it behooved her to fight for her husband when he was thus attacked. Had Lady Lufton been moderate in her remarks, Mrs. Robarts would not have had a word to say.
"My husband may have been ill-judged," she said, "but he is no hypocrite."
"Very well, my dear, I dare say you know better than I; but to me it looks extremely like hypocrisy—eh, Justinia?"
"Oh, mamma, do be moderate."
"Moderate! That's all very well. How is one to moderate one's feelings when one has been betrayed?"
"You do not mean that Mr. Robarts has betrayed you?" said the wife.
"Oh no, of course not." And then she went on reading the letter: "'Seem to have been standing in judgment upon the duke.' Might he not use the same argument as to going into any house in the kingdom, however infamous? We must all stand in judgment one upon another in that sense. 'Crawley!' Yes; if he were a little more like Mr. Crawley, it would be a good thing for me, and for the parish, and for you too, my dear. God forgive me for bringing him here, that's all."
"Lady Lufton, I must say that you are very hard upon him—very hard. I did not expect it from such a friend."
"My dear, you ought to know me well enough to be sure that I shall speak my mind. 'Written to Jones'—yes; it is easy enough to write to poor Jones. He had better write to Jones, and bid him do the whole duty. Then he can go and be the duke's domestic chaplain."
"I believe my husband does as much of his own duty as any clergyman in the whole diocese," said Mrs. Robarts, now again in tears.
"And you are to take his work in the school—you and Mrs. Podgens. What with his curate, and his wife, and Mrs. Podgens, I don't see why he should come back at all."
"Oh, mamma," said Justinia, "pray, pray don't be so harsh to her."
"Let me finish it, my dear—oh, here I come. 'Tell her ladyship my whereabouts.' He little thought you'd show me this letter."
"Didn't he?" said Mrs. Robarts, putting out her hand to get it back, but in vain. "I thought it was for the best—I did indeed."
