'
Mrs. P. 'But what has that to do with me?'
Miss E. 'Oh, we merely brought you forward as an example. You have
moved in cultured society, and he is of opinion that he is better
fitted to preach to people like you than to farmers.'
Mrs. M. 'Culture, fiddle-de-dee! Afore I was married, I lived in
the country. Five-and-twenty years I lived in it. Don't tell me.
A farmer with five hundred acres of land, or even a cowman who has
to keep a dozen cows in order and look after his own garden, wants
more brains than any of your fine town-folk. Ah, and our old parson
had a good bit more than any one of these half-witted curates such
as you see here in Brighton playing their popish antics in coloured
clothes.'
Mrs. Poulter was very angry.
'Mrs. Mudge,' she said, speaking to nobody in particular, and
looking straight before her, 'has chosen to-day of all days on which
to insult, I will not call it MY faith, but the faith of the
Catholic Church.'
Mr. Goacher at once intervened with his oil-can.
'My leanings, Mrs. Poulter, have latterly at any rate been in your
direction--without excesses, of course; but both you and I admit
that the Church is ample enough to embrace the other great parties
so long as there is agreement in essentials.
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