replied in a voice that, to his own
surprise, was trembling with emotion. Mrs. Pennycoop had made his task
harder for him. He had thought to leave Wychwood-on-the-Heath without a
regret. The knowledge he now possessed, that at all events one member of
his congregation understood him, as Mrs. Pennycoop had proved to him she
understood him, sympathized with him--the knowledge that at least
one heart, and that heart Mrs. Pennycoop's, had warmed to him, would
transform what he had looked forward to as a blessed relief into a
lasting grief.

Mr. Pennycoop, carried away by his wife's eloquence, added a few halting
words of his own. It appeared from Mr. Pennycoop's remarks that he had
always regarded the Rev. Augustus Cracklethorpe as the vicar of his
dreams, but misunderstandings in some unaccountable way will arise. The
Rev. Augustus Cracklethorpe, it appeared, had always secretly respected
Mr. Pennycoop. If at any time his spoken words might have conveyed
the contrary impression, that must have arisen from the poverty of our
language, which does not lend itself to subtle meanings.

Then following the suggestion of tea, Miss Cracklethorpe, sister to the
Rev. Augustus--a lady whose likeness to her brother in all respects
was startling, the only difference between them being that while he was
clean-shaven she wore a slight moustache--was called down to grace the
board. The visit was ended by Mrs. Pennycoop's remembrance that it was
Wilhelmina's night for a hot bath.

"I said more than I intended to," admitted Mrs. Pennycoop to George, her
husband, on the way home; "but he irritated me."

Rumour of the Pennycoops' visit flew through the parish. Other ladies
felt it their duty to show to Mrs. Pennycoop that she was not the only
Christian in Wychwood-on-the-Heath. Mrs. Pennycoop, it was feared, might
be getting a swelled head over this matter. The Rev. Augustus, with
pardonable pride, repeated some of the things that Mrs. Pennycoop had
said to him. Mrs. Pennycoop was not to imagine herself the only person
in Wychwood-on-the-Heath capable of generosity that cost nothing. Other
ladies could say graceful nothings--could say them even better. Husbands
dressed in their best clothes and carefully rehearsed were brought in
to grace the almost endless procession of disconsolate parishioners
hammering at the door of St. Jude's parsonage. Between Thursday morning
and Saturday night the Rev. Augustus, much to his own astonishment, had
b