was that of her face. Something of
the same fascination took hold of him which had seized upon John Short
when he caught sight of Mrs. Goddard through the open door of the study,
something of that unexpected interest which in Mrs. Ambrose had at first
aroused a half suspicious dislike, now long forgotten.

Before the squire left he invited the whole party to come and dine with
him at the Hall on the following Saturday. He must have some kind of a
house warming, he said, for he was altogether too lonely up there. Mrs.
Goddard would bring Eleanor, of course; they would dine early--it would
not be late for the little girl. If they all liked they could call it tea
instead of dinner. Of course everything was topsy-turvy in the Hall, but
they would excuse that. He hoped to establish friendly relations with his
vicar and with his tenant--his fair tenant. Might he call soon and see
whether there was anything that could be done to improve the cottage?
Before the day when they were all coming to dine? He would call
to-morrow, then. Anything that needed doing should be done, Mrs. Goddard
might be sure. When the books arrived he would let Mr. Ambrose know, of
course, and they would have a day together.

So he went away, leaving the impression that he was a very good-natured
and agreeable man. Even Mrs. Ambrose was mollified. He had shocked her by
his remark about sermon writing, but he had of course not meant it, and
he appeared to mean to be very civil. It was curious to see how all
severity vanished from Mrs. Ambrose's manner so soon as the stranger who
aroused it was out of sight and hearing. She appeared as a formidably
stern type of the British matron to the chance visitors who came to the
vicarage; but they were no sooner gone than her natural temper was
restored and she was kindness and geniality itself.

But Mrs. Goddard was very thoughtful. She was not pleased at the fact of
an addition to the Billingsfield community, and yet she liked the
appearance of the squire. He had declared his intention of calling upon
her on the following day, and she would be bound to receive him. She was
young, she had been shut off from the world for two years, and the
prospect of Mr. Juxon's acquaintance was in itself not unpleasant; but
the idea that he was to be permanently established in the Hall frightened
her. She had felt since she came to Billingsfield that from the very
first she had put herself upon a footing of safety by telling he