“Archbishop, was he?” said Cheriton. “I only knew him in his capacity of a bore.”
Each of the three ladies was susceptible of a little quiver of horror.
“Pray where did you meet him?” demanded Lady Charlotte Greg, with dilated nostril.
“In the House,” said Cheriton. “Shockin’ bore in the House.”
Lady Charlotte raised her glasses with studious care.
“The domestic life of Archbishop Coxby was renowned for its simplicity,” said she.
A pause surcharged with suppressed emotion followed, and then the ludicrous drawl of Miss Perry was heard in the land.
“I think a sale of work is too sweet,” said that Featherbrain. “We always have one once a year in the parish-room at Slocum Magna.”
The Miss Champneys and Lady Charlotte Greg received this announcement with a frosty disdain which, sad to relate, had not the least effect upon Miss Perry. The fine shades of social feeling did not percolate to that obtuse person.
“That is very interesting, my dear Miss Goose,” said Cheriton, in his most mellifluous manner; “very interesting indeed.”