MARY [with conviction]. I'm perfectly certain he'll never stand a kid like me cheeking him and calling him names! Uncle William's quite right! . . . And that's why I've made up my mind that I sha'n't like him, after all!
MANSON. Indeed, I hope you will!
MARY. Do you believe in liking people simply because they're uncles?
MANSON. Perhaps I'm a prejudiced person.
MARY. I know exactly what he'll be—goody-goody, isn't he? You know—religious, and all that!
MANSON. God forbid!
MARY [fearfully]. Oh, perhaps he's the other sort—like auntie's brother! He's a bishop—the Bishop of Lancashire. You see, I've heard a lot about bishops in my time, and they're not always quite nice men.
MANSON. And what sort is the Bishop of Lancashire?
MARY. Well, I don't think I ought to tell you; but I once heard Uncle William call him a devil!—And he's a clergyman!
MANSON. Your Uncle Joshua's reputation is exactly opposite.