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"Of course it was nothing. All the same, they were standing at the window
saying something, looking at one another, well, positively as though they
had known one another intimately for years. I assure you--"
Mrs. Combermere turned upon her. "Of all the nasty minds in this town,
Ellen, you have the nastiest. I've told you so before. People can't even
look at one another now. Why, you might as well say that I'd been gazing
at your Ronder when he came to tea the other day."
"Perhaps I shall," said Miss Stiles, laughing. "It would be a delightful
story to spread. Seriously, why not make a match of it? You'd just suit
one another."
"Once is enough for me in a life-time," said Mrs. Combermere grimly. "Now,
Ellen, come along. No more mischief. Leave poor little Morris alone."
"Mrs. Brandon and Mr. Morris!" repeated Mrs. Sampson, her eyes wide open.
"Well, I do declare."
The ladies separated, and the Precincts was abandoned for a time to its
beautiful Sunday peace and calm.


Chapter III
The May-day Prologue

May is the finest month of all the year in Glebeshire.


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