his whole attitude to Rachel's friend and partner was
now one of tacit appeal for sympathy. And she was more than ready to
give it. Her uprightness, and the touch of austerity in her, reached
out to similar qualities in him; and the intellectual dissent which she
derived from her East Anglican forbears, from the circles which in
eighteenth-century Norwich gathered round Mrs. Opie, the Martineaus, and
the Aldersons, took kindly to the same forces in him; forces descended
from that New England Puritanism which produced half the great men--and
women--of an earlier America. Rachel laughed at them for 'talking
theology,' not suspecting that as the weeks went on they talked--whenever
they got a chance--less and less of theology, and more and more of
herself, through the many ingenious approaches that a lover invents and
the amused and sympathetic friend abets.

For clearly Ellesborough was in love. Janet read the signs of it in the
ease with which he had accepted the postponement of his release from the
camp, eager as he was to get to the fighting line. She heard it in his
voice, saw it in his eyes; and she was well aware that Rachel saw it.
What Rachel thought and felt was more obscure. She watched for
Ellesborough; she put on her best frocks for him; she was delighted to
laugh and talk with him. But she watched for Mr. Shenstone, too, and
would say something caustic or impatient if he were two or three days
without calling. And when he called, Rachel very seldom snubbed him, as
at first. She was all smiles; the best frocks came out for him, too; and
Janet, seeing the growing beatitude of the poor vicar, and the growing
nervousness of his sister, was often inclined to be really angry with
Rachel. But they were not yet on such terms as would allow her to
remonstrate with what seemed to her a rather unkind bit of flirtation;
seeing that she did not believe that Rachel had, or ever would have, a
serious thought to give the shallow, kindly little man.

But though she held her tongue, Janet showed her feeling sometimes by a
tone, or a lifted eyebrow, and then Rachel would look at her askance,
turning the vicar's head none the less on the next occasion. Was it that
she was deceiving herself, as well as trying, very unsuccessfully, to
deceive the lookers-on? The progress of the affair with Ellesborough made
on Janet a curious and rather sinister impression, which she could hardly
explain to herself. She seemed to see that Ellesboro