he pew. "I wish Gresley would not call the
Dissenters worms. They are some of my best tenants, and they won't like
it when they hear of it. And I'll go round the young pheasants. (Doll
did this, or something similar, every Sunday afternoon of his life, but
he always rehearsed it comfortably in thought on Sunday mornings.) And
if Withers is about I'll go out in the boat--the big one, the little one
leaks--and set a trimmer or two for to-morrow. I'm not sure I'll set one
under the south bank, for there was the devil to pay last time, when
that beast of an eel got among the roots. I'll ask Withers what he
thinks. I wish Gresley would not call the Dissenters blind leaders of
the blind. It's such bad form, and I don't suppose the text meant that
to start with, and what's the use of ill-feeling in a parish? And I'll
take Scarlett with me. We'll slip off after luncheon, and leave that
bounder to bound by himself. And poor old Crack shall come too. Uncle
George always took him."

* * * * *

"James is simply surpassing himself," said Mrs. Gresley to herself, her
arm round her little daughter. "Worms what a splendid comparison! The
Churchman, the full-grown man after the stature of Christ, and the
Dissenter invertebrate (I think dear James means inebriate), like a worm
cleaving to the earth. But possibly God in His mercy may let them slip
in by a back-door to heaven! How like him to say that, so generous, so
wide-minded, taking the hopeful view of everything! How noble he looks!
These are days in which we should stick to our colors. I wonder how he
can think of such beautiful things. For my part, I think the duty of the
true priest is not to grovel to the crowd and call wrong right and right
wrong for the sake of a fleeting popularity. How striking! What a lesson
to the Bishop, if he were only here. He is so lax about Dissent, as if
right and wrong were mere matters of opinion! What a gift he has! I know
he will eat nothing for luncheon. If only we were somewhere else where
the best joints were a little cheaper, and his talents more
appreciated." And Mrs. Gresley closed her eyes and prayed earnestly, a
tear sliding down her cheek on to Mary's floss-silk mane, that she might
become less unworthy to be the wife of one so far above her, that the
children might all grow up like him, and that she might be given
patience to bear with Hester even when she vexed him.

* * * *