'An exemplary Christian, I am told,' said Mrs Proudie.
Dr Gwynne declared that he was very glad to hear it.
'I have not seen her Sabbath-day schools yet,' continued the lady, 'but I shall make a point of doing so before long.'
Dr Gwynne merely bowed at this intimation. He had something of Mrs
Proudie and her Sunday schools, both from Dr Grantly and Mr
Harding.
'By the bye, Master,' continued the lady, 'I wonder whether Mrs Grantly would like me to drive over and inspect her Sabbath-day school. I hear that it is most excellently kept.'
Dr Gwynne really could not say. He had no doubt Mrs Grantly would be most happy to see Mrs Proudie any day Mrs Proudie would do her the honour of calling: that was, of course, if Mrs Grantly should happen to be at home.
A slight cloud darkened the lady's brow. She saw that her offer was not taken in good part. This generation of unregenerated vipers was still perverse, stiffnecked, and hardened in their antiquity. 'The archdeacon, I know,' said she, 'sets his face against these institutions.'
At this Dr Gwynne laughed slightly. It was but a smile. Had he given his cap for it he could not have helped it.
Mrs Proudie frowned again. '"Suffer little children, and forbid them not,"' said she. 'Are we not to remember that, Dr Gwynne? "Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones." Are we not to remember that, Dr Gwynne?' And at each of these questions she raised at him a menacing forefinger.
'Certainly, madam, certainly,' said the master, 'and so does the archdeacon, I am sure, on week days as well as on Sundays.'