“Now you look something like a newly-married lady, with a husband that grudges you nothing,” Mrs. Bates said proudly, on that day when the Green shuddered at Mrs. Arthur’s new costume, and resolved with one mind, now at least, that nobody could be expected to call. But such resolutions did not always overcome the stronger inducements of curiosity, or of that pity and interest which moved some bosoms. Mrs. Eagles was the first to break the reserve. Her husband insisted upon it, she said. And she not only called, but asked “the Arthur Curtises” to dinner. Mrs. Eagles was a mild little woman, as soft-voiced as her husband was peremptory. She avowed frankly that she had been “very fond” of Arthur while he lived in her house. “He was so nice, he never would give any trouble that he could help, so unlike your _parvenus_; he was always so ready to do anything for you. Yes, I was very fond of him. The pupils are not attractive as a rule, but young Mr. Curtis was charming.” This was what she said to her neighbours when it was known that she had asked the bride to dinner, the boldest thing that had been done on the Green for many a day. “I hope you found _her_ charming, too,” said the Vicar’s wife, who was not disposed to compromise her dignity in such a way. Mrs. Eagles took a little time to answer the question, and cleared her throat. “She is--quite unformed--I almost wonder that associating with a well-bred man should have had so little effect upon her manners. But then, she is natural--she has no affectations; that is always something,” said Mrs. Eagles, which was not the case with the Vicar’s wife. She did not, however, ask the dignified couple from the vicarage, but only a humbler newly married curate to meet the young pair, who, for their part, were thrown into considerable excitement by the invitation. How Nancy might have taken it on her own account is doubtful; but the delight of her family had driven all thoughts from her mind but those of delightful elevation in the world and entrance into society. “It’s only a schoolmaster, it is true,” said Mrs. Bates; “no better, indeed not so good as ourselves, for I never was brought to such a pass that I had to take in lodgers to interfere with the family. I always was able to keep ourselves to ourselves, and of course the pupils are all the same as lodgers; but still you’ll meet the real gentry there, my pet, and it will be a beginning, and you needn’t be shy with people like them.” Thus encouraged, Nancy allowed herself to feel that to go out to a party was pleasant. For she too, though she had the distractions of her family and her housekeeping, was growing a little tired perhaps of the drop scene.