a dozen outlying
villages that now had churches of their own. Therefore, it was never
full, and even if every soul in the village had made a point of going
to divine service at the same time, it would still have appeared but
sparsely attended.

Miss Gallup's seat, with a red cushion and red footstools and
everything handsome about it, was about half-way up the aisle on the
left.

On the right, one behind the other, were two long oaken pews next the
chancel steps belonging to the Manor House. In the one, there were
three young women, obviously servants; the front one was empty.

Eloquent began to wish he had not come.

People bustled and creaked and pattered up the aisle after their
several fashions. The organist started the voluntary, and the choir
came in.

The congregation stood up, when suddenly his aunt gave Eloquent's elbow
a jerk, and whispered: "There's Mr Grantly and Miss Mary."

As if he didn't know!

Just the same leisurely, unconscious, strolling walk that got over the
ground so much more quickly than one would have thought.

She had changed her clothes and looked, he noted it with positive
relief, much more Sundayish. In fact, her costume (Eloquent used this
dreadful word) now compared quite favourably with those of the other
young ladies of his acquaintance. Not that she in the least resembled
them. Not a bit. Her things were ever so much plainer, but Eloquent's
eagle eye, trained to acute observation by his long service in the
outfitting line, grasped at once that plain as was the dark blue coat
and skirt, it was uncommonly well made. She wore blue fox furs, too,
hat and stole and muff all matching, and her hair was tied twice with
dark blue ribbon, at the nape of the neck and about half-way down.

Yes, M. B. Ffolliot was very tidy indeed. Behind her followed a youth
ridiculously like her in feature, but he was half a head taller. He
walked with quick, short steps, and had a very flat back and square
shoulders. His appearance, even allowing for the high seriousness of
an outfitter's point of view, was eminently satisfactory. There was no
fleck or speck of fluff or dust or mud about _his_ clothes. He was,
Eloquent decided grimly, a "knut" of the nuttiest flavour; from the top
of his exceedingly smooth head to his admirable grey spats and
well-shaped boots, a thoroughly well-dressed young man.

"Shop, indeed!" thought Eloquent. "He's never seen the wrong side of a
counter in his li