They thrilled.

It was evident I had said something terrible.

Another black sheep in the Church?
thought I with a little sorrow; for I don't care to own that I have a respect for the cloth.

'I--hope there's nothing wrong?
'Wrong ?' says Mrs.P., clasping her hands with a tragic air.
'Oh!' says Miss Wirt, and the two girls, gasping in chorus.
'Well,' says I, 'I'm very sorry for it.

I never saw a nicer-looking old gentleman, or a better school, or heard a better sermon.' 'He used to preach those sermons in a surplice,' hissed out Mrs.Ponto.
'He's a Puseyite, Mr.Snob.' 'Heavenly powers!' says I, admiring the pure ardour of these female theologians; and Stripes came in with the tea.