down at her feet, which the graceful mould
of the slippers had marvellously arched and narrowed. She had never
seen such shoes before, even in the shop-windows at Nettleton... never,
except... yes, once, she had noticed a pair of the same shape on Annabel
Balch.

A blush of mortification swept over her. Ally sometimes sewed for Miss
Balch when that brilliant being descended on North Dormer, and no
doubt she picked up presents of cast-off clothing: the treasures in the
mysterious trunk all came from the people she worked for; there could be
no doubt that the white slippers were Annabel Balch's....

As she stood there, staring down moodily at her feet, she heard the
triple click-click-click of a bicycle-bell under her window. It was
Harney's secret signal as he passed on his way home. She stumbled to
the window on her high heels, flung open the shutters and leaned out. He
waved to her and sped by, his black shadow dancing merrily ahead of him
down the empty moonlit road; and she leaned there watching him till he
vanished under the Hatchard spruces.

XIII

THE Town Hall was crowded and exceedingly hot. As Charity marched into
it third in the white muslin file headed by Orma Fry, she was conscious
mainly of the brilliant effect of the wreathed columns framing the
green-carpeted stage toward which she was moving; and of the unfamiliar
faces turning from the front rows to watch the advance of the
procession.

But it was all a bewildering blur of eyes and colours till she found
herself standing at the back of the stage, her great bunch of asters and
goldenrod held well in front of her, and answering the nervous glance
of Lambert Sollas, the organist from Mr. Miles's church, who had come up
from Nettleton to play the harmonium and sat behind it, his conductor's
eye running over the fluttered girls.

A moment later Mr. Miles, pink and twinkling, emerged from the
background, as if buoyed up on his broad white gown, and briskly
dominated the bowed heads in the front rows. He prayed energetically and
briefly and then retired, and a fierce nod from Lambert Sollas warned
the girls that they were to follow at once with "Home, Sweet Home." It
was a joy to Charity to sing: it seemed as though, for the first time,
her secret rapture might burst from her and flash its defiance at the
world. All the glow in her blood, the breath of the summer earth,
the rustle of the forest, the fresh call of birds at sunrise, and the
brood