Hugh preferred roast-beef, but ate anything.
“What sort of a clergyman have you now, Mr. Arnold?” asked Mrs. Elton, at the dinner-table.
“Oh! a very respectable young gentleman, brother to Sir Richard, who has the gift, you know. A very moderate, excellent clergyman he makes, too!”
“All! but you know, Lady Emily and I”—here she looked at Lady Emily, who smiled and blushed faintly, “are very dependent on our Sundays, and”—
“We all go to church regularly, I assure you, Mrs. Elton; and of course my carriage shall be always at your disposal.”
“I was in no doubt about either of those things, indeed, Mr. Arnold. But what sort of a preacher is he?”
“Ah, well! let me see.—What was the subject of his sermon last Sunday, Euphra, my dear?”
“The devil and all his angels,” answered Euphra, with a wicked flash in her eyes.
“Yes, yes; so it was. Oh! I assure you, Mrs. Elton, he is quite a respectable preacher, as well as clergyman. He is an honour to the cloth.”
Hugh could not help thinking that the tailor should have his due, and that Mr. Arnold gave it him.