Ferlie knew that Cyprian would consider it lamentably complicated. And wasn't Cyprian a little more experienced than Peter? If Cyprian had married Muriel—and an unaccountable coldness stole over Ferlie at the thought—it would certainly have been according to Herd Law, if not God's.
"You mean, Peter darling—Do you mean that you are living with this woman now?"
"Please remember that you are referring to My Wife, in the Eyes of God."
But Ferlie was considering the eyes of their uncle, the bishop. She wondered whether, as an only sister, she had done her duty by Peter. Mary might be a stupid old thing but she was led to believe, in spite of oneself, that she walked with God. Inspired by this realization Margery had conquered the pudding.
The Influence of The Good Woman was Mary's favourite subject for a Sunday Talk.
Mankind, she would say—she never called them "Men"—were uplifted by it, comforted in sorrow, healed in sickness, converted on death-beds.
"A lady with a lamp shall stand, etc...."
Peter, despite his lordly airs, was slightly pinker than usual and his eyes sought space above Ferlie's head. He had a beautiful skin, she thought. She did hope Phyllis was nice. She knew that her mother would have given up hope right away but, perhaps, parents, and even Cyprians, were a little out of date.
The Young were marching onwards, still soldiers, though not exactly Christian ones; because the old Christian Leader was out of date too. He was now just Jesus of Nazareth, the Founder of Christianity, as the Buddha was Gaudama Theiddatha, the Founder of Buddhism, and Mohammed the Founder of—was it Islam or Allah?
Said Peter, making a successful break-away from a pause which threatened to become uncomfortable, "I will introduce Phyllis to you, Ferlie; on the Q.T. We are relying on your support."