After that, as they walked together to Framley Court, Mrs. Robarts made her friend promise that she would stand by her if any serious attack were made on the absent clergyman. “Are you going up to your room at once?” said the vicar’s wife, as soon as they were inside the porch leading into the hall. Lady Meredith immediately knew what her friend meant, and decided that the evil day should not be postponed. “We had better go in, and have it over,” she said, “and then we shall be comfortable for the evening.” So the drawing-room door was opened, and there was Lady Lufton alone upon the sofa. “Now, mamma,” said the daughter, “you mustn’t scold Fanny much about Mr. Robarts. He has gone to preach a charity sermon before the bishop, and under those circumstances, perhaps, he could not refuse.” This was a stretch on the part of Lady Meredith--put in with much good nature, no doubt; but still a stretch; for no one had supposed that the bishop would remain at Chaldicotes for the Sunday. “How do you do, Fanny?” said Lady Lufton, getting up. “I am not going to scold her; and I don’t know how you can talk such nonsense, Justinia. Of course, we are very sorry not to have Mr. Robarts; more especially as he was not here the last Sunday that Sir George was with us. I do like to see Mr. Robarts in his own church, certainly; and I don’t like any other clergyman there as well. If Fanny takes that for scolding, why----” “Oh! no, Lady Lufton; and it’s so kind of you to say so. But Mr. Robarts was so sorry that he had accepted this invitation to Chaldicotes, before he heard that Sir George was coming, and----” “Oh, I know that Chaldicotes has great attractions which we cannot offer,” said Lady Lufton. “Indeed, it was not that. But he was asked to preach, you know; and Mr. Harold Smith----” Poor Fanny was only making it worse. Had she been worldly wise, she would have accepted the little compliment implied in Lady Lufton’s first rebuke, and then have held her peace. “Oh, yes; the Harold Smiths! They are irresistible, I know. How could any man refuse to join a party, graced both by Mrs. Harold Smith and Mrs. Proudie--even though his duty should require him to stay away?” “Now, mamma--” said Justinia. “Well, my dear, what am I to say? You would not wish me to tell a fib. I don’t like Mrs. Harold Smith--at least, what I hear of her; for it has not been my fortune to meet her since her marriage. It may be conceited; but to own the truth, I think that Mr. Robarts would be better off with us at Framley than with the Harold Smiths at Chaldicotes,--even though Mrs. Proudie be thrown into the bargain.” It was nearly dark, and therefore the rising colour in the face of Mrs. Robarts could not be seen. She, however, was too good a wife to hear these things said without some anger within her bosom. She could blame her husband in her own mind; but it was intolerable to her that others should blame him in her hearing.