d and was gone.

The Caroline affair was of another sort. Some days after Christmas,
Maggie went to have tea with Caroline. She did not enjoy it at all. She
felt at once that there was something wrong with the house. It was full
of paintings in big gold frames, looking-glasses, and marble statues,
and there was a large garden that had an artificial look of having been
painted by some clever artist in the course of a night. Maggie did not
pay a long visit. There were a number of men present; there was also a
gramophone, and after tea they turned up the carpet in the dining-room
and danced.

Caroline, in spite of her noise and laughter, did not seem to Maggie to
be happy. She introduced her for a moment to the master of the house, a
stout red-faced man who looked as though he had lost something very
precious, but was too sleepy to search for it. He called Caroline
"Sweet," and she treated him with patronage and contempt. Maggie came
away distressed, and she was not surprised to hear, a day or two later,
from Grace that Mrs. Purdie was "fast" and had been rude to Mrs.
Constantine.

One day early in the spring Grace announced that Maggie ought not to go
and see Mrs. Purdie any more. "There are all sorts of stories," said
Grace. "People say--Oh, well, never mind. They have dancing on Sunday."

"But she's an old friend of mine," said Maggie.

"You have others to think of beside yourself, Maggie," said Grace. "And
there is the Church."

"She's an old friend of mine," repeated Maggie, her mouth set
obstinately.

"I will ask Paul what he thinks," said Grace.

"Please," said Maggie, her colour rising into her cheeks, "don't
interfere between Paul and me. I'll speak to him myself."

She did. Paul maintained the attitude of indifference that he had
adopted during the last six months.

"But would you rather I didn't go?" asked Maggie, aggravated.

"You must use your judgment," said Paul.

"But don't you see that I can't leave a friend just because people are
saying nasty things."

"There's your position in the parish," said Paul.

"Oh, Paul!" Maggie cried. "Don't be so aggravating! Just say what you
really think."

"I'm sorry I'm aggravating," said Paul patiently.

It was this conversation that determined Maggie. She had been coming,
through all the winter months, to a resolution. She must be alone with
Paul, she must have things out with him. As the months had gone they
had been slipping further and further apa