"I was not studying politeness just then,"—he answered—"I was exercising my own authority."
"Oh!" She paused. "Lady Beaulyon and the others did not like it at all. They thought you were trying to make us ashamed of ourselves."
"They were right,"—he said, cheerfully—"I was!"
"Well,—you succeeded,—in a way. But I was angry!"
He smiled.
"Were you, really? How dreadful! But you got over it?"
"Yes,"—she said, meditatively—"I got over it. I suppose you were right,—and of course we were wrong. But aren't you a very arbitrary person?"
His eyes sparkled mirthfully.
"I believe I am. But I never ask anyone to attend church,—everyone in the parish is free to do as they like about that. Only if people do come, I expect them to be punctual,—that's all."
"I see! And if they're not, you make them feel very small and cheap about it. People don't like being made small and cheap,—I don't, for instance. Now good-bye! You are coming to dine next week, remember!"