I never altogether fancied this Mrs. Tudor, although Mrs. Sunderland
liked her very much. Before we built our new house, Mrs. Tudor did
not know us, notwithstanding the fact that our pews had adjoined for
two or three years. But after that event, Mrs. Tudor found out that
we had an existence, and became uncommonly gracious with my wife.

Not long after I had spoken out my mind in regard to Mrs. Tudor,
that lady, in company with her husband, paid us a visit one evening,
and after sitting an hour, invited us to come around and take tea
with them on a certain evening in the ensuing week.

When the time came, as we had accepted the invitation, we went. We
found about a dozen persons assembled, half of whom were entire
strangers to us. Among these I soon perceived that there were two or
three who, in the eyes of Mrs. Tudor, were a little superior to her
other guests. On our entrance, we were introduced to them first, and
with particular formality, our lady hostess pronouncing their names
in a very distinct manner, while her articulation of ours was so low
that they were scarcely, if at all, heard. During the hour that
passed before tea was announced, Mrs. Tudor confined her attentions
almost exclusively to these two or three individuals, who were
evidently persons of more consequence than the rest of us. So
apparent was all this, that most of those who were in the room,
instead of joining in the conversation, sat looking at the more
favoured guests.

"They must be persons of some importance," I could not help saying
to my wife in an undertone, in which her quick ear detected
something of sarcasm.