“My dear Mrs. Allen,” began Mrs. Broad, “I have called to announce to you a surprising piece of intelligence, although I dare say you know it all. Your son George has asked Mr. Broad to be allowed to consider himself as Priscilla’s suitor. We have discussed the matter together, and I have come to know what your views are. I may say that we had destined—hoped—that—er—Priscilla would find her sphere as a minister’s wife in the metropolis; but it is best, perhaps, to follow the leadings of Providence.” “Well, Mrs. Broad, I must say I was a little bit disappointed myself—to tell you the plain truth; but it is of no use to contradict young people in love with one another.” Mrs. Broad was astonished. Disappointed! But she remembered her husband’s admonitions. So she contented herself with an insinuation. “What I meant, my dear Mrs. Allen, was that, as the Flavels have been a ministerial family for so long, it would have been gratifying to me, of course, if Priscilla had bestowed herself upon—upon somebody occupying the same position.” “That is just what my mother used to say. I was a Burton, you remember. They were large tanners in Northamptonshire, and she did not like my going to a shop. But you know, Mrs. Broad, you had better be in a shop and have plenty of everything, and not have to pinch and screw, than have a brass knocker on your door, and not be able to pay for the clothes you wear. That’s my belief, at any rate.” The dart entered Mrs. Broad’s soul. She remembered some “procrastination”—to use her husband’s favourite word—in settling a draper’s bill, even when it was diminished by the pew rent, and she wondered if Mrs. Allen knew the facts. Of course she did; all Cowfold knew every fact connected with everybody in the town. She discerned it was best to retreat. “I wished to tell you, Mrs. Allen, that we do not intend to offer the least objection”—she thought that perhaps a little professional unction might reduce her antagonist—“and I am sure I pray that God will bless their union.” “As I said before, Mrs. Broad, neither shall we object. We shall let George do as he likes. He is a real good boy, worth a princess, and if he chooses to have Miss Broad, we shan’t hinder him. She will always be welcome here, and it will be a consolation to you to know she will never want anything.” Mrs. Allen shook her silk dress out a little, and offered Mrs. Broad a glass of wine. Her feelings were a little flustered, and she needed support, but she refused. “No thank you, Mrs. Allen. I must be going.” CHAPTER XXII THE ORACLE WARNS—AFTER THE EVENT