th a bang. Natalie started. Miss Lavinia looked up reproachfully.
The object was achieved--Sir Joseph was roused from his sleep.

"If you are going to the vicar's to-night. Graybrooke," said Turlington,
"it's time you were off, isn't it?"

Sir Joseph rubbed his eyes, and looked at the clock on the mantel-piece.
"Yes, yes, Richard," he answered, drowsily, "I suppose I must go. Where
is my hat?"

His sister and his daughter both joined in trying to persuade him to
send an excuse instead of groping his way to the vicarage in the dark.
Sir Joseph hesitated, as usual. He and the vicar had run up a sudden
friendship, on the strength of their common enthusiasm for the
old-fashioned game of backgammon. Victorious over his opponent on the
previous evening at Turlington's house, Sir Joseph had promised to pass
that evening at the vicarage, and give the vicar his revenge. Observing
his indecision, Turlington cunningly irritated him by affecting to
believe that he was really unwilling to venture out in the dark. "I'll
see you safe across the churchyard," he said; "and the vicar's servant
will see you safe back." The tone in which he spoke instantly roused
Sir Joseph. "I am not in my second childhood yet, Richard," he replied,
testily. "I can find my way by myself." He kissed his daughter on the
forehead. "No fear, Natalie. I shall be back in time for the mulled
claret. No, Richard, I won't trouble you." He kissed his hand to his
sister and went out into the hall for his hat: Turlington following him
with a rough apology, and asking as a favor to be permitted to accompany
him part of the way only. The ladies, left behind in the drawing-room,
heard the apology accepted by kind-hearted Sir Joseph. The two went out
together.

"Have you noticed Richard since his return?" asked Miss Lavinia. "I
fancy he must have heard bad news in London. He looks as if he had
something on his mind."

"I haven't remarked it, aunt."

For the time, no more was said. Miss Lavinia went monotonously on with
her knitting. Natalie pursued her own anxious thoughts over the unread
pages of the book in her lap. Suddenly the deep silence out of doors and
in was broken by a shrill whistle, sounding from the direction of the
church-yard. Natalie started with a faint cry of alarm. Miss Lavinia
looked up from her knitting.

"My dear child, your nerves must be sadly out of order. What is there to
be frightened at?"

"I am not very well, aunt. It is so still he