"I 'ope not, sir, I 'ope not. Now this evening you did it all to perfection, and all were very much obliged to you."
"Thank you, thank you very much," said Ringfield, his gaze wandering off to the hall where glimpses of drapery and musical clinking of bangles and bracelets assailed his senses. Miss Clairville was never without earrings and other jewelry, and if the proper idea of ornament is to attract attention to the parts thus graced, in her case there was reason for her wearing such, since she possessed both beautifully shaped ears and fine hands and arms.
"But, sir, the length of prayers is not all! Some of us could—I say this without fear of exaggeration—could go through the entire Litany and the Apostles' Creed backwards, which would take a man some time, and yet what would be the good of it? Stands to reason, sir, there must be something more than length, mere length of time in prayers."
"Of course, of course. You are quite right, Enderby."
"There must be appropriateness and truth and feeling, but none of it must bear too direct, says you—on the parties present or the occasion, be it wedding or funeral, or christening, or a mere social affair like the Harvest Home yonder. I see how it is with you; you can't always help it, for you can't always control your thoughts and likewise your words, not having no notes."
"But what did I say amiss on that occasion?" began Ringfield, nervously divining that this lecture was but the prelude to the statement that in some way he had offended. "I am quite sure, I am positively certain, that I had no intention of using words or phrases which were the reverse of appropriate or true, yet you seem to think that I was thus unfortunate."
Enderby gave a great sigh. "If you don't remember you mustn't find fault with my remembering, for it made quite a stir at the time. It quite took my wife's appetite away, sir."
"What did?" said Ringfield shortly.
"Your saying in that grieved, yet bold way, that we were all sinners, and that sinners were sitting even then at that very board."
"Was that all?" exclaimed the minister with sudden relief, and an uncontrollable smile. "Surely you are accustomed to that. Surely you do not consider yourselves in Hawthorne to be so perfect, so infallible, as to be beyond criticism and impatient of censure! If so, all I can say is I am very glad I used those terms, and I should say, I should think, that no matter what Church you belong to, you, Enderby, would see the absurdity of rating me for offering a prayer couched in the language most natural to me, and of which I am not ashamed. Do you deny that we are all sinners?"