Volume Ii Part 11 (1/2)
But the cousins were far too amused at the incident to come to his a.s.sistance. Georgie could not forbear a smile, while Lucy burst into inextinguishable peals of silvery laughter.
”She wants your blessing, Mr. Puffin, that's all,” said Lucy at length.
”Then she should come to church, Miss Warrender,” exclaimed Mr. Puffin, to whose hand the _bonne_ clung, alternately kissing it and gazing up at him with imploring eyes.
”She thinks you are a Catholic priest,” exclaimed Lucy.
”This is too horrible,” cried the Reverend Barnes Puffin, as he vainly struggled to release the imprisoned hand.
”Ah, _mon pere_,” vociferated the _bonne_.
”Goodness me, she says I'm her father; pray explain, dear ladies. Is her mind affected?”
And then Miss Warrender did explain to her.
On hearing that the unhappy curate was not a priest of her own Church, but only, as Lucy had expressed it, a heretical Protestant pastor, Fanchette's demeanour changed altogether.
”_Ah, gredin, farceur, monsieur est en travesti. Saperlotte_,” she added, and here she snapped her fingers in the astonished curate's face, and abruptly left the room.
The curate sank into a chair and wiped his brow with his pocket-handkerchief.
”Goodness me, ladies,” he said, ”what a terrible person! I a.s.sure you I didn't mean to exasperate her.”
From that day Fanchette ceased her respectful obeisances to the curate, but his visits to The Warren, where he was always a welcome guest, became gradually more frequent.
It is human nature after all ever to strive after the impossible, and Mr. Puffin recognizing in Miss Warrender a young lady who was essentially of the world worldly, naturally determined to attempt her conversion. But the spirit of contrariety is ever strongly developed in the female breast. As the parson became more pertinacious, Miss Warrender, who was at first rather bored than otherwise by his eloquence, resolved upon reprisals.
”I'll bet you a new bonnet,” she had said to Haggard, ”that I make the Celibate propose to me.”
”Not he, my dear,” said Georgie's husband with a laugh. ”Puffin's not altogether a fool after all; he's got the run of his teeth in this house, and he won't care to lose it by making an a.s.s of himself.”
”My dear Miss Warrender, my husband's curate considers himself as vowed to heaven,” said Mrs. Dodd, who was present.
”They all do, Mrs. Dodd, till they find metal more attractive. I daresay even Mr. Dodd considered himself at one time as vowed to heaven.”
”There is no a.n.a.logy, Miss Warrender, between my husband's case and that of Mr. Puffin. When Mr. Dodd proposed to me, Miss Warrender, he did so as a beneficed clergyman; and he proposed to the daughter of a dignitary of the Church. Had Mr. Dodd been a curate, he would not have so far forgotten his position as to have been guilty of so presumptuous an act.”
”But I'm only Squire Warrender's niece, Mrs. Dodd; there would be no presumption in my case.”
”Don't buoy yourself up with false hopes, Lucy. Were Mr. Puffin to be guilty of such unseemly folly, it would be my duty, as his vicar's wife, to seriously remonstrate with him; and should he prove obdurate, even to dispense with his services. The position of a clergyman's wife, Lucy Warrender, is full of difficulty and responsibility,” she added sententiously.
”That's what makes me long for it so, Mrs. Dodd. I yearn to feel myself lifted out of the common ruck of women.”
”You are unmaidenly, Lucy Warrender,” said the vicar's wife, instantly a.s.suming her favourite tone of a Lord Chief Justice.
Miss Hood smiled, for she felt that the badinage was sober earnest to Mrs. Dodd; but she made no remark, for Lucy was long ago out of leading strings.
When the vicar's wife reached her home, she sent for Mr. Puffin. After she had shaken hands with him, she came to the point at once.
”I trust you are comfortable here, Mr. Puffin,” she said, ”and that you find King's Warren a congenial sphere.”