Be an angel, for five minutes!" Woodgate wiped his pen in his deliberate way.
"Probably one of the girls is engaged," said he; "if so I hope it's Sybil." "No, Sybil is here too; she doesn't look a bit engaged, but rather bored, as though she had heard the story several times already, whatever it may be.

They have certainly paid several calls.

Now you look quite nice, so in you come." Mrs.Venables, a stout but comely lady, with a bright brown eye, and a face full of character and ability, opened fire upon the vicar as soon as they had shaken hands, while her daughter looked wistfully at the nearest books.
"He is married!" cried Mrs.Venables, beginning in the middle like a modern novelist.
"Indeed ?" returned the matter-of-fact clergyman, with equal directness--"and who is he ?" "Your neighbor and your patron--Mr.Steel!" "Married ?" repeated Mrs.Woodgate, with tremendous emphasis.

"Mr.
Steel ?" "This is news!" declared her husband, as though he had expected none worthy of the name.

And they both demanded further particulars, at which Mrs.Venables shook her expensive bonnet with great relish.
"Do you know Mr.Steel so well--so much better than we do--and can you ask for particulars about anything he ever does?
His marriage," continued Mrs.Venables, "like everything else about him, is 'wrop in mystery,' as one of those vulgar creatures says in Dickens, but I really forget which.