"Why, you see that kind of thing in every newspaper," said Roughsedge, bluntly.
"All the more reason why I should endeavor to keep my parish free from it," was the Vicar's resolute reply. "However, there is no more to be said. I wished Mrs. Roughsedge to understand what had happened--that is all."
He paused, and offered a limp hand in good-bye.
"Let me speak to Miss Mallory," said Mrs. Roughsedge, soothingly.
The Vicar shook his head.
"She is a young lady of strong will." And with a hasty nod of farewell to the Captain, whose hostility he divined, he walked away.
"And what about obstinate and pig-headed parsons!" said Roughsedge, hotly, addressing his remark, however, safely to the Vicar's back, and to his mother. "Who makes him a judge of what we shall read! I shall make a point of asking for both the books!"
"Oh, my dear Hugh!" cried his mother, in rather troubled protest. Then she happily reflected that if he asked for them, he was not in the least likely to read them. "I hope Miss Mallory is not really an unbeliever."
"Mother! Of course, what that poker in a wide-awake did was to say something uncivil about her father, and she wasn't going to stand that. Quite right, too."
"She did come to church on Christmas Day," said Mrs. Roughsedge, reflecting. "But, then, a great many people do that who don't believe anything. Anyway, she has always been quite charming to your father and me. And I think, besides, the Vicar might have been satisfied with your father's opinion--he made no complaint about the books. Oh, now the Miss Bertrams are going to stop us! They'll of course know all about it!"