Mrs. Layton still felt angry, but her anger did not interfere with her appetite. She ate and drank to her heart’s content, and then she began talking to John Temple.
“So you were at church this morning, Mr. John?” she said. “Well, it’s a poor place, and needs a great deal of alteration, but all these things cost money.”
The squire turned a deaf ear to his mother-in-law’s remark, but John answered courteously:
“I thought it all seemed very nice,” he answered. “Of course, you can not expect everything in an old-fashioned country church.”
“Yes, old-fashioned, that is the word,” echoed Mrs. Layton, eagerly. “Look at those galleries! Did you ever see such things? They should come down, but as I said before it all costs money, and people won’t give it, and the vicar won’t rouse himself.”
The vicar looked mildly up from his plate at this remark, and that was all.
“And talking of the galleries,” went on Mrs. Layton, speaking with great rapidity, “did you notice that absurd hat that Margaret Churchill wore this morning? Absolutely preposterous! I suppose that is what you call a picture hat?” she added, looking at her daughter.
“I thought it seemed a very elegant affair!” scoffed Mrs. Temple. “What did you think of it, my nephew John?”
“Don’t be shocked at my bad taste when I confess I never noticed it,” replied John Temple, smiling.
“You only saw the face beneath?” questioned Mrs. Temple.