some one else must be responsible. A few days
after her return she decided that she "must not let these things go,"
so she told Maggie that she would attend the Committee of Old Women's
Comforts and be responsible for the Choir practice. But on her return
to these functions she found that she was bored and tired and cross;
they were really intolerable, she had been doing them for years and
years and years. It was too bad that Maggie should suffer her to take
them on her shoulders. What did Maggie think she was a clergyman's wife
for? Did Maggie imagine that there were no responsibilities attached to
her position?

Grace did not say these things, but she thought them. She did not of
course admit to herself that she wanted Maggie both to go and not to
go. She simply knew that there was a "grievance" and Maggie was
responsible for it. But at present she was silent ...

The next factor in the rapidly developing situation was Mr. Toms. One
day early in April Maggie went for a little walk by herself along the
lane that led to Marsden Wood. Marsden Wood was the most sinister of
all the woods; there had once been a murder there, but even had there
not, the grim bleakness of the trees and bushes, the absence of all
clear paths through its tangles and thickets made it a sinister place.
She turned at the very edge of the wood and set her face back towards
Skeaton.

The day had been wild and windy with recurrent showers of rain, but now
there was a break, the chilly April sun broke through the clouds and
scattered the hedges and fields with primrose light.

Faintly and with a gentle rhythm the murmur of the sea came across the
land and the air was sweet with the sea-salt and the fresh scent of the
grass after rain. Maggie stood for a moment, breathing in the spring
air and watching the watery blue thread its timid way through banks of
grey cloud. A rich gleam of sunlight struck the path at her feet.

She saw then, coming towards her, a man and a woman. The woman was
ordinary enough, a middle-aged, prim, stiffly dressed person with a
pale shy face, timid in her walk and depressed in mouth and eyes. The
man was a stout, short, thick-set fellow with a rosy smiling face. At
once Maggie noticed his smile. He was dressed very smartly in a black
coat and waist-coat and pepper-and-salt trousers. His bowler was cocked
a little to one side. She passed them and the little round man, looking
her full in the face, smiled so happily and wit