A little touched, and a good deal amused, Marston went to see his wife. He kept his face straight as he addressed her. "Mrs. Marston, Manette's hand has been proposed for."
"George!"
"The Rev. Simon Marston has this moment come and solemnly laid his heart at my feet as proxy for Manette."
"He shall not have her, he shall not have her!" exclaimed the lady, rising angrily.
"But remember, Mrs. Marston, it will keep her coming to meeting."
"I do not care; he is an old hypocrite, that is what he is."
"Think, too, of what a noble work he is doing. It brings about a reconciliation between the east and west plantations, for which we have been hoping for years. You really oughtn't to lay a straw in his way."
"He's a sneaking, insidious, old scoundrel."
"Such poor encouragement from his mistress for a worthy old man, who only needs rest!"
"George!" cried Mrs. Marston, and she sank down in tears, which turned to convulsive laughter as her husband put his arm about her and whispered, "He is showing the true Christian spirit. Don't you think we'd better call Manette and see if she consents? She is one of his lambs, you know."