hen you are in the dock--the dock, ma'am!'

'Me in the dock?' screeched Mrs Pansey, shaking all over, but more from
fear than wrath. 'How--how--dare you?'

'I dare anything to stop your wicked tongue. Everybody hates you; some
people are fools enough to fear you, but I don't,' cried Miss Whichello,
erecting her crest; 'no, not a bit. One word against me, or against Mab,
and I'll have you up for defamation of character, as sure as my name's
Selina Whichello.'

'I--I--I don't want to say a word,' mumbled Mrs Pansey, beginning to
give way, after the manner of bullies when bravely faced.

'You had better not. I have the bishop and all Beorminster on my side,
and you'll be turned out of the town if you don't mind your own
business. Oh, I know what I'm talking about,' and Miss Whichello gave a
crow of triumph, like a victorious bantam.

'I am not accustomed to this--this violence,' sniffed Mrs Pansey,
producing her handkerchief; 'if you--if you don't go, I'll call my
servants.'

'Do, and I'll tell them what I think of you. I'm going now.' Miss
Whichello rose briskly. 'I've had my say out, and you know what I intend
to do if you meddle with my affairs. Good-day, Mrs Pansey, and good-bye,
for it's a long time before I'll ever cross words with you again,
ma'am,' and the little old lady marched out of the room with all the
honours of war.

Mrs Pansey was completely crushed. She knew quite well that Miss
Whichello was speaking the truth about the marriage, and that none of
her own inventions could stand against the production of the
certificate. Moreover, she could not battle against the Bishop of
Beorminster, or risk a realisation of Miss Whichello's threat to have
her into court. On the whole, the archdeacon's widow concluded that it
would be best for her to accept her defeat quietly and hold her tongue.
This she did, and never afterwards spoke anything but good about young
Mrs Pendle and her aunt. She even sent a wedding present, which was
accepted by the victor as the spoils of war, and was so lenient in her
speeches regarding the young couple that all Beorminster was amazed, and
wished to know if Mrs Pansey was getting ready to join the late
archdeacon. Hitherto the old lady had stormed and bullied her way
through a meek and terrified world; but now she had been met and
conquered and utterly overthrown. Her nerve was gone, and with it went
her influence. Never again did she exercise her venomous tongue. To use
a vulg