he was thinking of the chaff-cutter. Beside him Mrs.
Pendyce, with her eyes on the altar, smiled as if in sleep. She was
thinking, 'Skyward's in Bond Street used to have lovely lace. Perhaps in
the spring I could----Or there was Goblin's, their Point de Venise----'

Behind them, four rows back, an aged cottage woman, as upright as a girl,
sat with a rapt expression on her carved old face. She never moved, her
eyes seemed drinking in the movements of the Rector's lips, her whole
being seemed hanging on his words. It is true her dim eyes saw nothing
but a blur, her poor deaf ears could not hear one word, but she sat at
the angle she was used to, and thought of nothing at all. And perhaps it
was better so, for she was near her end.

Outside the churchyard, in the sun-warmed grass, the fox-terriers lay one
against the other, pretending to shiver, with their small bright eyes
fixed on the church door, and the rubbery nostrils of the spaniel John
worked ever busily beneath the wicket gate.

CHAPTER VIII

GREGORY VIGIL PROPOSES

About three o'clock that afternoon a tall man walked up the avenue at
Worsted Skeynes, in one hand carrying his hat, in the other a small brown
bag. He stopped now and then, and took deep breaths, expanding the
nostrils of his straight nose. He had a fine head, with wings of
grizzled hair. His clothes were loose, his stride was springy. Standing
in the middle of the drive, taking those long breaths, with his moist
blue eyes upon the sky, he excited the attention of a robin, who ran out
of a rhododendron to see, and when he had passed began to whistle.
Gregory Vigil turned, and screwed up his humorous lips, and, except that
he was completely lacking in embonpoint, he had a certain resemblance to
this bird, which is supposed to be peculiarly British.

He asked for Mrs. Pendyce in a high, light voice, very pleasant to the
ear, and was at once shown to the white morning-room.

She greeted him affectionately, like many women who have grown used to
hearing from their husbands the formula "Oh! your people!"--she had a
strong feeling for her kith and kin.

"You know, Grig," she said, when her cousin was seated, "your letter was
rather disturbing. Her separation from Captain Bellew has caused such a
lot of talk about here. Yes; it's very common, I know, that sort of
thing, but Horace is so----! All the squires and parsons and county
people we get about here are just the same. Of course,