Emanuel, or Children of the Soil/Book 1, Chapter 3
The dining-room—like most of the Parsonage rooms—was a lofty and well proportioned apartment, with a richly decorated ceiling and frescoes over the doors. Although Veilby and Skibberup were far from being rich livings, the Parsonage and all its out buildings were in a style more in keeping with the seat of a rich landed proprietor, than a dwelling for a servant of the church. The Provst's predecessor in the living had been an exceedingly rich man, and his first work had been to level the old Parsonage buildings with the ground. At his own cost he erected the present palatial building, the costliness of which led to pilgrimages from all parts of the country to look at it. Even now the wildest tales were told of the recklessness with which he squandered his money.
A peasant only had to go to him and complain of a misfortune with his cattle, or say that his corn was blighted, and he would immediately run a pen through his debt for tithes, and sometimes even hand him a note for 50 Daler when he left. All that he asked in return was to be left in peace with his books and his works of art; and as the parishioners always had considerably less taste for the treasures of religion than for the more tangible goods of this world, the best understanding existed between the congregation and its head during the fifteen years reign of the "Millionaire Priest."
In the meantime Provst Tönnesen complained bitterly of his predecessor, and with reason; by his proceedings he had entirely muddled the ideas of the parishioners. They had grown accustomed to regard tithes and offerings as things they might give or withhold at their discretion, so that when the Provst demanded that regularity should be re-introduced and even required strictly punctual payments, it was looked upon as unseemly greed in a priest, and gave rise to a meeting which was the first source of the strained relations which had existed ever since.
The hostile feeling against the Provst had in the last few days taken a new and characteristic turn, and it was the remembrance of this which was at the bottom of his recent violent outburst.
The fact was, that the conspiring peasants having again refused to pay their tithes, the rector had distrained, and according to a preconcerted arrangement, they had all allowed their old manure carts and wagons to be seized, and drove up one day in solemn procession before the Parsonage, where the sale was to take place. Then amid great merriment they bought their goods back again and drove off exultant.
If the Provst then had reasonable cause to be displeased with his predecessor's relations with his parishoners, he was in return doubly grateful for the princely home he had left behind him. It exactly corresponded to what, in his opinion, was a fitting residence for a Vicar of Christ in the parishes of Veilby and Skibberup; and it was partly on this account that he still held this—in proportion to his age and seniority—very moderate living. Moreover he was suffering from an imaginary mortification at the hands of the higher powers, which he attributed to the personal spite of his immediate superior, namely the Bishop, an unusually liberal minded man both in ecclesiastical affairs and in politics. It was in fact not one of Provst Tönnesen's failings to undervalue himself, and as he had more than once been passed over on the filling up of some of the larger appointments, he looked upon this as an intentional slight, and determined that he would not again apply for preferment under his present Bishop—a decision which the smallness of his family and some private fortune enabled him to maintain without any great self-denial.
He was not however, above accepting a little balm for his wound when, a year or two later he allowed himself to be nominated Provst or rural dean; a position in which he at last found a fitting field for his superfluous energy, and his self-esteem recovered from the mortifications it had undergone. From that day he lived and breathed among old documents, and acts of parliament, composing with painful solicitude sheet upon sheet of representations to diocesan authorities and county councils. He instituted elaborate enquiries at every opportunity among his subordinate clergy, and was the special dread of the school masters under his jurisdiction, whom he pursued with endless lists of reports and schedules which he insisted on having filled up with great precision. He did in fact succeed to a great extent in strengthening the clerical control over the Education Department; and it was not without reason that he considered himself at home on this subject, for in his younger days he had been assistant master at one of the public schools for several years.
He explained all these measures to the curate at the tea-table, giving him to understand that he was taking a curate so as to have more time to devote to these works.
The curate, listening in silence, absently crumbled his bread on the cloth without eating anything. He had hardly eaten at all for the twenty-four hours he had been under the Provst's roof. He did not give the impression of being ill at ease. On the contrary there was an expression of joy and thankfulness in his gentle light blue eyes, when he now and then raised them and glanced round the room, dwelling a moment on the daughter of the house, as she stood behind the steaming urn.
Miss Ragnhild Tönnesen was, like her father, a stately figure and the image of him. She had the same large expressive eyes—only a shade lighter—the same southern type of nose and well-formed mouth. But she was slim almost to thinness, nor had she inherited the Provst's healthy dark complexion. Her skin was pale and delicate, almost transparent—as if it had never known either wind or sun. On the other hand her haughty bearing and formal carriage were again quite her father's, just as the relationship could be traced in the inordinate care of her person which was disclosed by her elegant costume in the latest fashion.
Miss Ragnhild was twenty-four years old and the Provst's only child. If at the first moment she appeared somewhat older, it was the result of having been the mistress of her father's house for some years. While quite a child the Provst had lost his wife, and it was owing to the overwhelming shock of his loss that he gave up his promising future as a school master and moved into a country parsonage in search of consolation and quiet for himself and his child.