Chapter VI: The Study

Luke was beginning to feel acutely the great necessity of a study. When his mother had lived with him she had left the dining-room entirely for his use in the mornings, and had been careful not to interrupt him by going in and out. In fact, in those days they had kept no servant, and Mrs. Greville had been so busy in the house that she had not needed to use the room at all.

But since Luke had married and Polly had come as maid, things had been different. Rachel was constantly in the room, and though she took pains to be as quiet as possible, and sometimes sat so still working, that, had it not been that Luke had heard her enter, he would not have known she was there, he was more or less conscious of her presence, and this very consciousness was an interruption.

Luke at this time was not only busy with his parish and his sermons; he was grappling with the great enemy in his own soul.

The literature of the day was flooded with scepticism, and the truths he held most dear were questioned, not only by avowed unbelievers, but by those who held important positions in the Church; and for the sake, not only of his own soul but for those of his people, he had to face these questions and to answer them to his own perfect satisfaction.

He felt that the only way to fight the great enemy was by hard study and constant prayer. And both these duties were almost impossible under the present circumstances. He needed to be alone with God, and not to be subject to continual interruptions even from his wife. Moreover he felt that a study was necessary, so that people who needed spiritual advice or comfort might not be afraid of coming to see him.

Then he had suffered considerably from Rachel's efforts to keep the dining-room tidy. The papers that he left lying about his writing table had been often neatly arranged in heaps, and he had spent several minutes in sorting them. Yet he felt he could not blame the dear hands that had done it, for he happened to know that Polly was not allowed to touch his writing table; Rachel undertook its dusting and arrangement herself. Had he a study he could safely leave his papers about and make a rule that they should not be touched except by himself.

Yes, a study was absolutely necessary.

One morning its necessity was borne in upon him more than ever. He had some very important letters to write and in the midst of them, Polly came in to lay the cloth for dinner. Some of his papers he had put on the table and the laying of the cloth involved their removal. He was just in the midst of answering a very difficult question and felt he could not possibly be interrupted.

"Ask Mrs. Greville to put off dinner for half an hour," he said. Rachel ran in.

"Do you really want dinner put off Luke?" she asked. "It will, I fear, all be spoilt."

"I'm sorry, but it can't be helped. This letter has to go by the 3 o'clock post. Don't let Polly come in again till I tell you."

To Rachel, Luke's dinner was of more importance than any number of letters, but she saw he was a little worried and so left the room at once. Half an hour afterwards she heard the front door slam.

"Quick Polly," she said, "Mr. Greville has evidently gone to the post, lay the table as fast as you can."

But Luke must have gone further than the post. Ten minutes passed away and he had not returned.

"I do believe he has forgotten dinner," said Rachel, looking at Polly with a woe-begone face.

"It is a shame," said Polly, "and you've got such a nice one for him. It's just like the master; he don't think of himself a bit. He's thinking of them people."

And Luke, perfectly unconscious of the surprised distress he had left behind him, knowing that he was late for an engagement, hurried into a pastry cooks, bought a penny bun, and went off to his meeting, thinking to himself, "I must have a study somehow or other. It is impossible to do my work without it."

Should he suggest to Rachel to turn the little spare room into a study? No, that would prevent her having her sister to stay with her upon which, he knew, she had set her heart. He felt almost inclined to go to the extravagance of renting a room in the house where his mother lived. That was not a bad idea at all. He would talk it over with his mother.

When he returned home, to his surprise he found Rachel looking worried.

"Oh Luke," she said, as she glanced up from her work when he opened the door. "What have you been doing? Do you know that you have had no dinner and that Polly and I waited for ours till three o'clock, hoping that you would come. It is really too bad of you." Rachel was evidently ruffled.

"I've had lunch, so don't worry dear," he said, "I'm a bad boy I fear."

Rachel laughed.

"You are a very bad boy indeed," she said, "and don't a bit deserve to have a wife who has prepared a particularly nice dinner for you. But what have you had, and where did you have it?"

"I got a bun, and that supported me well all through the meeting for which I was nearly late."

"A bun! only a bun! Oh Luke, you really are impossible. Of course," she added as she rose, "you must have a proper meal now."

"No, have tea early and give me an egg. That's all I feel inclined for."

He made his way towards his writing table, then stopped short.

"Who has been moving my papers?" he asked.

Rachel started. She had never heard Luke speak so irritably before.

"I have been tidying up," she said, "I hope I have done no mischief. All the letters I have put in the top drawer. See, here they are," opening the drawer quickly, "and your larger papers and books I have laid together. They are quite all right. I was most careful of them."

Luke checked the expression of impatience that he was about to use, and only said:

"I'd rather that they had been left just as I put them. It delays me to have to hunt for letters."

"But the room had to look tidy," said Rachel distressed, "and I thought that if anyone came in to see me and happened to be shown into the dining-room you would not care for your letters to be strewn about. You remember you left in a hurry."

"So I did," he said. "I had forgotten. And you are quite right; the letters ought not to be left about where any one can see them. However," he added, sitting down at his writing table and beginning to look through the top drawer, "it all makes my way plainer. It is positively necessary to have a study where need not be disturbed."

"Why not have dinner in the drawing-room on the days you are at home in the mornings," said Rachel, anxious to help him.

"Oh no, I could not think of that. What I feel I must do is to get a room somewhere; in the house, for instance, where my mother lodges. I must manage it somehow."

Rachel standing by his side while he sorted his papers was quite silent. It was all that she could do not to cry out, "Oh Luke, why are you so blind; why do you hurt me so?" As it was, she stood perfectly still and silent.

The days on which Luke wrote his sermons were red letter days. She loved to sit near him and work; and she had had the impression that the sense of her presence helped him. She had told him once that she sat praying for him as he wrote, and he had kissed her as his thanks. Evidently she had been mistaken; he would prefer to be alone. And why, oh why should he choose to find a room in his mother's house? It would be the beginning of seeing far less of him than ever. Of course his mother would persuade him to stay to dinner with her if his next duty was near her rooms; and it would be only human nature for her to discuss his wife with him and to hint that she was incapable. But she put this thought away from her at once. She was so certain that Luke would not discuss her with anyone, even with his mother.

Her perfect silence made Luke look round, and the expression on her face perplexed him. He covered the hand that lay on the back of his chair with his own, saying remorsefully:

"I'm afraid, dearest, I was a little sharp just now. You must forgive me. You were perfectly right to tidy away my papers; but you will understand that it would be easier for me if I had a room where I could leave them about and find them easily. Besides," he said, "I want more time for private prayer and a place where I cannot be interrupted. My work is suffering for want of this."

"I see," said Rachel. She tried to smile, but failed. "I so love being with you when you write your sermons," she added.

"And I have loved to have you. But the work must come first; and I am convinced that for every reason it will be better to have a room quite to myself." He turned round again to finish sorting his papers.

Rachel came to a sudden determination.

"You won't engage that room till you have thought a little longer about it," she pleaded.

"I shall engage it to-morrow if possible," he answered with decision.

And Rachel said in her heart, "You shall not engage it to-morrow."

Then she went out to find Polly.

"Polly," she said in a soft voice, "do you think your father could come round this evening and bring a man with him. I want to give Mr. Greville a surprise and make the spare room into his study. He will be out at a meeting till nine o'clock. Could you just run round do you think? I will get the tea."

The little spare room had been arranged with the hope that her sister Sybil would soon be able to come and pay them a visit. It was dreadfully disappointing that now she would not be able to take her in. She would have to get a room out for her which would not be nearly so nice. But anything would be better than for Luke to rent a room in his mother's house. She could not endure that. If he did that she would see less and less of him, and she did not think it could be good for a husband to get used to being a long time away from his wife. In fact she simply could not bear it. Sybil's little room at the top of the stairs must be turned into a study; and all the time Rachel was preparing the tea she was planning where to place the furniture and his books. The very idea of giving him such a surprise had the effect of sending away all melancholy thoughts, and Luke, who had been as startled to see such a look of melancholy on his wife's face as she had been to hear his somewhat irritable tone of voice, was relieved to see her as bright as usual, and determined never to allow any irritability to find its way into his heart towards her again.

At ten o'clock that evening Rachel sat by the open window in the drawing-room listening for her husband's footstep. She was very tired, as though Polly's father had, with the help of another man, taken up Luke's writing table and book shelves, etc., and moved other furniture into the spare room. Rachel and Polly had between them moved the books and had arranged them as near as possible in the same order in the shelves, as Luke had arranged them himself in the dining-room. She had taken out of the dining-room two of his favourite pictures and had hung them over his table; and she had placed a large armchair by the window so that he could read in comfort.

And now she sat wondering if Luke would be pleased, or if the very careful moving of his papers would again vex him. Her heart beat as she heard him open the door and she ran to meet him. She drew him into the drawing-room, saying:

"I have such a surprise for you."

But Luke hardly seemed to hear her. His face was radiant, and Rachel saw at once that something had happened to make him very happy and to engage all his thoughts.

"I have such good news to tell you," he said, as he sank rather wearily into a chair.

"What is it?" asked Rachel. After the excitement of the evening his preoccupation rather damped her spirits. That it was not the time to spring her surprise upon him she felt at once, so she took up her needle work and sat down. She could not but notice the expression on his face. She could not think of any other word by which to describe it to herself, but radiant, and a longing that he did not live quite so up in the clouds, as she would have expressed it, took possession of her; he had evidently not heard her remark as she had met him at the door; or if he had heard it, it was to him of such infinitely minor importance than the news he was about to communicate to her, that he had ignored it.

As he was silent before answering her question Rachel said again, and he didn't notice the faint tone of impatience in the voice.

"What is your wonderful news? Do tell me."

"That's just it," he said looking joyfully at her. "It is wonderful. A man who has been the ringleader of a lot of harm in the parish, has to-night made the great decision; in other words, he has been converted."

"Oh Luke, how beautiful," said Rachel.

Rachel knew what this news meant to her husband. For a moment the study was forgotten.

"He has only twice been to the class;" continued Luke, "and the first time he made himself troublesome by arguing with me. But he came again to my surprise, and to-night, well, it was wonderful. It only shows what God can do. It was just a word of Scripture that struck him and would not let him rest. He was quite broken down."

Rachel's work had dropped on to her knee and she sat looking at her husband. His face reminded her of the parable of the lost sheep and of the joy in the Presence of God over one sinner that repented. Even in the days of their perfect courtship, even on that wonderful moonlight night on the sea at Southwold, she had never seen such joy on his face. His love for his Lord, and His work, exceeded, evidently, every other love and interest. Rachel looking into her own heart and remembering how comparatively little communion she experienced with her Lord, compared to Luke, felt inclined to weep. She had been wholly taken up with her husband and his home and with the determination of keeping him all to herself. She had not given much time to prayer; and even in those moments in which she had knelt down night and morning she found her thoughts wandering away to Luke, and revolving round him. Her conscience accused her loudly.

"I will bring in your cocoa," she said rising, "Polly has gone to bed."

It was after drinking his cocoa, that she told him again that she had a surprise waiting for him.

They ran upstairs together, his arm round her. He was in such buoyant spirits. Then Rachel opened the study door.

For the first moment he was silent from astonishment. Then he took her face between his hands and kissed her.

"But I don't approve of the surprise at all," he said, laughing. "What about Sybil?"

"Sybil will have a room out. I would a hundred times rather that you should write your sermons in your own home and near me than that you should get a room elsewhere. Do you like it?"

"Like it? I should think so." Then his face became grave. "But where are my letters and papers?" he asked anxiously.

"Perfectly safe. I have put an elastic band round the letters and they are in exactly the same order as you left them, and so are your other papers which you will find in the long top drawer. Then I have told Polly that she is never to come into the study, but that I will see to it. So you can leave everything about, dear; or lock the room up when you are out."

Luke busy among his papers looked up with a smile.

"Are you sure you would not mind me doing that? I can't tell you what a relief it would be to me to know that nothing has been moved."

"I will dust it early in the morning before your letters come," said Rachel, "and then you will be sure that you can leave everything about and it won't be interfered with."

His smile of pleasure was enough reward for Rachel.