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Trollope, Anthony, 1815-1882

"Framley Parsonage"

There was no charity in these people, he said to himself.
They knew the nature of his distress, and yet they only laughed at
him. He did not, perhaps, reflect that he had assisted in the joke
against Harold Smith on the previous evening. "James," said he,
turning to the waiter, "let me have that pair of horses immediately,
if you please."
"Yes, sir; round in fifteen minutes, sir: only Ned, sir, the
post-boy, sir; I fear he's at his breakfast, sir; but we'll have him
here in less than no time, sir!" But before Ned and the pair were
there, Mrs. Smith had absolutely got her bonnet on, and at ten they
started. Mark did share the phaeton with Harold Smith, but the
phaeton did not go any faster than the other carriages. They led the
way, indeed, but that was all; and when the vicar's watch told him
that it was eleven, they were still a mile from Chaldicotes gate,
although the horses were in a lather of steam; and they had only just
entered the village when the church bells ceased to be heard.
"Come, you are in time, after all," said Harold Smith. "Better time
than I was last night." Robarts could not explain to him that the
entry of a clergyman into church, of a clergyman who is going to
assist in the service, should not be made at the last minute, that it
should be staid and decorous, and not done in scrambling haste, with
running feet and scant breath.


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