“Well,” said the squire, singling out his enemy, “you're going to that fellow, I suppose, as usual—eh?”
“Not 'as usual,'” replied Mrs. Lovell, sweetly; “I wish it were!”
“Wish it were, do you?—you find him so entertaining? Has he got to talking of the fashions?”
“He talks properly; I don't ask for more.” Mrs. Lovell assumed an air of meekness under persecution.
“I thought you were Low Church.”
“Lowly of the Church, I trust you thought,” she corrected him. “But, for that matter, any discourse, plainly delivered, will suit me.”
“His elocution's perfect,” said the squire; “that is, before dinner.”
“I have only to do with him before dinner, you know.”
“Well, I've ordered a carriage out for you.”
“That is very honourable and kind.”