‘To lecture, sir.’
‘I beg your pardon. I forgot. You don’t go to meeting, I think?’
Here the lady on the right of Mrs Brick gave a pious cough as much as to say ‘I do!’—as, indeed, she did nearly every night in the week.
‘A good discourse, ma’am?’ asked Mr Bevan, addressing this lady.
The lady raised her eyes in a pious manner, and answered ‘Yes.’ She had been much comforted by some good, strong, peppery doctrine, which satisfactorily disposed of all her friends and acquaintances, and quite settled their business. Her bonnet, too, had far outshone every bonnet in the congregation; so she was tranquil on all accounts.
‘What course of lectures are you attending now, ma’am?’ said Martin’s friend, turning again to Mrs Brick.
‘The Philosophy of the Soul, on Wednesdays.’
‘On Mondays?’
‘The Philosophy of Crime.’
‘On Fridays?’