‘Couldn’t Mr. Prendergast; I’ve more regard for doing as I would be done by. When you see Edna, Honor—’
‘They are very respectable women,’ said the curate, standing his ground; ‘and it would be much better for her than letting it be said she gives herself airs.’
‘That’s all because we have had her up to the castle to sing.’
‘Well, so it is, I believe. They do say, too—I don’t know whether it is so—that the work has not been so well attended to, nor the children so orderly.’
‘Spite, spite, Mr. Prendergast; I had a better opinion of you than to think you could be taken in by the tongues of Wrapworth.’
‘Well, certainly I did hear a great noise the other day.’
‘I see how it is! This is a systematic attempt to destroy the impression I wished to produce.’
He tried to argue that he thought very well of Miss Murrell, but she would not hear; and she went on with her pretty, saucy abuse, in her gayest tones, as she tripped along the churchyard path, now, doubtless, too familiar to renew the associations that might have tamed her spirits. Perhaps the shock her
vivacity gave to the feeling of her friends was hardly reasonable, but it was not the less real; though, even in passing, Honora could not but note the improved condition of the two graves, now carefully tended, and with a lovely white rose budding between them.
A few more steps, and from the open window of the schoolhouse there was heard a buzz and hum, not outrageous, but which might have caused the item of discipline not to figure well in an inspector’s report; but Mr. Prendergast and Lucilla appeared habituated to the like, for they proceeded without apology.