Father Benwell made a last desperate effort to pave the way for one more
question before he submitted to defeat. "That must be _your_ fault, my
dear lady!" he interposed, with his persuasive smile.

Miss Notman simpered. "You confuse me, Father!" she said softly.

"I speak from inward conviction, Miss Notman. To a looker-on, like
myself, it is sad to see how many sweet women who might be angels in
the households of worthy men prefer to lead a single life. The Church,
I know, exalts the single life to the highest place. But even the Church
allows exceptions to its rule. Under this roof, for example, I think I
see two exceptions. One of them my unfeigned respect" (he bowed to Miss
Notman) "forbids me to indicate more particularly. The other seems, to
my humble view, to be the young lady of whom we have been speaking. Is
it not strange that Miss Eyrecourt has never been married?"

The trap had been elaborately set; Father Benwell had every reason
to anticipate that Miss Notman would walk into it. The disconcerting
housekeeper walked up to it--and then proved unable to advance a step
further.

"I once made the same remark myself to Lady Loring," she said.

Father Benwell's pulse began to quicken its beat. "Yes?" he murmured, in
tones of the gentlest encouragement.

"And her ladyship," Miss Notman proceeded, "did not encourage me to
go on. 'There are reasons for not pursuing that subject,' she said;
'reasons into which, I am sure, you will not expect me to enter.'
She spoke with a flattering confidence in my prudence, which I felt
gratefully. Such a contrast to her tone when the omelet presented itself
in the order of the dishes! As I said just now I am not a married woman.
But if I proposed to my husband to give him an oyster-omelet after his
puddings and his pies, I should not be surprised if he said to me, 'My
dear, have you taken leave of your senses?' I reminded Lady Loring (most
respectfully) that a _cheese_-omelette might be in its proper place if
it followed the sweets. 'An _oyster_-omelet,' I suggested, 'surely comes
after the birds?' I should be sorry to say that her ladyship lost her
temper--I will only mention that I kept mine. Let me repeat what she
said, and leave you, Father, to draw your own conclusions. She said,
'Which of us is mistress in this house, Miss Notman? I order the
oyster-omelet to come in with the cheese.' There was not only
irritability, there was contempt--oh, yes! contempt in her tone.