deep mourning."

"Indecent haste, I call it," pronounced Miss Whalley severely, "with the
earth still fresh on his poor dear grandfather's grave! A May wedding
too! Most unsuitable!"

"He said he was so lonely," pleaded Mrs. Lorimer gently. "And after all
it was what his grandfather wished,--so he told me."

Miss Whalley gave a high-bred species of snort. "My dear Mrs. Lorimer,
that young man would tell you anything. Why, his grandfather was an
inveterate woman-hater, as all the world knows."

"I know," agreed Mrs. Lorimer. "That was really what made it so
remarkable. I assure you, Miss Whalley,--Piers came to me only last night
and told me with tears in his eyes--that just at the last poor Sir
Beverley said to him: 'I believe you've pitched on the right woman after
all, lad. Anyway, she cares for you--more than ordinary. Marry her as
quick as you can--and my blessing on you both!' They were almost the last
words he spoke," said Mrs. Lorimer, wiping her own eyes. "I thought it
was so dear of Piers to tell me."

"No doubt," sniffed Miss Whalley. "He is naturally anxious to secure
your goodwill. But I wonder very much what point of view the dear Vicar
takes of the matter. If I mistake not, he took Mrs. Denys's measure some
time ago."

"Did he?" said Mrs. Lorimer vaguely.

Miss Whalley looked annoyed. The Vicar's wife obviously lacked sufficient
backbone to quarrel on the subject. She was wont to say that she detested
invertebrate women.

"I think the Vicar was not altogether surprised," Mrs. Lorimer went on,
in her gentle, conversational way. "You see, Piers had been somewhat
assiduous for some time. I myself, however, did not fancy that dear Avery
wished to encourage him."

"Pooh!" said Miss Whalley. "It was the chance of her life."

A faint flush rose in Mrs. Lorimer's face. "She is a dear girl," she
said. "I don't know what I shall do without her."

"The children are getting older now," said Miss Whalley. "Jeanie ought to
be able to take her place to a very great extent."

"My little Jeanie is not strong," murmured Mrs. Lorimer. "She does what
she can, but her lessons tire her so. She never has much energy left,
poor child. She has not managed to finish her holiday-task yet, and it
occupies all her spare time. I told the Vicar that I really did not think
she was equal to it. But--" the sentence went into a heavy sigh, and
further words failed.

"The Vicar is always very judicious with his children," obs