Mrs Greendale was going on with all the fluency of which she was capable, and that was no trifle, to recommend the exclusion of the young lady from the impending party which threatened on the morrow to grace the rectory-house of the village of Smatterton; but suddenly the loudness of her tones abated, and the words came slower, and her countenance looked blank with an expression of interrogation; for, as she was speaking, the worthy rector drew himself up to full sitting length, opened his eyes unusually wide, compressed his lips unusually close, and placing his hands in the arms of his chair, before his spouse had ceased speaking, he exclaimed-- “My good woman, what are you talking about?” “Mrs Greendale certainly thought herself a very good woman, but she did not like to be so called. She was therefore somewhat confounded, and she replied with an expression of confusion-- “But, my dear, did not you say yourself that you did not wish your niece to be introduced to persons of such high rank as Miss Spoonbill and Colonel Crop?” Speaking more slowly, and in a tone of expostulation, the good man replied-- “I did say, Mrs Greendale, that I had no wish to introduce my niece to an intimacy with such persons of rank as Miss Spoonbill and Colonel Crop. It is not to their rank I object, but I am of opinion that from such an intimacy Penelope would not derive any benefit, nor add to her respectability; I look upon her as above them, and not upon them as above her.” Mrs Greendale was angry; and surely it was enough to provoke a saint to hear such disrespectful language applied to those persons of whose acquaintance the worthy lady was especially and peculiarly proud. Bridling up therefore, and assuming in her turn a high tone, she replied-- “Well, my dear, if you think it beneath your niece’s dignity to meet such persons, you had perhaps better send word to say that you do not wish to have their company: I dare say they will not require much persuasion to stay away.” “I wish, my dear, you would not talk such nonsense. Penelope will not become very intimate with these people of rank by meeting them in a party. Have your party quietly, and let the poor girl enjoy it, if she can; it will be time enough for her to feel the bitterness of servitude when she is actually in that condition; while she is under my roof she shall be treated as if she were my own.” There was in this last speech a tone of authority and decision to which Mrs Greendale was in the habit of submitting without an audible murmur or expostulation. She therefore left the doctor’s apartment, merely muttering to herself, “I don’t think you would indulge a child of your own as you indulge this pert conceited creature. I am very glad she is no niece of mine.”