. Torkingham said, 'There is a
certain genius in this young man, I sometimes think.' 'Well, he really looks quite out of the common,' said the Bishop.
'Youthful genius is sometimes disappointing,' observed Viviette, not
believing it in the least.
'Yes,' said the Bishop. 'Though it depends, Lady Constantine, on what
you understand by disappointing. It may produce nothing visible to the
world's eye, and yet may complete its development within to a very
perfect degree. Objective achievements, though the only ones which are
counted, are not the only ones that exist and have value; and I for one
should be sorry to assert that, because a man of genius dies as unknown
to the world as when he was born, he therefore was an instance of wasted
material.' Objective achievements were, however, those that Lady Constantine had a
weakness for in the present case, and she asked her more experienced
guest if he thought early development of a special talent a good sign in
youth.