"So do I," said Helen.

"But are you----"

"Between ourselves," Helen murmured. "Mind you, between _ourselves_--I
could imagine stranger things happening."

"Well," said Sarah, "this _is_ news."

"Mind, not a syllable!"

"Oh, of course not."

"By the way," Helen asked, "when are Andrew and Lilian going to get
married?"

"I don't know. No one knows. One confidence for another, my dear; they
don't always hit it off."

"What a pity!" Helen remarked. "Because if ever two people were suited
to each other in this world, they are. But I hope they'll shake down."

They arrived at the rector's.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE CONCERT

On another afternoon a middle-aged man and a young-hearted woman emerged
together from Bursley Railway Station. They had a little luggage, and a
cab from the Tiger met them by appointment. Impossible to deny that the
young-hearted one was wearing a flowered silk under a travelling mantle.
The man, before getting into the cab, inquired as to the cost of the
cab. The gold angel of the Town Hall rose majestically in front of him,
and immediately behind him the Park, with the bowling-green at the top,
climbed the Moorthorne slope. The bowling season was of course over, but
even during the season he had scarcely played. He was a changed person.
And the greatest change of all had occurred that very morning.
Throughout a long and active career he had worn paper collars. Paper
collars had sufficed him, and they had not shocked his friends. But now
he wore a linen collar, and eleven other linen collars were in his
carpet-bag. Yet it has been said, by some individual who obviously
lacked experience of human nature, that a man never changes the style
of his collar after forty.

The cab drove up to Hillport, and deposited flowered silk and one bag at
the residence of Mrs. Prockter. It then ascended higher, passing into
the grounds of Wilbraham Hall, and ultimately stopping at the grandiose
portals thereof, which were wide open.

The occupant of the cab was surprised to see two other cabs just
departing. The next moment he was more than surprised--he was startled.
A gentleman in evening dress stood at the welcoming doors, and on
perceiving him this gentleman ran down the steps, and, with a sort of
hurried grace, took his carpet-bag from him, addressing him in broken
English, and indicating by incomprehensible words and comprehensible
signs that he regarded him, the new arrival, as the light of h