Fan was distressed at being asked, but Mrs. Churton came almost instantly to her relief. “It is rather unfair to ask her, Nathaniel,” she said, with considerable severity in her voice. “The text was from Exodus—the tenth and eleventh verses of the sixteenth chapter.”
“Thanks—thanks, my dear. These tenths and elevenths and sixteenths are somewhat confusing to one's memory, but you always remember them. Yet, if my memory does not play me false, that is a text which most young ladies would remember. It refers, I think, to the Israelitish ladies making off with the jewellery—always a most fascinating subject.”
“It does not, Nathaniel,” she said sharply. “And I wish you would reflect that it is not quite in good taste to discuss sacred subjects in this light tone before—a stranger.”
“My dear, you know very well that I am the last person to speak lightly on such subjects.”
“I hope so. Let us say no more about it.”
“Very well, my dear; I'm quite willing to drop the subject. But, my dear, now that it occurs to me, why should I drop it? Why should you monopolise every subject connected with—with—ahem—our religious observances? It strikes me that you are a little unreasonable.”
His wife ignored this attack, and turning to Fan, remarked that the evening was so warm and lovely they might spend half an hour in the garden after supper.
“Yes, that will be charming,” said Mr. Churton. “We'll all go—Constance too,” he added, with a little vindictive cackle of laughter. “Don't be alarmed, my dear, I sha'n't smoke—pipes and religion strictly prohibited.”
“Mr. Churton!” said his wife.
“Yes, my dear.”