"I could bear a little trouble of that kind, methinks," said the rector; "but surely, Mrs. Bunnell, you do not justify such presumption as a common man saying that he knows his sins are forgiven?"
"The paralytic was but a common man to whom One said, 'Thy sins be forgiven thee!'" answered Mrs. Bunnell. "And why should you read the absolution in church if no one is to believe himself absolved?"
"Come, come, Bunnell, we want no conventicles here. You and Mr. Cheriton must settle your disputes elsewhere than at my tea-table."
"Nay, madam, she did but answer my question," said Mr. Cheriton, good-naturedly.
"Then you need not have asked such a question," returned the lady sharply. "I hate people who are always dragging religion in by the head and shoulders, reminding one of everything dismal that one wishes to forget. Commend me to a preacher like yourself, Mr. Cheriton, who gives us good moral discourses that don't make one uncomfortable. I hate the Methodists, with their rant and pretence of spirituality, and what not, and I hope if the preachers come here again, they will get a warm reception. Gentlemen, if you have finished your tea, we ask to be excused, as I propose to take my young friends to the theatre this evening."
The gentlemen took their leave on this hint, and Mrs. Bunnell also withdrew. Sir John's man came and carried him off, and we were left alone with my lady.
"Bunnell is a good creature, and devoted to me," said her ladyship, when we were by ourselves, "but I think I shall have to let her go if she keeps on with her high-flown notions. I told her the other day that she might be content to let Mr. Cheriton think for her in such matters; and what do you suppose she answered me? Why, that as Mr. Cheriton could not be saved or lost for her, she must needs think for herself. But come, it is time we were going. See, here is a fan apiece for you," pulling out a handful from a box; "take your choice."
"But, madam, I think we should be going home," said Amabel. "It is growing dark."
"Nonsense, child! You are going to the play with me, and then I will set you down at home, or bring you back here, if it is too late. Nay, not a word," with an imperative gesture, as Amabel would have spoken. "You are in my hands, and must do as you are bid."
She left the room for a few moments, and Amabel turned to me.