“Ex cathedrâ?” said Julius, as the graceful Muse seated herself in a large red arm-chair. “This scene is not an easy one in which to dispute it.”
“You see, Bessie,” said Mrs. Tallboys, “that men are so much afraid of the discussion that they try to elude it with empty compliment under which is couched a covert sneer.”
“Perhaps,” returned Julius, “we might complain that we can’t open our lips without compliments and sneers being detected when we were innocent of both.”
“Were you?” demanded Mrs. Tallboys.
“Honestly, I was looking round and thinking the specimens before us would tell in your favour.”
“What a gallant parson!” cried Miss Moy.
But a perfect clamour broke out from others.
“Julius, that’s too bad! when you know—”
“Mr Charnock, you are quite mistaken. Bob is much cleverer than I, in his own line—”
“Quite true, Rector,” affirmed Herbert; “Joan has more brains than all the rest of us—for a woman, I mean.”