She hardly dared to take him to task, him himself.

Were she to do so, and should he then tell her to mind her own business--as he probably might do, though not in those words--there would be a schism in the parish; and almost anything would be better than that.

The whole work of her life would be upset, all the outlets of her energy would be impeded if not absolutely closed, if a state of things were to come to pass in which she and the parson of her parish should not be on good terms.
But what was to be done?
Early in the winter he had gone to Chaldicotes and to Gatherum Castle, consorting with gamblers, Whigs, atheists, men of loose pleasure, and Proudieites.

That she had condoned; and now he was turning out a hunting parson on her hands.
It was all very well for Fanny to say that he merely looked at the hounds as he rode about his parish.

Fanny might be deceived.