"What do you think, Mr. Murbles?" inquired her ladyship.
"I feel," said the lawyer, carefully stirring his coffee, "that, while your intention is a very admirable one, and does you very great credit, my dear lady, yet Mr. Arbuthnot is right in saying it may involve you in some—er—unpleasant publicity. Er—I have always been a sincere Christian myself, but I cannot feel that our religion demands that we should make ourselves conspicuous—er—in such very painful circumstances."
Mr. Parker reminded himself of a dictum of Lord Melbourne.
"Well, after all," said Mrs. Marchbanks, "as Helen so rightly says, does it matter? Nobody's really got anything to be ashamed of. There has been a stupid mistake, of course, but I don't see why anybody who wants to shouldn't go to church."
"Certainly not, certainly not, my dear," said the Colonel heartily. "We might look in ourselves, eh, dear? Take a walk that way I mean, and come out before the sermon. I think it's a good thing. Shows we don't believe old Denver's done anything wrong, anyhow."
"You forget, dear," said his wife, "I've promised to stay at home with Mary, poor girl."
"Of course, of course—stupid of me," said the Colonel. "How is she?"
"She was very restless last night, poor child," said the Duchess. "Perhaps she will get a little sleep this morning. It has been a shock to her."
"One which may prove a blessing in disguise," said Mrs. Pettigrew-Robinson.
"My dear!" said her husband.