"And pray what sort of conferences do you have?" asked Mrs. Deborah. "Do not the people get into undesirable disputes."
"Oh no!" answered Mr. Lethbridge complacently. "I take care to prevent that by allowing no one to speak but myself."
"Rather an odd sort of conference meeting that, Brother Lethbridge, where the conference is all on one side, like the Irish gentleman's reciprocity," said Doctor Brown, with one of his jolly laughs. "Your pattern Mr. Wesley manages quite differently, as I understand. He allows the old folk to have their say, and I dare say it might be quite interesting to hear what they could find to talk about!" added the Doctor, as if struck by a sudden idea. "I am not sure but I should like to try it sometime. At any rate, it would give them pleasure, for old folk like to be listened to."
Mr. Lethbridge drew into his shell as his custom was when he thought himself assailed, and Doctor Brown began to talk about something else. It was one of Mr. Lethbridge's troubles that whenever any one criticised any of his methods, he always thought the cause of Christ was attacked. Nevertheless he was a good young man and a good preacher, visited the sick and the feeble faithfully, catechised the children and revived the school, which had fallen quite into disuse of late years.
Mrs. Deborah took a great interest in the matter, recommended a very capable and efficient school-mistress, and made liberal presents of working materials. Amabel and I visited this institution of learning twice or three times a week, helped to teach the children in sewing, reading, knitting, and the Catechism. And when the three girls who made the first class, got through their duty toward their neighbour without a stumble, we felt as proud as though we had made them ourselves.
People began to come to church on other occasions than to get themselves married or buried, and to join a little in the responses, and almost all agreed that Parson was a kind gentleman, and a good preacher and good to the poor, though he would look into matters for himself and refused the Shrove Tuesday dole to Betty Hackett, because he found out that she changed off her Christmas blankets at the alehouse.
Lent fell rather late that year, and about a fortnight before Shrove Tuesday, Mrs. Philippa surprised us all by coming down stairs to dinner, and still more astonished us by not finding fault with any thing on the table. She really made herself very agreeable, as she well knew how when she chose. But when she again appeared at supper, our surprise knew no bounds.
"These are very nice cheese-cakes!" said she in the course of the meal. "Pray, Sister Deborah, is this your usual receipt or have you a new one?"
The remark was not a startling one certainly, but when one considers that it was the first direct word Mrs. Philippa had addressed to Mrs. Deborah for more than twenty years, it is perhaps no wonder that Mrs. Chloe dropped her tea-cup, and that Amabel and I both tried so hard to look unconcerned, that it was well no strangers were present.
Mrs. Deborah however answered as quietly as though she had been chatting with her sister all day.