"No questions were asked," he says. "Subsequently it was elicited Deceased Wife's Sister. Information from Bishop Barham's lady at the Castle."
"But her ladyship had called when in London." The implication was that the Family's ægis, once extended, was not a thing that could be withdrawn without loss of prestige. Mr. Elphinstone can recall, with reflection, incidents bearing on this point.
"In my hearing," he says, "no one but the Family being present, strong opinions tending to liberality received sanction. His lordship the Bishop's lady being referred to as bigoted, Sir Murgatroyd especially exculpating. Parties happening to be other parties' Deceased Wife's Sisters said to be victims of equivocal state of Law. I should say, too—but this, Mrs. Protheroe, is merely opinion—that the voice of her Grace the Duchess had weight, being thrown in the scale on the side of Toleration." Mr. Elphinstone felt pleased with his figure of speech, although he knew it was not original. He was indebted for it to Mr. Ramsey Tomes, to whom he was an attentive listener.
"Her ladyship," said Mrs. Protheroe, "has been predisposed towards her Grace from a child. Addicted, you might almost say. Some do think her Grace's opinions too easy."
"In this case," said Mr. Elphinstone, who wished to pursue his sketch of the status quo, whatever it was, "nothin' applied. Owing, I should say, to the fundamental attitood of Mrs. Challis. Both young ladies, as well as her ladyship, having gone lengths—I assure you, Mrs. Protheroe, having gone great lengths."
The housekeeper was not inclined to admit that she knew less than the butler. "So I have understood," she said, and added nods about more things she knew, but held in reserve. But she would not entirely exclude Mr. Elphinstone. "Miss Sibyl behaved sweet, I must say. But it was just no use at all, any more than a lump of lead."
The butler looked introspective and analytical.
"You have to consider, ma'am," said he, unconsciously borrowing a phrase from Dr. Johnson, "that class-feeling may run high when least expected. Can we blame a lady of her style for refusing to mix? Especially when compliance leads to ructions."
Mrs. Protheroe looked thoughtful, too. "Once to dinner," she said. "Once to an evening. Afterwards excuses. No—Mr. Elphinstone. I'll tell you just how I see it. No lady would ever feel so to undervalue herself—not to the extent of denying herself. Their looks satisfy, personally, and give confidence. But, sought for in Society on behalf of their husbands—no!"
This way of putting the case would bear polishing, no doubt! But when we have said that no woman with any amour propre at all would keep out of brilliant Society on her merits, but might do so rather than be the mere satellite of a distinguished husband, have we improved so very much on Mrs. Protheroe's inexactitudes?