She had no mind to obey
instructions from the Vicar's wife! She floated past with a nod and a
smile, and joined the little group of three who were standing outside
the Cancel rails, surveying the effect of the completed vases. The girl
Teresa looked paler and more set in expression; tired, no doubt, with
her morning's _work_. Cassandra, on the contrary, looked refreshed, the
interest of having work to do, and doing it well, lighting her eyes into
a girlish brightness. Her face was almost as happy as Grizel's own, as
she turned to greet her.

"Here you are! I hope I've not kept you too long. It must be nearly
time for lunch." She cast a quick glance at the two by her side, and
added tentatively; "I'm going straight back in the car; won't you both
come, too, and let me feed you after your labours? Do! I'd be so
pleased."

Without a flicker of hesitation came Teresa's refusal.

"Thank you; I couldn't possibly. I've not finished. There is always a
cold lunch at the Vicarage. Mrs Evans asks anyone who likes to go.
It's so near."

"Yes, of course." Cassandra held out her hand in placid acceptance of
the fact, spoke a few words of farewell, and turned to Peignton, taking
for granted a like excuse on his part, but he was hesitating, and
displaying an obvious wish to accept.

"Is there anything more that I can do to help you, Miss Teresa?--If my
work is finished, there's no need for me to stay. Of course, if there's
anything I can do--"

"No, thank you. Only a few odds and ends. Nothing serious. I can
manage quite well," said Teresa staunchly. Her heart was cramped with
pain, but she made no sign. As calmly as a martyr of old, she smiled
through the fire, shook hands with each of the three in turn, and
accompanied them a few steps down the aisle.

Cassandra walked ahead, her head in the air. "Now why did he do that?"
she asked herself uneasily. "I asked them together. I never dreamed he
would come alone. Perhaps Bernard was mistaken, and there's nothing
between them, after all. She seemed absolutely detached!" The
possibility brought with it a sense of relief, and her thoughts flew
ahead to the afternoon. "I'll take him to my summer-house to tea, and
we can talk. There are quite a number of things I want to say..."

It was five o'clock before Teresa Mallison returned home that afternoon,
for the "few odd things" stretched out to unexpected length. The day
had turned out very differently fr