and the son could only smile, and
turn the subject, by asking after the produce of some particular field
that had been prolific or obstinate in the old days. Mrs. Thornberry
looked absent, and was thinking of the rectory; the grandson who
had accompanied them was silent and supercilious; and everybody felt
relieved when Mrs. Thornberry, veiling her impatience by her fear of
keeping her father-in-law up late, made a determined move and concluded
the domestic ceremony.

The rectory afforded a lively contrast to the late scene. Mr. and Mrs.
Penruddock were full of intelligence and animation. Their welcome of
Mr. Thornberry was exactly what it ought to have been; respectful, even
somewhat differential, but cordial and unaffected. They conversed on all
subjects, public and private, and on both seemed equally well informed,
for they not only read more than one newspaper, but Mrs. Penruddock had
an extensive correspondence, the conduct of which was one of the chief
pleasures and excitements of her life. Their tea-equipage, too, was a
picture of abundance and refinement. Such pretty china, and such various
and delicious cakes! White bread, and brown bread, and plum cakes, and
seed cakes, and no end of cracknels, and toasts, dry or buttered. Mrs.
Thornberry seemed enchanted and gushing with affection,--everybody was
dear or dearest. Even the face of John Hampden beamed with condescending
delight as he devoured a pyramid of dainties.

Just before the tea-equipage was introduced Mrs. Penruddock rose from
her seat and whispered something to Mrs. Thornberry, who seemed pleased
and agitated and a little blushing, and then their hostess addressed Job
and said, "I was mentioning to your wife that the archbishop was here,
and that I hope you would not dislike meeting him."

And very shortly after this, the archbishop, who had been taking a
village walk, entered the room. It was evident that he was intimate with
the occupiers of Hurstley Hall. He addressed Mrs. Thornberry with the
ease of habitual acquaintance, while John Hampden seemed almost to rush
into his arms. Job himself had seen his Grace in London, though he
had never had the opportunity of speaking to him, but yielded to his
cordiality, when the archbishop, on his being named, said, "It is a
pleasure to meet an old friend, and in times past a kind one."

It was a most agreeable evening. The archbishop talked to every one,
but never seemed to engross the conversation. He tal