ntil Mutimer's arrival
there had been much talk about Hubert; whether owing to Dr. Mann's
indiscretion or through the servants at the Manor, it had become known
that the young man was suffering from a bullet-wound, and the story
circulated by Mrs. Mewling led gossips to suppose that he had been
murderously assailed in that land of notorious profligacy known to
Wanley as 'abroad.' That, however, was now become an old story. Wanley
was anxious for the Eldons to go their way, and leave the stage clear.

Everyone of course was aware that Mutimer spent his Sundays in London (a
circumstance, it was admitted, not altogether reassuring to the ladies
with marriageable daughters), and his unwonted appearance in the village
on the evening of the present Saturday excited universal comment. Would
he appear at church next morning? There was a general directing of
eyes to the Manor pew. This pew had not been occupied since the fateful
Sunday when, at the conclusion of the morning service, old Mr. Mutimer
was discovered to have breathed his last. It was a notable object in
the dim little church, having a wooden canopy supported on four slim
oak pillars with vermicular moulding. From pillar to pillar hung dark
curtains, so that when these were drawn the interior of the pew was
entirely protected from observation. Even on the brightest days its
occupants were veiled in gloom. To-day the curtains remained drawn as
usual, and Richard Mutimer disappointed the congregation. Wanley had
obtained assurance on one point--Socialism involved Atheism.

Then it came to pass that someone saw Mutimer approach the Walthams'
house just before dinner time; saw him, moreover, ring and enter. A
couple of hours, and the ominous event was everywhere being discussed.
Well, well, it was not difficult to see what _that_ meant. Trust Mrs.
Waltham for shrewd generalship. Adela Waltham had been formerly
talked of in connection with young Eldon; but Eldon was now out of the
question, and behold his successor, in a double sense! Mrs. Mewling
surrendered her Sunday afternoon nap and flew from house to house--of
course in time for the dessert wine at each. Her cry was _haro_! Really,
this was sharp practice on Mrs. Waltham's part; it was stealing a
march before the commencement of the game. Did there not exist a tacit
understanding that movements were postponed until Mutimer's occupation
of the Manor? Adela was a very nice young girl, to be sure, a very nice
girl ind