that her
husband had told her, with many hems and haws, that Mr Armstrong had
arrived to repeat Lord Ballindine's proposal, and that he had come to
consult her about again asking his lordship to Grey Abbey, she became
happy and light-hearted; and, before Griffiths had left her for the
night, she had commenced her consultations as to the preparations for
the wedding.

XXXVIII. WAIT TILL I TELL YOU

There was no one at dinner that first evening, but Mr Armstrong, and
the family circle; and the parson certainly felt it dull enough. Fanny,
naturally, was rather silent; Lady Selina did not talk a great deal;
the countess reiterated, twenty times, the pleasure she had in seeing
him at Grey Abbey, and asked one or two questions as to the quantity
of flannel it took to make petticoats for the old women in his
parish; but, to make up the rest, Lord Cashel talked incessantly. He
wished to show every attention to his guest, and he crammed him with
ecclesiastical conversation, till Mr Armstrong felt that, poor as he
was, and much as his family wanted the sun of lordly favour, he would
not give up his little living down in Connaught, where, at any rate, he
could do as he pleased, to be domestic chaplain to Lord Cashel, with a
salary of a thousand a-year.

The next morning was worse, and the whole of the long day was
insufferable. He endeavoured to escape from his noble friend into the
demesne, where he might have explored the fox coverts, and ascertained
something of the sporting capabilities of the country; but Lord Cashel
would not leave him alone for an instant; and he had not only to endure
the earl's tediousness, but also had to assume a demeanour which was
not at all congenial to his feelings. Lord Cashel would talk Church and
ultra-Protestantism to him, and descanted on the abominations of the
National system, and the glories of Sunday-schools. Now, Mr Armstrong
had no leaning to popery, and had nothing to say against Sunday
schools; but he had not one in his own parish, in which, by the
bye, he was the father of all the Protestant children to be found
there--without the slightest slur upon his reputation be it said. Lord
Cashel totally mistook his character, and Mr Armstrong did not know how
to set him right; and at five o'clock he went to dress, more tired than
he ever had been after hunting all day, and then riding home twelve
miles on a wet, dark night, with a lame horse.

To do honour to her guest Lady Cash