eir bonnets, but denuded of coats and mantles,
and balancing upon their knees some future garment for the poor, at
which they sewed with long, rhythmic stitches. They were assembled
together in a holy cause, and under the more or less holy roof of the
Vicar himself, yet the observant eye could have discerned as much hidden
worldliness in that room as in the most fashionable assembly. At a
Dorcas meeting everyone was welcome, the wives of tradesmen as well as
representatives of the professional and learned classes. It was
difficult to keep up the numbers, and since social engagements were less
frequent in the former class, its members were able to give more regular
attendance. The grocer's wife was a cutter-out with whom no other
member could compete. She stood at one end of the long table with a
length of calico spread out before her, and a pair of gigantic scissors
in her hand. As she cut still further and further into the material,
she leant forward over the table, and automatically her left leg swung
out,--a stout, merino-stockinged leg, terminating in a laced leather
boot. All the members came to her for instructions, and all of them
were agreeable and friendly in manner, but when the cutting process was
over, she retired to a corner of the room where were congregated a few
of her own friends. The two classes never mixed.

Grizel took the work presented to her,--a full-sized garment of
mysterious intent,--and glanced in questioning fashion round the room.
The tradesmen's wives who had been eagerly drinking in the details of
her costume, immediately lowered their eyes to their seams, but from
every other face beamed a message of invitation. Grizel beamed back,
but continued her scrutiny, till finally in the furthermost corner she
discovered the figure of that lonely parishioner who was neither fish,
flesh, nor good red herring,--Miss Bruce, the retired plumber's
daughter, to whom she had introduced herself at the church decorations.
She waved her bag with a smile of recognition, and carried a chair to
the corner.

It was not the first time that Chumley had noticed the extraordinary
intimacy between Mrs Martin Beverley and "poor Miss Bruce." They had
been seen driving together in the country; Grizel's car--a wedding
present from one of the relatives who had benefited by her marriage--had
been observed more than once waiting outside the cottage with the green
porch, and the little maid had divulged consequen