CHAPTER VII
LITTLE BILSTEAD SITS IN JUDGMENT
"I M so nervous, Jane," fluttered Miss Mary Jell.
"Don't be absurd, Mary," retorted Miss Jell. "You ought to show more self-control."
"But suppose he were to call," whispered Miss Mary, her eyes round as those of a frightened child. "I should faint, I know I should," she added with conviction. "I was so frightened this morning."
Miss Jell drew in her lips; but made no remark. The two sisters were seated in their drawing-room awaiting the callers that the Third Thursday in the month always brought them. Miss Jell had assumed her usual position opposite the door, whilst her sister had taken a chair near the window. Her natural inclination to watch the callers as they approached, having been rigorously curbed by her more decorous sister, Miss Mary had compromised by sitting as near to the window as she dare, and in such a position as enabled her, when her sister was not looking, to obtain an occasional glimpse of the roadway that rib- boned down towards the village.
The Misses Jell were both small, both prey, and both of unknown age; but whereas Miss Tell was re- served and austere, as befits an elder sister, Miss Mary was sometimes spontaneous and always gentle. They were gentlewomen and they looked it. They had lived in Little Bilstead all their lives, and were invited to
The Grange, a distinction they shared with the vicar,
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