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At the Vicarage.
X.
The Curate's wife and her two daughters and Mrs. Jehoram were still playing at tennis on the lawn behind the Vicar's study, playing keenly and talking in gasps about paper patterns for blouses. But the Vicar forgot and came in that way.
They saw the Vicar's hat above the rhododendrons, and a bare curly head beside him. "I must ask him about Susan Wiggin," said the Curate's wife. She was about to serve, and stood with a racket in one hand and a ball between the fingers of the other. "He really ought to have gone to see her being the Vicar. Not George. I———Ah!"
For the two figures suddenly turned the corner and were visible. The Vicar, arm in arm with———
You see, it came on the Curate's wife sud-
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