But to return to the party; a rattling country dance called out at once the energies of the piper, the fiddler, and the ladies and gentlemen, and left those who had more activity in their heads than their heels to sit on the forms in the background and exercise their tongues in open scandal of their mutual friends and acquaintances under cover of the music, which prevented the most vigorous talker from being heard further than his or her next-door neighbour. Dr. Growling had gone over to Mrs. Gubbins', as desired, and was buried deep in gossip.
"What an extraordinary affair that was about Miss O'Grady, doctor."
"Very, ma'am."
"In the man's bed she was, I hear."
"So the story goes, ma'am."
"And they tell me, doctor, that when her father, that immaculate madman—God keep us from harm!—said to poor Mrs. O'Grady, in a great rage, 'Where have you brought up your daughters to go to, ma'am?' said he; and she, poor woman, said, 'To church, my dear,' thinking it was the different religion the Saracen was after; so, says he, 'Church, indeed! there's the church she's gone to, ma'am,' says he, turning down a quilted counterpane."
"Are you sure it was not Marseilles, ma'am?" said the doctor.
"Well, whatever it was, 'There's the church she is in,' says he, pulling her out of the bed."
"Out of the bed?" repeated the doctor.
"Out of the bed, sir!"