'Is that you, Gabriel?' she said in a low, soft voice, smiling gently on her younger and favourite son. 'You look disturbed, my dear boy!'
'Mrs Pansey!' said Gabriel, and considering that the name furnished all necessary information, sat down near his mother and took one of her delicate hands in his own to smooth and fondle.
'Oh, indeed! Mrs Pansey!' echoed the bishop's wife, smiling still more; and with a slight shrug cast an amused look at Lucy, who in her turn caught Sir Harry's merry eyes and laughed outright.
'Oh, Harry! Hush!' interposed Lucy, with an anxious glance, 'You shouldn't.'
'Why not? But for the present company I would say something much stronger.'
'I wish you would,' said Gabriel, easing his stiff collar with one finger; 'my cloth forbids me to abuse Mrs Pansey properly.'
'Ordering the bishop to have The Derby Winner removed, mother.'
'The Derby Winner,' repeated Mrs Pendle, in puzzled tones; 'is that a horse?'
'A public-house, mother; it is in my district, and I have been lately visiting the wife of the landlord, who is very ill. Mrs Pansey wants the house closed and the woman turned out into the streets, so far as I can make out!'
'The Derby Winner is my property,' said Sir Harry, bluffly, 'and it sha'n't be shut up for a dozen Mrs Panseys.'
'Think of a dozen Mrs Panseys,' murmured Lucy, pensively.
'Think of Bedlam and Pandemonium, my dear! Thank goodness Mrs Pansey is the sole specimen of her kind. Nature broke the mould when that clacking nuisance was turned out. She--'
'Harry! you really must not speak so loud. Mrs Pansey might hear. Come with me, dear. I must look after our guests, for I am sure mother is tired.'
'I _am_ tired,' assented Mrs Pendle, with a faint sigh. 'Thank you, Lucy, I willingly make you my representative. Gabriel will stay beside me.'
'Here is Miss Tancred,' observed Harry Brace, in an undertone.
'Oh, she must not come near mother,' whispered Lucy, in alarm. 'Take her to the supper-room, Harry.'
'But she'll tell me the story of how she lost her purse at the Army and Navy Stores, Lucy.'
'You can bear hearing it better than mother can. Besides, she'll not finish it; she never does.'
Sir Harry groaned, but like an obedient lover intercepted a withered old dame who was the greatest bore in the town. She usually told a digressive story about a lost purse, but hitherto had never succeeded in getting to the point, if there was one. Accepting the suggestion of supper with alacrity, she drifted away on Sir Harry's arm, and no doubt mentioned the famous purse before he managed to fill her mouth and stop her prosing.