"A dangerous woman" he called Sister Cecilia in his most gloomy voice,
and a parson must perforce fear dangerous women. That is one of the
trials of the ministry.
Mrs. Agar laughed in a forced manner.
"Of course," she said--she had a habit of beginning her remarks with
these two words--"of course, we need not think of such questions yet. I
am sure all _I_ want is the happiness of the dear children."
"Umph!" ejaculated Mr. Glynde, who was not always a model of politeness.
"That, I am sure," continued Mrs. Agar, with a dabbing
pocket-handkerchief, "is the dearest wish of us all."
"When does the boy come home?" inquired the Rector.
"Oh, in a week. I am so longing for him to come. He has to go to town to
get some clothes, which will delay his return by one night."
"Is he doing any good this term?"
Mrs. Agar looked slightly hurt.
"Well, he always works very hard, I am only afraid that he should overdo
it. You know, I suppose, that he did not get through his examination this
term.
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