bore to the
right, she gathered that they were going to Pennington.

The day was perfect--a day that in happier circumstances Mavis would
have loved. The sun reigned in a cloudless sky, the blue of which was
mellowed with a touch of autumn dignity. The grasses waved gladly by
the road-side, and along the ditches; patches of sunlight played
delightful games of hide-and-seek on hedge-rows and among the trees.
Most of the bushes were gay with song, while the birds seemed to laugh
in very defiance of winter when the sun was so warm. The unrestrained
joy and vivacity of the day emphasised the gloom that rilled the first
of the two funeral carriages. Mavis stared with dull surprise at the
rollicking gaiety of the afternoon: its callousness to her anguish
irked her. It made her think how unnecessary and altogether bootless
was the loss she had sustained. She tried to realise that God had
singled her out for suffering as a mark of His favour. But at the
bottom of her heart she nourished something in the nature of resentment
against the Most High. She knew that, if only life could be restored to
the child, she would be base enough to forfeit her chances of eternal
life in exchange for the boon. As she passed a by-lane, a smart cart,
containing a youngish man and a gaily-clad, handsome, happy-looking
girl, pulled up sharply in coming from this in order to avoid a
collision. Mavis saw the gladness fade from the faces of the occupants
of the cart as they realised the nature of the procession they had
encountered. The man took off his cap; the girl looked away with
frightened eyes.

Five minutes later, the two carriages entered the gates of Pennington
Churchyard. The wind was blowing from Melkbridge, therefore she had not
heard before the measured tolling of the bell, which now seemed, every
time it struck, to stab her soul to the quick. The carriage pulled up
at the door of the tiny church. After waiting a few moments, Mavis got
out.

Scarcely knowing what she was doing, she walked up the church, to sit
in a pew near the top. Although she never took her eyes from the
flower-covered coffin, she was aware that Windebank was sitting at the
back, whilst, a few moments later, Miss Toombs strolled into the church
with the manner of one who had got there by the merest chance.

"Man that is born of woman hath but a short time to live."

Mavis stood up directly those words were spoken; otherwise, she paid no
attention to the exquisit