The doctor returned to his studies, and Mrs Greendale to her domestic occupations. The doctor soon forgot what was past, losing himself amidst the perplexities and intricacies of theological discussions and doctrinal controversies. But Mrs Greendale brooded over the obstinacy of her spouse, and the pride of her niece, and the mortifications of her own pride. She could not imagine what her husband could mean by speaking so disrespectfully of persons of such high consideration as Miss Spoonbill and Colonel Crop. Ever since the high-born spinster had taken up her residence at Smatterton, for the sake of living near to her cousin the Earl, Mrs Greendale had been paying homage to her for the purpose of obtaining her illustrious notice and patronage. It was a concern of the utmost moment to have the honour of Miss Spoonbill’s company at the rectory; for the wife of the rector of Smatterton was very jealous of the superior glory of the wife of the rector of Neverden, whose parties were graced by the presence of the great man of the parish, Sir George Aimwell, Bart. Mrs Darnley, the lady alluded to, was not indeed quite so much gratified by the distinction as Mrs Greendale was mortified by it. Now it was some pleasure to the latter that the great man in her husband’s parish was an Earl, whereas the great man in Mr Darnley’s parish was only a commoner; for Mrs Greendale always caused it to be understood, that baronet was not a title of nobility. Still, however, it was a mortification that the Earl would not condescend to visit at the rectory. But when Miss Spoonbill and Colonel Crop had accepted an invitation to Mrs Greendale’s party, it was a matter of high exultation to her; it was therefore not very agreeable to her to hear these distinguished personages spoken of so slightingly by her reverend spouse. But Dr Greendale was an odd sort of man, that everybody allowed; and he used to say the strangest things imaginable. Being so studious a man, was quite enough to account for his oddities.