ess and popularity. She did indeed believe that Skeaton-on-Sea,
where Paul had his living, was the hub of the universe, and this amused
all the Trenchard family very much indeed. It must not be supposed that
Paul and his sister were treated unkindly. They were shown the greatest
courtesy and hospitality, but Maggie knew that that was only because it
was the Trenchard tradition to do so, and not from motives of affection
or warmth of heart.

They could be warm-hearted; it was wonderful to see the way that they
all adored Katherine, and they had many friends for whom they would do
anything, but the Rev. Paul seemed to them frankly an ass, and they
would be glad when he went away.

He did not seem to Maggie an ass. She thought him the kindest person
she had ever known, kinder even than Katherine, because with Katherine
there was the faintest suspicion of patronage; no, not of
patronage--that was unfair ... but of an effort to put herself in
exactly Maggie's place so that she might understand perfectly what were
Maggie's motives. With Paul Trenchard there was no effort, no
deliberate slipping out of one world into another one. He was frankly
delighted to tell Maggie everything--all about Skeaton-on-Sea and its
delights, about the church and its marvellous east window, about the
choir and the difficulties with the choir-boys and the necessity for
repairing the organ, about the troubles with the churchwardens,
especially one Mr. Bellows, who, in his cantankerous and dyspeptic
objections to everything that any one proposed, became quite a lively
figure to Maggie's imagination, about the St. John's Brotherhood which
had been formed to keep the "lads" out of the public-houses and was
doing so well, about the Shakespeare Reading Society and a Mrs. Tempest
(who also became a live figure in Maggie's brain), "a born tragedian"
and wonderful as Lady Macbeth and Katherine of Aragon. Skeaton slowly
revealed itself to Maggie as a sunny sparkling place, with glittering
sea, shining sand, and dark cool woods, full of kindliness, too, and
friendship and good-humour. Paul and Grace Trenchard seemed to be the
centre of this sunshine. How heartily Paul laughed as he recounted some
of the tricks and escapades of his "young scamps." "Dear fellows," he
would say, "I love them all ..." and Grace sat by smiling and nodding
her head and beaming upon her beloved brother.

To Maggie, fresh from the dark and confused terrors of the Chapel, it
was a