“So I do,” said Delia, with a smile; “in fact, I feel so lowly and reverent sometimes, that I could almost worship Mr Goodwin. I am ready to humble myself to the dust, when I hear him playing the violin.”
Mrs Winn was preparing to make a severe answer to this, when Miss Gibbins, who was tired of being silent, broke adroitly in, and changed the subject.
“You missed a treat last Thursday, Mrs Winn, by losing the Shakespeare reading. It was rather far to get out to Pynes, to be sure, but it was worth the trouble, to hear Mrs Hurst read ‘Arthur.’”
The curate’s wife gave a little smile, which quickly faded as Miss Gibbins continued: “I had no idea there was anything so touching in Shakespeare. Positively melting! And then Mrs Palmer looked so well! She wore that rich plum-coloured silk, you know, with handsome lace, and a row of most beautiful lockets. I thought to myself, as she stood up to read in that sumptuous drawing-room, that the effect was regal. ‘Regal,’ I said afterwards, is the only word to express Mrs Palmer’s appearance this afternoon.”
“What part did Mrs Palmer read?” asked Delia, as Miss Gibbins looked round for sympathy.
“Let me see. Dear me, it’s quite escaped my memory. Ah, I have it. It was the mother of the poor little boy, but I forget her name.—You will know, Mrs Hurst; you have such a memory!”
“It was Constance,” said the curate’s wife. “Mrs Palmer didn’t do justice to the part. It was rather too much for her. Indeed, I don’t consider that they arranged the parts well last time. They gave my husband nothing but ‘messengers,’ and the Vicar had ‘King John.’ Now, I don’t want to be partial, but I think most people would agree that Herbert reads Shakespeare rather better than the Vicar.”
“I wonder,” said Miss Gibbins, turning to Delia, as the murmur of assent to this speech died away, “that you haven’t joined us yet, but I suppose your studies occupy you at present.”
“But I couldn’t read aloud, in any case, before a lot of people,” said Delia, “and Shakespeare must be so very difficult.”
“You’d get used to it,” said Miss Gibbins. “I remember,” with a little laugh, “how nervous I felt the first time I stood up to read. My heart beat so fast I thought it would choke me. The first sentence I had to say was, ‘Cut him in pieces!’ and the words came out quite in a whisper. But now I can read long speeches without losing my breath or feeling at all uncomfortable.”