And you might
take those books back to the Circulating Library as well. It's Market-Day.
Are you sure you won't mind the horses and cows and dogs?"
Joan laughed. "I believe you think I'm still five years old, mother.
That's splendid. I'll start off after lunch."
Joan went up to her room, elated. Truly, this was a great step forward. It
occurred to her on further reflection that something very serious indeed
must be going on behind the scenes to cause her mother to give in so
quickly. She sat on her old faded rocking-chair, her hands crossed behind
her head, thinking it all out. Did she once begin calling on her own
account she was grown-up indeed. What would these Morrises be like?
She found now that she was beginning to be a little frightened. Mr. Morris
was the new Rector of St. James', the little church over by the cattle
market. He had not been in Polchester very long and was said to be a shy
timid man, but a good preacher. He was a widower, and his sister-in-law
kept house for him. Joan considered further on the great importance of
these concessions; it made all the difference to everything.
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