The Girl from Malta by Fergus Hume — Read

Mrs. Pellypop was an epitome of all that was good; a happy mixture of Hannah More and Florence Nightingale, with just a slight flavour of Mrs. Candour to add piquancy to her character. She was an excellent housekeeper, a devout Christian, rigorous in all her social duties, a faithful wife -- and yet, the late Mr. Pellypop must have been glad when he died. She was too overpoweringly virtuous, and wherever she went showed herself such a shining example of all that was excellent, that she made everyone else's conduct, however proper it might be, look black beside her own. The fact is, people do not like playing second fiddle, and as Mrs. Pellypop always insisted on leading the social orchestra, her room was regarded as better than her company.

Her father had been a clergyman, and when she married Mr. Pellypop, who was in the wine trade, and came out to Melbourne to settle, she never lost an opportunity of acquainting people with the fact. Mr. Pellypop died from an overdose of respectability, and left his widow fairly well off, so she declined to marry again -- not having any chance of doing so -- and devoted herself to the education of her only daughter, Elizabeth, whom she nearly succeeded in making as objectionably genteel as herself. Elizabeth was good, gentle, and meek, and as Mrs. Pellypop wanted a son-in-law of a similar nature, she married Elizabeth to the Rev. Charles Mango, who was then a humble curate in Melbourne.