is thoughts
wandering towards the two women. He tried to see them, but pillars
intervened, and he could not catch a glimpse of either. But his gaze
fell on the tall figure of a man who was standing at the lower end of
the church near the door. He was evidently a stranger, for his eyes
wandered inquisitively round the church. In a heavy great-coat and with
a white scarf round his throat, he was well protected against the cold.
Giles noted his thin face, his short red beard, and his large black
eyes. His age was probably something over fifty, and he looked ill,
worried, and worn. Wondering who he was and what brought him to such an
out-of-the-way place as Rickwell at such a time, Giles settled himself
comfortably in his seat to hear the sermon.

The vicar was not a particularly original preacher. He discoursed
platitudes about the coming year and the duties it entailed on his
congregation. Owing to the length of the sermon and the lateness of the
hour, the people yawned and turned uneasily in their seats. But no one
ventured to leave the church, although the sermon lasted close on an
hour. It seemed as though the preacher would never leave off insisting
on the same things over and over again. He repeated himself twice and
thrice, and interspersed his common-place English with the lordly roll
of biblical texts. But for his position, Giles would have gone away. It
was long over the hour, and he knew that his servant would be waiting in
the cold. When he stood up for the concluding hymn he craned his head
round a pillar to see Daisy. She had vanished, and he thought that like
himself she had grown weary of the sermon, but more fortunate than he,
she had been able to slip away. Anne's place he could not see and did
not know whether she was absent or present.

Giles wondered for one delicious moment if he could see her before she
left the church. Daisy, evidently wearied by the sermon, had gone home,
there was no one to spy upon him, and he might be able to have Anne all
to himself for a time. He could then ask her why she was going, and
perhaps force her to confess that she loved him. But even as he thought
his conscience rebuked him for his treachery to Daisy. He fortified
himself with good resolutions, and resolved not to leave his seat until
the congregation had dispersed. Thus he would not be tempted by the
sight of Anne.

The benediction was given, the choir retired with a last musical "Amen,"
and the worshippers depa