“That was a pleasant girl you had here,” he said, and got his sister-in-law’s attention. Duplessis did not look up from his plate, but he listened.
“You mean, I suppose——?”
“I mean Mrs. Bingham’s girl—the youngest of the three. I had a little chat with her, too—over our games. I was pleased with her friendly ways. They sit charmingly upon young ladies who are so apt to think that because their frocks are short their manners may be.”
Mrs. James spoke to her plate. “I think I understand, but am not altogether prepared to agree with you. Of course, at such gatherings one welcomes help; but I doubt whether it is wise to put ideas into heads which——”
“Which are not capable of holding ’em?” asked the Rector, using his eyebrows.
“Which can have little or no use for them, perhaps.”
Mr. Germain, having given this oracle due attention, pronounced upon it as if he were admonishing a poacher. “I am constrained to say that I did not observe a preponderance of ideas in Miss Cecily’s conversation.”
“Took the rails very neatly, I thought,” Duplessis put in, but Mrs. James was not to be balked.
“I don’t object to her taking rails or anything else of the sort. But I certainly think it a pity that she should take Mary Middleham’s arm, and walk among the children as if they were bosom friends.”
Mr. Germain squared his shoulders and lifted his head to reply. “Miss Middleham—” he said; but he was a slow beginner; Mrs. James had risen. It was her husband who fired the parting shot, that he would as soon take Mary Middleham’s arm as that of any one in the parish; and it was Duplessis, with his hand on the door, who received her answering shake of the head, and peered after her with quizzical eyes.