‘Ha! I knew it.’
Elinor rose to leave, but her husband waved her back to her chair.
‘Pray do not disturb yourself, my dear. This will not take a moment and besides, you know all this and more already.’ He stuck his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets and stood legs apart with his back towards the empty fireplace. ‘When my predecessor as Master died, Mr Holdsworth, we had, as is customary in these cases, an election for his successor. The fellows are the electors. By statute, anyone may be put forward as a candidate as long as he has an MA and is of course a communicant of the Church of England. Very often the candidates are chosen from among the fellows themselves, as is natural. And this was the case in the last election. The candidates were myself and Mr Richardson.’
Elinor coughed. ‘I’m sure we must not tire Mr Holdsworth with our little affairs, sir. He has -’
‘Pray be silent, Mrs Carbury, and leave these matters to those who understand them.’
Elinor felt herself flushing and turned her head away.
‘As I was saying, I had allowed my friends to put me forward, but in truth I cared very little about the result.’ Dr Carbury stared at the ceiling. ‘Mr Richardson, on the other hand, felt very strongly about the matter. So much so that the methods he employed to advance his case were not – well, I shall not say they were actually corrupt, though I fear others have suggested as much. But I will say that they were certainly not those of a gentleman. Still, as I said to Mrs Carbury only the other day, one cannot make a velvet cap out of a sow’s ear. Mr Richardson’s origins are humble, you know, and despite his undoubted abilities there is a meanness about him that one does not find in a man of breeding. You must not allow his agreeable manner to blind you to his real nature, Mr Holdsworth. We were undergraduates here together, and his true nature was apparent even then. Some of the more unkind students knew him as “Dirty Dick”. They affected to believe that an unfortunate odour clung to him, for his father had been a tanner’s journeyman, and you know how difficult it is to get rid of the smell of stinking hides.’
Carbury paused. He looked at Holdsworth, as if expecting a comment from him.
Holdsworth said, ‘Yes, sir, indeed I do. As it happens, my father was a tanner too.’
15
Soresby was paring his nails with a penknife under the western arcade of Chapel Court. The tunnel of the college’s principal entrance was behind him and the gates beside the porter’s lodge were open. The outer archway framed a view of St Andrew’s Street, the bustle from which struck the one discordant note that disturbed the dignified tranquillity of Jerusalem.
When the sizar saw Holdsworth approaching he flushed unbecomingly and slipped the knife in his pocket. He doffed his cap. ‘This way, sir.’
‘Mr Richardson tells me you are the library clerk, Mr Soresby,’ Holdsworth said, lingering outside. ‘What do your duties consist of?’
‘I open up the place in the morning, sir, and close it at night. I restore the books to the shelves in the proper order. And I maintain the loans book.’
‘They keep you busy.’
‘Oh, there is more, sir. I keep the accounts, too, under Mr Richardson’s direction, and I am often called on to help those who wish to find a particular volume on the shelves.’
‘All this and you have to pursue your own studies too?’
‘Yes indeed, sir. If you would be so good as to precede me up the stairs. Mr Richardson is waiting.’
Holdsworth walked ahead, wondering what Soresby earned for his labours. At the top of the stairs was a door that stood open, revealing a long room beyond. It was lit by rows of windows on both sides. Late-afternoon sunlight, heavy and golden, slanted through the windows on the right. The walls were lined with shelves and cupboards. In the centre of the room was a heavy oak table, its top stained with ink and scarred with cuts and scratches.
Mr Richardson advanced towards them with a book in his hand. ‘Mr Holdsworth, you are delightfully prompt -’
‘Please, sir,’ Soresby interrupted. ‘Will there be anything else?’
‘No, I suppose not just now. Unless Mr Holdsworth wishes to talk to you.’
Holdsworth shook his head.
‘But stay – I desire to talk to you about the loans book,’ Richardson went on, glancing down at a ledger lying open on the table. ‘I am not perfectly convinced that your method of recording them is the best possible.’
‘Please, sir, I have an errand.’
‘Very well – but we shall discuss this later.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Soresby bowed low and almost ran out of the room. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Forgive me, sir,’ Richardson said to Holdsworth. ‘I must pay constant attention to the minutiae of this library if it is to run smoothly. I try to ensure my procedures are followed in every particular. Now, how may I be of service to you?’
‘Pray continue with your work, sir,’ Holdsworth said, wondering if the scene with Soresby had been laid on for his benefit, to create an impression of competence and industry. ‘I would not disturb you for the world. I wish merely to make a preliminary inspection.’
‘Let me know if you need anything unlocked. The keys are here. Our more valuable books are in the wall cupboard on the left of the fireplace.’
Richardson sat down. Holdsworth made a slow tour of the room. There were smaller tables set for studies at right angles to the windows so they would catch the light. The bookcases had clearly been built for this place, and by somebody who knew what he was about. The shelves were protected by glazed doors. There were cupboards and drawers beneath. Everything that opened had a lock to keep it secure. At first sight, however, the contents of the bookcases were less impressive. The bindings were in poor repair. Many of the books dealt with theological matters no longer considered essential or even desirable to the education of future clergymen of the established Church. The classical authors were poorly represented, as were mathematics and all branches of mechanics.
When he had made a full circuit of the place, Holdsworth turned back to Richardson. ‘Tell me, does the library have a fund for the purchase of new books and the maintenance of its old ones?’
‘Not – not as such, sir. From time to time, the fellows grant a sum of money to the library for a particular purpose. And occasionally we are favoured with presentation copies from authors, or even a bequest.’
‘In other words, any additions to the library are on an ad hoc basis?’
‘Yes. It is not a perfect situation, I am afraid, and I wish we had a regular provision of funds. But we are better off than many other colleges. And of course we benefited from the generosity of the late earl, her ladyship’s father, which allowed us to fit out this splendid room.’
‘The room is splendid. The same cannot be said of the books it contains.’
‘We live in an imperfect world,’ Richardson said drily. ‘No one is more aware than I of the library’s deficiencies. Or of the world’s.’
When Holdsworth had finished his inspection, he went downstairs and walked slowly through the court. He heard footsteps and turned his head. Soresby was walking behind him with a large parcel clasped in his hands. The sizar was breathing heavily and there was sweat on his pale forehead.
‘Mr Soresby,’ Holdsworth said, stopping. He nodded at the parcel. ‘Have you been making a purchase?’
‘Oh no, sir – this is not for me. It is Mr Archdale’s. He asked me to collect it from his tailor’s. Though heaven knows -’ Soresby broke off, flushing.
‘Heaven knows what, Mr Soresby?’
‘I – I was merely about to observe that Mr Archdale will not require the coat until Wednesday so there does not seem to be a great rush. Still, he has been very particular about it, very pressing. He needs it for the HG Club dinner. The coat is in the club livery, and perhaps it is a matter of great moment to him.’