“Yes,” I said, “as right as the devil would have it.”
“I assure you, sir, I have done everything according to law.”
“I’m not so sure of that. I believe I had the right to be chairman at the vestry-meeting; but, instead of even letting me know, you took advantage of my illness to hurry on matters to this shameful and wicked excess.”
I did the poor man wrong in this, for I believe he had hurried things really to please me. His face had lengthened considerably by this time, and its rubicund hue declined.
“I did not think you would stand upon ceremony about it, sir. You never seemed to care for business.”
“If you talk about legality, so will I. Certainly YOU don’t stand upon ceremony.”
“I didn’t expect you would turn against your own churchwarden in the execution of his duty, sir,” he said in an offended tone. “It’s bad enough to have a meetin’-house in the place, without one’s own parson siding with t’other parson as won’t pay a lawful church-rate.”
“I would have paid the church-rate for the whole parish ten times over before such a thing should have happened. I feel so disgraced, I am ashamed to look Mr Templeton in the face. Carry that table into the house again, directly.”
“It’s my property, now,” interposed the broker. “I’ve bought it of the churchwarden, and paid for it.”
I turned to Mr Brownrigg.