Knight, drunk with rage, reeled rather than walked away from the
church door, wondering what he might do to baulk and shame that living,
loving pair who could kiss and cling even among the tombs. A thought
came to him, a very evil thought which he welcomed as an inspiration
sent straight from an offended Heaven. Sir John Blake had come home; he
knew it, for he had passed him on the road seated alone in a fine
motor-car, and they had waved their hands to each other not ten minutes
before. He would go and tell him all; in the character of an upright
man who does not like to see his rich neighbour harmed by the
entanglement of that neighbour's daughter in an undesirable
relationship. That Sir John would consider himself to be harmed, he was
sure enough, being by no means ignorant of his plans and aspirations
for the future of that daughter, who was expected to make a great
alliance in return for the fortune which she would bring to her husband.

No sooner said than done. In three minutes he was at the Hall and, as
it chanced, met Sir John by the front door.

"Hullo, Reverend! How are you? You look very wet and miserable; taking
refuge from the rain, I suppose, though it is clearing off now. Have a
brandy and soda, or a glass of port?"

"Thank you, Sir John, I am an abstainer, but a cup of hot tea would be
welcome."

"Tea--ah! yes, but that takes time to make, so I should have to leave
you to drink it by yourself. Fact is I want to find my daughter. Some
of those blessed guests of mine, including Mounteroy, the young Earl,
you know, whom I wish her to meet particularly, are coming down
to-night by the last train and not to-morrow, so I must get everything
arranged in a hurry. Can't make out where the girl has gone."

"I think I can tell you, Sir John," said Mr. Knight with a sickly
smile; "at least I saw her a little while ago rather peculiarly
engaged."

"Where, and how was she engaged?"

Without asking permission Mr. Knight entered the house and stepped into
a cloak-room that opened out of the hall. Being curious, Sir John
followed him. Mr. Knight shut the door and, supporting himself against
the frame of a marble wash-basin with gilded taps, said:

"I saw her in the chancel of the Abbey Church and she was kissing my
son, Godfrey; at least he was kissing her, and she seemed to be
responding to his infamous advances, for her arms were round his neck
and I heard sounds which suggested that this was so."

"Holy Mo