"Perhaps--who knows?"
The village rector returned at last, greeting me with some surprise,
and introducing his wife, a rather stout, homely woman, who bore
traces of good looks, and who wore a visiting gown of neat black, for
she had been paying a call.
"I looked in to see you the other day in town, Mr. Biddulph," he said.
"But I was unfortunate. Your man told me you were out. He was not rude
to me this time," he added humorously, with a laugh.
"No," I said, smiling. "He was profuse in his apologies. Old servants
are sometimes a little trying."
"Yes, you're right. But he seems a good sort. I blame myself, you
know. He's not to blame in the least."
Then we strolled together to a tent set beneath the cedar, whither the
maid had already taken the tea and strawberries, and there we sat
around gossiping.