"Well, upon my word!" The vicar was well-nigh jolted out of his composure. He pulled himself together only by a strong effort. "Leave the room," he said. "Apologise, and leave the room."
"What am I to apologise for?"
"For gross impertinence."
After a minute's pause.
"I have not been impertinent," she said, "and I shall not apologise. I think you in the wrong."
She walked out of the room, leaving an angry man behind her.
* * * * * * * *
The vicar's quiet insolence had aroused Alfred Dow, as it roused all his parishioners, to a feeling of active hostility. He felt a desire to get the better of him, if he could.
He sent a man next day with a note from Mrs. Dow to Mrs. Cooper—a note which the old lady had written with many protests, telling her son he was "nobbut a giddy fool" to be asking such a thing of her. Why should she make her best cheese-cakes for "them loompin' lasses o' passon's?"—when madam treated all dissenters as the dirt beneath her feet?
Mrs. Cooper was very undecided as to what answer she should return, when the unwelcome note arrived. On the one hand, she detested the Dows, and did not like to be indebted to them. They had never invited her girls before; she felt that this invitation was really on Melicent's account. Furthermore, Melicent was in disgrace, and did not deserve a treat. On the other hand, she knew that her five, who were never asked out, longed to go. It would be a sign to the whole village of a splendid condescension, did she allow it. Also, the fact of their being engaged to go to Crow Yat, would furnish an excuse, should Lady Burmester arrive on Wednesday, as seemed likely, with more invitations to Melicent. The vicar was for refusing; but he was disregarded. Melicent must be taught the difference between condescending to drink tea with one's inferiors and addressing them, when you met them, as equals.