Mrs. Gaunt observed that, and tacked on, "Speaking by the lips of his servant." But she fired again the next moment, and said, "The grave hath given us back St. Paul in the Church's need; and I have heard him this day." "Good heavens! where?" "At St. Mary's Chapel." Then Griffith looked very incredulous. Then she gushed out with, "What, because it is a small chapel, you think a great saint cannot be in it. Why, our Saviour was born in a stable, if you go to that." "Well, but my dear, consider," said Griffith; "who ever heard of comparing a living man to St. Paul, for preaching? Why, he was an apostle, for one thing; and there are no apostles nowadays. He made Felix tremble on his throne, and almost persuaded Whatsename, another heathen gentleman, to be a Christian." "That is true," said the lady, thoughtfully; "but he sent one man that _we_ know of to sleep. Catch Brother Leonard sending any man to sleep! And then nobody will ever say of _him_ that he was long preaching." "Why, I do say it," replied Griffith. "By the same token, I have been waiting dinner for you this half-hour, along of his preaching." "Ah, that's because you did not hear him," retorted Mrs. Gaunt: "if you had, it would have seemed too short, and you would have forgotten all about your dinner for once." Griffith made no reply, He even looked vexed at her enthusiastic admiration. She saw, and said no more. But after dinner she retired to the grove, and thought of the sermon and the preacher: thought of them all the more that she was discouraged from enlarging on them. And it would have been kinder, and also wiser, of Griffith, if he had encouraged her to let out her heart to him on this subject, although it did not happen to interest him. A husband should not chill an enthusiastic wife, and, above all, should never separate himself from her favourite topic, when she loves him well enough to try and share it with him. Mrs. Gaunt, however, though her feelings were quick, was not cursed with a sickly or irritable sensibility; nor, on the other hand, was she one of those lovely little bores who cannot keep their tongues off their favourite theme. She quietly let the subject drop for a whole week; but the next Sunday morning she asked her husband if he would do her a little favour. "I'm more likely to say ay than nay," was the cheerful reply. "It is just to go to chapel with me; and then you can judge for yourself." Griffith looked rather sheepish at this proposal; and said he could not very well do that. "Why not, dearest, just for once?" "Well, you see, parties run so high in this parish; and everything one does is noted. Why, if I was to go to chapel, they'd say directly, 'Look at Griffith Gaunt: he is so tied to his wife's apron he is going to give up the faith of his ancestors.'" "The faith of your ancestors! That is a good jest. The faith of your grandfather at the outside: the faith of your ancestors was the faith of mine and me."