"It proves what I say, then—that there should always be women on juries. However, she and Rossier had a narrow escape. They might have found themselves in a very unpleasant position."
"He wept, didn't he, and sheltered himself behind mademoiselle?"
"Well, he said, 'Qu'ai-je pu faire, moi, contre mademoiselle? Que pouvez-vous faire, messieurs, vous-mêmes?' They didn't understand him, of course, and Felixthorpe softened him down in the translating."
"Didn't the dear old Bart. try to apologize her away?"
"Yes—he tried to suggest that she saw me coming, and knew I should attend to poor Jim. But when the jury went over the ground, they saw that was utterly impossible.... Well!—she'll be a fizzing Duchess, as Bob Challis would say."
A pause followed, and then the Rector showed signs of sleepiness after a tiring day, asking whether it wasn't getting on for bedtime. And he had a right to be tired, because he had risen suddenly from dinner to go over to see old Mrs. Fox, at a summons conveyed by Jarge, the bee-tender, who had made shower the old dame was doyin'. She wasn't, and is still living, we believe. But the Rector had not got back till near ten, when he was glad of his comfortable day's-end chat with his wife. The news of Judith's engagement to the Duke's heir had come that morning, and had met him on his return from a visit to London, which he had left by an early train, after spending the previous evening at Challis's, where he stayed the night.
He paused a moment over knocking the ashes from his meerschaum, and began saying something. But he didn't get as far as a consonant. Then his wife said: "What were you going to say?"
"Don't know whether I ought to tell you this!..." said he.
"You must, now!"
"Well—you must be very, very careful not to repeat it. Challis didn't bind me over, certainly; but I know he meant confidence, all the same."