"Mrs. Pemberton asked us in quite an informal way," said the Vicar, ignoring the latter part of his wife's speech. "There may be others there, or there may be just ourselves. I must confess I should rather like to meet a few people from the other side of the county. The Pembertons are quite on the edge of our circle, and they're about the only decent people in it."
"Except our own people at Abington," Mrs. Mercer corrected him. "We are very lucky in the Graftons, I must say."
"Yes, I suppose we are, as things go," said the Vicar. "I would rather have had regular country people, though, than rich Londoners. They get absorbed in their friends whom they bring down, and aren't of so much use to their country neighbours as they might be."
"Oh, but Albert, they so often ask us to dine. I'm sure they are very hospitable."
"I don't know that they've asked us so very often. They've asked us very seldom when they've had their smart parties. I suppose, as country bumpkins, we're not good enough. There isn't the intimate air about the house, either, that one might expect. There's a formality. They don't seem to know what to do when one just drops in for a cup of tea, or perhaps just to say something in the morning. They're not used to that sort of thing in London; I know that perfectly well. But they ought to know that it's usual in the country, and not make such a business of it. I hate always being announced by that pompous old Jarvis. One ought to be able to run in and out of the house, just as one does, for instance, with the Walters. They never do it with us either. It's chiefly owing to Miss Waterhouse. A governess, as I suppose she was, and been put into a position that's been too much for her! There isn't the friendliness I like to see in young girls."
"Perhaps they're rather afraid of you, dear. They always give me quite a nice welcome, if I happen to go there without you, which I don't very often do. And they do run in and out of the cottage, and Mollie goes there. I'm glad they have taken such a fancy to Mollie. She's come out wonderfully since they made a friend of her."
"She has come out a little too much for my taste. I feared it would turn her head to be taken notice of, and I ventured to give a friendly word of warning, which was not received as it should have been—by Miss Waterhouse, whom it really had nothing to do with. I'm sorry to have to say it of Mollie, but I'm sadly afraid there's something of the snob in her. More than once she has had an engagement at the Abbey when I wanted her to do something for me. Of course people living in a big house come before old friends. That's understood. But I didn't think Mollie would turn out like that, I must confess."
"Oh, but Albert dear, I'm sure she wouldn't neglect you for anybody. You've been so kind to her, and it has meant such a lot to her, your making a companion of her, and all. But, of course, it is nice for girls to have other girls to be friends with. I'm sure it would be just the same if the Graftons lived in a small house instead of a big one."
"I beg leave to doubt it, Gertrude. But here we are. The drive is about half a mile long. We shan't see the house for some distance yet."
They had turned in at some handsome lodge gates, and were going along a winding road which ran between iron railings, with fields on either side of it.