lose
that 7.30 to London or the "rag" would be rolling up without her and the
"stage damager" would be using "cuss words."

They had to pass the old church of Stoke Pogis on the way back to the
town, and after looking at its timber belfry and steeple John suggested
that they should see the inside. The sexton was found working in the
garden at the side of the house, and he went indoors for the keys. "Here
they be, sir, and you being a pa'son I'll bide in the orchet. You and
your young missus can look at the church without me. 'A b'lieve 'a hev
seed it afore," he said with a twinkle.

The church was dark and cool. There was a window representing an angel
ascending to heaven against a deep blue sky, and a squire's pew furnished
like a box at the theatre, with a carpet and even a stove. The chairs in
the front bore family crests, and behind them were inferior chairs,
without crests, for the servants. John had opened the little modern organ
and begun to play. After a while he began to sing. He sang Nazareth, and
his voice filled the empty church and went up into the gloom of the roof,
and echoed and returned, and it was almost as if another voice were
singing there.

Glory stood by his side and listened; a wonderful peace had come down on
her. Then the emotion that vibrated in his deep voice made something
surge up to her throat. "Life for evermore! Life for evermore!" All at
once she began to weep, to sob, and to laugh in a breath, and he stopped.

"How ridiculous I am to-day! You'll think me a maniac," she said. But he
only took her hand as if she had been a child and led her out of the
church.

Insensibly the day had passed into evening, and the horizontal rays of
the sun were dazzling their eyes as they returned to the hotel for tea.
In giving orders for this meal they had left the illustrated weekly
behind, and it was now clear from the easy smiles that greeted them that
the paper had been looked at and Glory identified. The room was ready,
with the table laid, the window closed, and a fire of wood in the dog
grate, for the chill of the evening was beginning to be felt. And to make
him forget what had happened at the church she put on a look of forced
gaiety and talked rapidly, frivolously, and at random. The fresh air had
given her such a colour that they would 'fairly eat her to-night.' How
tired she was, though! But a cup of tea would exhilarate her "like a
Johnnie's first whisky and soda in bed."

He looked