I
It was Sunday morning--a damp, warm November morning, with the sky
overhead grey and low. Miss Reed stopped a little to take breath before
climbing the hill, at the top of which, in the middle of the churchyard,
was Blackstable Church. Miss Reed panted, and the sultriness made her
loosen her jacket. She stood at the junction of the two roads which led
to the church, one from the harbour end of the town and the other from
the station. Behind her lay the houses of Blackstable, the wind-beaten
houses with slate roofs of the old fishing village and the red brick
villas of the seaside resort which Blackstable was fast becoming; in the
harbour were the masts of the ships, colliers that brought coal from the
north; and beyond, the grey sea, very motionless, mingling in the
distance with the sky.... The peal of the church bells ceased, and was
replaced by a single bell, ringing a little hurriedly, querulously,
which denoted that there were only ten minutes before the beginning of
the service. Miss Reed walked on; she looked curiously at the people who
passed her, wondering....
'Good-morning, Mr Golding!' she said to a fisherman who pounded by her,
ungainly in his Sunday clothes.
'Good-morning, Miss Reed!' he replied. 'Warm this morning.'
She wondered whether he knew anything of the subject which made her
heart beat with excitement whenever she thought of it, and for thinking
of it she hadn't slept a wink all night.
'Have you seen Mr Griffith this morning?' she asked, watching his face.
'No; I saw Mrs Griffith and George as I was walking up.'
'Oh! they are coming to church, then!' Miss Reed cried with the utmost
surprise.
Mr Golding looked at her stupidly, not understanding her agitation. But
they had reached the church. Miss Reed stopped in the porch to wipe her
boots and pass an arranging hand over her hair. Then, gathering herself
together, she walked down the aisle to her pew.
She arranged the hassock and knelt down, clasping her hands and closing
her eyes; she said the Lord's Prayer; and being a religious woman, she
did not immediately rise, but remained a certain time in the same
position of worship to cultivate a proper frame of mind, her long,
sallow face upraised, her mouth firmly closed, and her eyelids quivering
a little from the devotional force with which she kept her eyes shut;
her thin bust, very erect, was encased in a black jacket as in a coat of
steel. But when Miss Reed considered that a due period had elapsed, she
opened her eyes, and, as she rose from her knees, bent over to a lady
sitting just in front of her.
'Have you heard about the Griffiths, Mrs Howlett?'
'No!... What is it?' answered Mrs Howlett, half turning round, intensely
curious.
Miss Reed waited a moment to heighten the effect of her statement.
'Daisy Griffith has eloped--with an officer from the depot at
Tercanbury.'
Mrs Howlett gave a little gasp.
'You don't say so!'
'It's all they could expect,' whispered Miss Reed. 'They ought to have
known something was the matter when she went into Tercanbury three or
four times a week.'
Blackstable is six miles from Tercanbury, which is a cathedral city and
has a cavalry depot.
'I've seen her hanging about the barracks with my own eyes,' said Mrs
Howlett, 'but I never suspected anything.'
'Shocking! isn't it?' said Miss Reed, with suppressed delight.
'But how did you find out?' asked Mrs Howlett.
'Ssh!' whispered Miss Reed--the widow, in her excitement, had raised her
voice a little and Miss Reed could never suffer the least irreverence in
church.... 'She never came back last night, and George Browning saw them
get into the London train at Tercanbury.'
'Well, I never!' exclaimed Mrs Howlett.
'D'you think the Griffiths'll have the face to come to church?'
'I shouldn't if I was them,' said Miss Reed.
But at that moment the vestry door was opened and the organ began to
play the hymn.
'I'll see you afterwards,' Miss Reed whispered hurriedly; and rising
from their seats, both ladies began to sing,--
_O Jesu, thou art standing_
_Outside the fast closed door,_
_In lowly patience waiting_
_To pass the threshold o'er;_
_We bear the name of Christians_....
Miss Reed held the book rather close to her face, being shortsighted;
but, without even lifting her eyes, she had become aware of the entrance
of Mrs Griffith and George. She glanced significantly at Mrs Howlett. Mr
Griffith hadn't come, although he was churchwarden, and Mrs Howlett gave
an answering look which meant that it was then evidently quite true. But
they both gathered themselves together for the last verse, taking
breath.
_O Jesus, thou art pleading_
_In accents meek and low_....
A--A--men! The congregation fell to its knees, and the curate, rolling
his eyes to see who was in church, began gabbling the morning
prayers--'_Dearly beloved brethren._' ...