ter a dreadful pause, "that your
husband is hardly himself."

"I will attend to him presently," replied Mrs. Peters with menacing
sympathy. "Come, Mrs. Hedderwick: I am sorry you should meet with such a
disappointment. Your best course would be to drive to The Happy Heart,
where I understand the fugitive is staying."

They left the room, without deigning to bestow any further notice on the
vicar. He, unhappy man, pulled himself together too late. He wiped his
eyes and rushed after them to offer seemly apologies. But as he reached
his garden gate he saw the motor drive off. Behind the chauffeur were
seated Mrs. Hedderwick and his wife. Mrs. Peters was resolved, if
possible, to be in at the death.

"After all," thought the vicar when he realized that he could do nothing
to reestablish himself, "why shouldn't I, too, see what is going to
happen? Hedderwick suggested I should call at The Quiet House.... I
might try again.... His suspicion, surely, can not be founded on fact,
but at least it will be interesting--nay, a positive duty! If a fellow
creature wants our services, we ought to spare neither time nor
trouble--well, Brown! what is it?"

"Beg pardon, sir!" said the odd-job man, touching his hat. Mr. Peters
noticed with astonishment that he was in his Sunday clothes. "I want to
give notice!"

"I can't be bothered with that now," said the vicar impatiently. "I am
particularly busy. Come to me----"

"I am sorry, sir, but I want to go at once," he said, interrupting the
vicar.

The latter stared.

"But that's most unusual and inconsiderate. If you want to go, a week's
notice----"

"It's too important for that, sir. Of course I am ready to forego my
week's wages, but go I must."

"Not a death in the family, I hope?" said Mr. Peters, subduing the
impatience of his tone. "If so, I'm very sorry, and of course----"

"No, sir: nothing serious--serious in that sense at least. I am sorry to
have to give notice in such a hurry, but it must be done."

"Very well," replied the vicar, resuming an every-day voice. "Legally,
of course, you couldn't demand your wages; but I have no intention of
standing on the letter of the law. I might as well pay you now. Let's
see----" He searched his pockets for change.

"Thank you, sir," replied the odd-job man. "You're very good to be so
reasonable, and I wish I could oblige you by staying. Instead, if you'll
kindly put a sovereign in the poor-box for me, I shall be satisfied."