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"Only it's rather more difficult to scratch out his name and put in John
Wentworth's," Morewood suggested.
May laughed. "But anyhow the Dean's a good husband, isn't he, Mrs.
Baxter?"
"Oh, yes, my dear. The same men very seldom fly out over notions and over
women."
Morewood raised himself to a sitting posture and observed solemnly,
"The whole history of science, art, and literature contradicts that last
observation."
Mrs. Baxter looked at him for a brief moment and went on with the
petticoat. May interpreted her look.
"So much the worse for the whole history!" she laughed. But a moment
later she went on, "I think I rather like whimsy-whamsies, though."
"I should think you did," said Morewood.
"A man ought to have a few," May suggested.
"A sort of trimming to the leg of mutton? Only take care the mutton's
there!"
"Oh, not the mustard without the beef!" cried May.
"Now there's Canon Grinling," said Mrs. Baxter. "That's the man I
admire."
"Pray tell us about him," urged Morewood.
"He's content to preach in his turn and work his parish.


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