“Tell her that, and I am sure she will give way.” And then again they were both silent. And the vicar having thoroughly warmed himself, as far as this might be done by facing the fire, turned round and began the operation _à tergo_. “Come, Mark, it is twenty minutes past six. Will you go and dress?” “I’ll tell you what, Fanny: she must have her way about Sarah Thompson. You can see her to-morrow and tell her so.” “I am sure, Mark, I would not give way, if I thought it wrong. Nor would she expect it.” “If I persist this time, I shall certainly have to yield the next; and then the next may probably be more important.” “But if it’s wrong, Mark?” “I didn’t say it was wrong. Besides, if it is wrong, wrong in some infinitesimal degree, one must put up with it. Sarah Thompson is very respectable; the only question is whether she can teach.” The young wife, though she did not say so, had some idea that her husband was in error. It is true that one must put up with wrong, with a great deal of wrong. But no one need put up with wrong that he can remedy. Why should he, the vicar, consent to receive an incompetent teacher for the parish children, when he was able to procure one that was competent? In such a case,--so thought Mrs. Robarts to herself,--she would have fought the matter out with Lady Lufton. On the next morning, however, she did as she was bid, and signified to the dowager that all objection to Sarah Thompson would be withdrawn. “Ah! I was sure he would agree with me,” said her ladyship, “when he learned what sort of person she is. I know I had only to explain;”--and then she plumed her feathers, and was very gracious; for, to tell the truth, Lady Lufton did not like to be opposed in things which concerned the parish nearly. “And, Fanny,” said Lady Lufton, in her kindest manner, “you are not going anywhere on Saturday, are you?” “No, I think not.” “Then you must come to us. Justinia is to be here, you know”--Lady Meredith was named Justinia--“and you and Mr. Robarts had better stay with us till Monday. He can have the little book-room all to himself on Sunday. The Merediths go on Monday; and Justinia won’t be happy if you are not with her.” It would be unjust to say that Lady Lufton had determined not to invite the Robarts’s if she were not allowed to have her own way about Sarah Thompson. But such would have been the result. As it was, however, she was all kindness; and when Mrs. Robarts made some little excuse, saying that she was afraid she must return home in the evening, because of the children, Lady Lufton declared that there was room enough at Framley Court for baby and nurse, and so settled the matter in her own way, with a couple of nods and three taps of her umbrella. This was on a Tuesday morning, and on the same evening, before dinner, the vicar again seated himself in the same chair before the drawing-room fire, as soon as he had seen his horse led into the stable.