ce might save from very serious
consequences two people who were admittedly not very wise, but who were
certainly nothing more than foolish, and might prevent a scandal which
would damage them in the eyes of the world and result in all sorts of
trouble for Mrs. Avory.

'The scandal cannot now be prevented,' said Canon Wrottesley. 'I heard
myself from Mr. Lawrence this morning telling me the whole story. My
love, you cannot touch pitch and not be defiled; Mrs. Avory must send
for her own relations, if she has any, to help her out of this
regrettable business. I cannot allow you to appear in the matter at
all.'

'I have had my letters addressed here for the last two days,' said Mrs.
Wrottesley.

The canon rose from his chair and began to pace up and down the room.
'I don't know what people will say,' he said, his forehead knitted into
a frown and his fingers impatiently letting off small pistol-shots
against his palm. There had never been a better wife or mother, he
admitted to himself, than Henrietta Wrottesley, but she was a child
still in many ways. 'To-morrow is Sunday,' he went on, 'and we must
appear in church together. In this way only can we shut people's
mouths and prevent their talking, and although I don't like anything in
the form of secrecy or underhand actions, no one need know that you
have been staying here.'

'I am afraid,' said Mrs. Wrottesley, still in that unyielding tone of
gentle regret, 'that it is too late to keep my movements secret. There
is an account of the accident in the local paper in which it is stated
that I was staying here at the time.'

Canon Wrottesley loved to see his name in print, and looked with
interest at the cutting while Mrs. Wrottesley added, 'I sent the
communication to the paper.'

The canon found himself wondering in a puzzled way what was the
ultimatum that a man should impose upon a woman. What, in point of
fact, was the force that could be brought to bear upon the case? In
primitive days the matter would have been easily enough settled, but in
modern times moral force is the only lever, and although most women, he
admitted, were very easily influenced by moral force, it struck him
painfully that upon this occasion his wife was not going to be moved by
it.

A beneficent Providence who, I think we may allow, comes often to the
assistance of persons whose storm rages in quite a small and narrow
teacup so long as they are genuinely attached to each other,