At this Maryllia found her voice suddenly.
"You have insulted my guests---"
"Ah, no!" said John, almost with a smile--"Women who are habitual smokers are not easily insulted! They are past that, believe me! The fine susceptibilities which one might otherwise attribute to them have been long ago blunted. They do not command respect, and naturally, they can scarcely expect to receive it."
"I do not agree with you!" retorted Maryllia, with rising warmth, as she regained her self-control, and with it her deep sense of irritation--"You were rude,--and rudeness is unpardonable! You said as much as to imply that none of the women present were ladies---"
"None of those who smoked were!"--said John, coolly.
"Mr. Walden! I myself, smoked!"
"You did,"--and he moved a step or two nearer to her, his whole face lighting up with keen emotion--"And why did you? The motive was intended to be courteous--but the principle was wrong!"
"Wrong!" she echoed, angrily--"Wrong?"
"Yes--wrong! Have you never been told that you can do one thing wrong among so many that you do right, Miss Vancourt?" he asked, with great gentleness--"You had it in your power to show your true womanliness by refusing to smoke,--you could, in your position as hostess, have saved your women friends from making fools of themselves--yes--the word is out, and I don't apologise for it!"-- here a sudden smile kindled in his fine eyes--"And you could also have given them all an example of obedience."
"Obedience!" exclaimed Maryllia, astonished,--"What do you mean? Obedience to whom?"
"To me!" replied John, with perfect composure.
She gazed at him, scarcely believing she had heard aright.
"To you?" she repeated--"To you?"
"Why certainly!" said John, wondering even as he spoke at his own ease and self-assurance--"As minister of the parish I am the only person here that is set in authority over you--and the first thing you do is to defy me!"
His manner was whimsical and kindly,--his tone of voice playfully tender, as though he were speaking to some naughty child whom, notwithstanding its temper, he loved too well to scold,--and Maryllia was completely taken aback by this unexpected method of treating her combative humour. Her pretty mouth opened like a rosebud,--she seemed as though she would speak, but only an inarticulate murmur came from her parted lips; while the very faintest lurking suspicion of a smile crept dimpling over her face, to be lost again in the hostile expression of her eyes.