Chapter V

Mrs. Brandon Goes Out to Tea



Mrs. Brandon hated her husband. No one in Polchester had the slightest
suspicion of this; certainly her husband least of all. She herself had
been first aware of it one summer afternoon some five or six years ago
when, very pleasantly and in the kindest way, he had told her that she
knew nothing about primroses. They had been having tea at the Dean's, and,
as was often the case then, the conversation had concerned itself with
flowers and ferns. Mrs. Brandon was quite ready to admit that she knew
nothing about primroses--there were for her yellow ones and other ones,
and that was all. The Archdeacon had often before told her that she was
ignorant, and she had acquiesced without a murmur. Upon this afternoon,
just as Mrs. Sampson was asking her whether she liked sugar, revelation
came to her. That little scene was often afterwards vividly in front of
her--the Archdeacon, with his magnificent legs spread apart in front of
the fireplace; Miss Dobell trying to look with wisdom upon a little bundle
of primulas that the Dean was showing to her; the sunlight upon the lawn
beyond the window; the rooks in the high elms busy with their nests; the
May warmth striking through the misty air--all was painted for ever
afterwards upon her mind.

"My dear, you may as well admit at once that you know nothing whatever