n end her discussions and misgivings. "I'm myself. Nobody can touch
me unless I let them."

It was a most lovely evening, very pale and clear with an orange light
in the sky like the reflection of some far distant towering fire. The
air was still and the rumble of the town scarcely penetrated into their
street; they could hear the ugly voice of the little Chapel bell
jangling in the heart of the houses, there was a scent of
chrysanthemums from somewhere and a very faint suggestion of snow--even
before they reached the Chapel door a few flakes lazily began to fall.

Maggie was thinking now only of Martin. There was a gas-lamp already
lighted in the Chapel doorway, and this blinded her eyes. She had hoped
that he would be there, waiting, so that he might have a word with her
before they went in, but when they were all gathered together under the
porch she saw with a throb of disappointment that he was not there. She
saw no one whom she knew, but it struck her at once that here was a
gathering quite different from that of the first time that she had come
to the Chapel. There seemed to be more of the servant class; rather
they were older women with serious rapt expressions and very silent.
There were men too, to-night, four or five gathered together inside the
passage, standing gravely, without a word, not moving, like statues.
Maggie was frightened. She felt like a spy in an enemy's camp, and a
spy waiting for an inevitable detection, with no hope of securing any
news. As she went up the aisle behind her aunts her eyes searched for
Martin. She could not see him. Their seat was close to the front, and
already seated in it were the austere Miss Avies and two lady friends.

Maggie was maliciously pleased to observe that Miss Avies had not
expected these additions to her number and was now in danger of an
uncomfortable squashing; there was, indeed, a polite little struggle
between Miss Avies and Aunt Anne as to who should have the corner with
a wooden arm upon which to rest. Miss Avies' two friends, huddled and
frightened like fledglings suddenly surprised by a cuckoo, stirred
Maggie's sympathy. She disliked Miss Avies from the very first moment.
Miss Avies had a pale, thin, pointed face with no eyebrows, grey eyes
dim and short-sighted, and fair colourless hair brushed straight back
under a hard, ugly black hat.

At the same time she was nervous, emotional, restless; something about
her was always moving--her lips, her han