"You didn't find a married Rector for Surley," said his niece, with another provocative look at Mr. Leadbetter, who met it with bland unconsciousness.
"Music is a great thing to bring people together," he said, "and I suppose dancing too. But I have never danced, myself."
The eyes of Beatrix and the Bishop met again, and this time she had great difficulty in preventing herself from embracing him.
"That will only be a part of what we should want to do," Caroline said; "but it would be rather important to have the clergyman on our side. If you want to get people together, he is the best man to do it, and he ought to know them better than anybody."
"Yes, he ought to," said the Bishop's wife.
"He does, if he is the right sort of man," said the Bishop. "I think any incumbent might think himself fortunate in having you to help him in his work, my dear."
Caroline's face fell a little, and the Bishop noticed it. Afterwards he asked his niece why it was.
She thought for a moment, and then looked up with a smile. "To tell you the truth, Uncle," she said, "and to risk your displeasure, Caroline and I are rather fed up with the talk of a clergyman's work. I won't say anything about this place, but at Abington it seemed to mean nothing but interference, and trying to bring people into line all round. Caroline refused to go visiting, as she was asked to do. Of course she does go to see people, just as much perhaps as if she set out to do it as a regular duty, in the way that the Coopers did here, and never ceased talking about and patting themselves on the back for it. But she likes to go where they know she comes as a friend, and will be pleased to see her. She hates to think of that sort of thing as work."
"I don't know why you should think you risk my displeasure in telling me that, my dear," said the Bishop.