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And Mr. Bent plunged boldly into general conversation. "Are you reading anything now, Mrs. Garstein Fellows?" he asked. "I'm an interested party." She was standing at the side of the fireplace. She bit her lip and looked at the cornice and meditated with a girlish expression. "Yes," she said. "I am reading again. I didn't think I should but I am."
"What did she mean," asked Lady Ella abruptly, "by talking of your new views? And about revelations?" "She probably misunderstood something I said at the Garstein Fellows'," he said. "She has rather a leaping mind." He turned to the window, looked at his nails, and appeared to be suddenly reminded of duties elsewhere....
He put down the names and brief characteristics of their sons and daughters in a little note-book and consulted it before every visit so as to get his most casual enquiries right. And he invited himself to the Garstein Fellows house on this occasion by telegram. "A special mission and some business in Wombash may I have a scrap of supper and a bed?" Now Mrs.
Garstein Fellows reckoned without the morbid sensibility of the bishop's disorganized nervous system and the unsuspected theological stirrings beneath the apparent worldliness of Hoppart and Bent. The trouble began in the drawing-room after dinner.
Garstein Fellows saw it, and her method was to classify her acquaintances according to their systems, to keep them in their proper bundles, and to give every one the treatment he or she was accustomed to receive. And since all things British are now changing and passing away, it may not be uninteresting to record the classification Mrs. Garstein Fellows adopted.
At the skirts of this crowning British world Mrs. Garstein Fellows tugged industriously and expensively. She did not keep a carriage and pair and an old family coachman because that, she felt, would be considered pushing and presumptuous; she had the sense to stick to her common unpretending 80 h.p.
Garstein Fellows was by nature and principle a late riser; the breakfast-room showed small promise yet of the repast, though the table was set and bright with silver and fresh flowers, and a wood fire popped and spurted to greet and encourage the March sunshine. But standing in the doorway that led to the promise and daffodils and crocuses of Mrs.
Garstein Fellows to succeed very conspicuously in the British world, and the British world she felt was a complicated one; it is really not one world but several, and if you would surely succeed you must keep your peace with all the systems and be a source of satisfaction to all of them. So at least Mrs.
"I've had no rows of penitents yet." "We may be coming," said Hoppart. He turned sideways to face the bishop. "I think we should be coming if if it wasn't for old entangled difficulties. I don't know if you will mind my saying it to you, but...." The bishop returned his frank glance. "I'd like to know above all things," he said. "If Mrs. Garstein Fellow will permit us. It's my business to know."
"Shall we eva, do 'ou think, have a new 'iligion t'ua and betta?" That was a revolutionary idea to him. He was still fending it off from him when a gap in the shrubs brought them within sight of the house and of Mrs. Garstein Fellows on the portico waving a handkerchief and crying "Break-fast." "I wish we could talk for houas," said Lady Sunderbund. "I've been glad of this talk," said the bishop.
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