Casterbridge--nay in South Wessex itself. No smart dinner in the country
houses of the younger and gayer families within driving distance of the
borough was complete without their lively presence; Mrs. Maumbry was the
blithest of the whirling figures at the county ball; and when followed
that inevitable incident of garrison-town life, an amateur dramatic
entertainment, it was just the same. The acting was for the benefit of
such and such an excellent charity--nobody cared what, provided the play
were played--and both Captain Maumbry and his wife were in the piece,
having been in fact, by mutual consent, the originators of the
performance. And so with laughter, and thoughtlessness, and movement,
all went merrily. There was a little backwardness in the bill-paying of
the couple; but in justice to them it must be added that sooner or later
all owings were paid.



CHAPTER III


At the chapel-of-ease attended by the troops there arose above the edge
of the pulpit one Sunday an unknown face. This was the face of a new
curate. He placed upon the desk, not the familiar sermon book, but
merely a Bible. The person who tells these things was not present at
that service, but he soon learnt that the young curate was nothing less
than a great surprise to his congregation; a mixed one always, for though
the Hussars occupied the body of the building, its nooks and corners were
crammed with civilians, whom, up to the present, even the least
uncharitable would have described as being attracted thither less by the
services than by the soldiery.