ad kindly promised
to drive over and declare the bazaar open. It was a solemn moment when
the carriage drew up and the great man alighted. He was rather an
evil-looking old nobleman, but the clergy and gentry, their wives and
sons and daughters welcomed him with great and unctuous joy.
Conversations were broken off in mid-sentence, slow people gaped, not
realizing why their friends had so suddenly left them, the Meyricks came
up hot and perspiring in fear lest they should be too late, Miss Colley,
a yellow virgin of austere regard, smiled largely, Mrs. Dixon beckoned
wildly with her parasol to the "girls" who were idly strolling in a
distant part of the field, and the archdeacon ran at full speed. The air
grew dark with bows, and resonant with the genial laugh of the
archdeacon, the cackle of the younger ladies, and the shrill parrot-like
voices of the matrons; those smiled who had never smiled before, and on
some maiden faces there hovered that look of adoring ecstasy with which
the old maidens graced their angels. Then, when all the due rites had
been performed, the company turned and began to walk towards the booths
of their small Vanity Fair. Lord Beamys led the way with Mrs. Gervase,
Mrs. Dixon followed with Sir Vivian Ponsonby, and the multitudes that
followed cried, saying, "What a dear old man!"--"Isn't it _kind_ of
him to come all this way?"--"What a sweet expression, isn't it?"--"I
think he's an old love"--"One of the good old sort"--"Real English
nobleman"--"Oh most correct, I assure you; if a girl gets into trouble,
notice to quit at once"--"Always stands by the Church"--"Twenty livings
in his gift"--"Voted for the Public Worship Regulation Act"--"Ten
thousand acres strictly preserved." The old lord was leering pleasantly
and muttering to himself: "Some fine gals here. Like the looks of that
filly with the pink hat. Ought to see more of her. She'd give Lotty
points."

The pomp swept slowly across the grass: the archdeacon had got hold of
Mr. Dixon, and they were discussing the misdeeds of some clergyman in the
rural deanery.

"I can scarce credit it," said Mr. Dixon.

"Oh, I assure you, there can be no doubt. We have witnesses. There can be
no question that there was a procession at Llanfihangel on the Sunday
before Easter; the choir and minister went round the church, carrying
palm branches in their hands."

"Very shocking."

"It has distressed the bishop. Martin is a hard-working man enough, and
all