“I was at Mrs. Doyle’s yesterday and she was telling me a lot about Mrs. Waring before we came. After Dacre’s birth, she said it was absolutely ghastly to see her with the child, she was terrified to hold it, and trembled like a leaf whenever she absolutely had to. Poor Mrs. Doyle, she got quite irritated and excited about one thing; it seems she could not nurse her own children at all, and that Mrs. Waring was a capital mother from that point of view, and Mrs. Doyle seemingly could not see at all why an unnatural little bundle of scientific data should score off her, a good wholesome creature made for a mother, in this manner.” “It was certainly too bad, and one would never have expected it of Mrs. Waring,” said the rector laughing. “Oh, and whenever Mary brought either of the babies to her or she met them in the corridors or about the grounds, Mrs. Doyle says her one request was that Mary should take the creature away and give it food, it looked faint! They were both huge, flourishing, healthy babies, I hear.” “Ruth,” said Mr. Fellowes suddenly, “I wish those people would keep away from church.” “You are shedding your sacerdotal character with a vengeance! What do you mean?” “You have no idea how they distract me, sitting there together with their eyes far away and their ears sealed, except at the odd times they give those spasmodic simultaneous starts, and twist their thoughts back for the minute to what’s going on.” “But, John, for the sake of the parish—” “If the parish can’t keep up to its ordinary pretty low water-mark without this prick to its piety it must be in a poor state, and even more of a discredit to me than I imagine. They are far too good to be asked to play this weekly farce for the parish’s sake. It was Hopkins, not I, who insisted upon this church-going and of course they gave in in their gracious simple way; and now, not even a water spout would stop them from coming, they are so concerned for my feelings. What a pair of unconscious Christians they are to be sure! One sees it cropping up in all directions.” “I wish it would appear anyway in the management of their children, I don’t see many traces of it there. When is this wretched experiment to be set going?” asked Mrs. Fellowes. “As soon as I can procure a suitable person to conduct it. I think I know a fellow who might do.” “What business have they with children, those two?” cried Mrs. Fellowes with a little spasm of pain twisting about her mouth. “I don’t believe those children ever got properly hugged in all their lives by that inhuman little mother of theirs. And oh, Gwen’s dress! That is awful!” “Ah, yes, that makes the whole affair very much sadder! Don’t you think dinner is ready? Yes, those children have a great deal to fight against, it isn’t their ancestors alone that will handicap them, poor little beggars.”