"Does that make so much difference?" asked Lady Margaret.
"It does make a very great difference," said Lady Margaret's husband, the parson, wishing to help the Bishop in his difficulty.
"I don't see it at all," said Mrs. Stantiloup. "The main spirit in the matter is just as manifest whether the lady is or is not allowed to look after the boys' linen. In fact, I despise him for making the pretence. Her doing menial work about the house would injure no one. It is her presence there,—the presence of a woman who has falsely pretended to be married, when she knew very well that she had no husband."
"When she knew that she had two," said Lady Margaret.
"And fancy, Lady Margaret,—Lady Bracy absolutely asked her to go to Carstairs! That woman was always infatuated about Dr. Wortle. What would she have done if they had gone, and this other man had followed his sister-in-law there. But Lord and Lady Bracy would ask any one to Carstairs,—just any one that they could get hold of!"
Mr. Momson was one whose obstinacy was wont to give way when sufficiently attacked. Even he, after having been for two days subjected to the eloquence of Mrs. Stantiloup, acknowledged that the Doctor took a great deal too much upon himself. "He does it," said Mrs. Stantiloup, "just to show that there is nothing that he can't bring parents to assent to. Fancy,—a woman living there as house-keeper with a man as usher, pretending to be husband and wife, when they knew all along that they were not married!"
Mr. Momson, who didn't care a straw about the morals of the man whose duty it was to teach his little boy his Latin grammar, or the morals of the woman who looked after his little boy's waistcoats and trousers, gave a half-assenting grunt. "And you are to pay," continued Mrs. Stantiloup, with considerable emphasis,—"you are to pay two hundred and fifty pounds a-year for such conduct as that!"
"Two hundred," suggested the squire, who cared as little for the money as he did for the morals.
"Two hundred and fifty,—every shilling of it, when you consider the extras."
"There are no extras, as far as I can see. But then my boy is strong and healthy, thank God," said the squire, taking his opportunity of having one fling at the lady. But while all this was going on, he did give a half-assent that Gus should be taken away at midsummer, being partly moved thereto by a letter from the Doctor, in which he was told that his boy was not doing any good at the school.