was to come from, but Mr. Pratt knew he could not get it out of his
congregation, who did not like to have things changed from the manner of
their fathers--indeed there had been complaints when he had dislodged
the owls that had nested under the gallery from an immemorial rector's
day.

The service came to an end with the singing of a hymn to an
accompaniment of grunts and wheezes from an ancient harmonium and the
dropping of pennies and threepenny bits into a wooden plate. Then the
congregation hurried out to the civilities of the churchyard.

From outside, Brodnyx Church looked still more Georgian and abandoned.
Its three aisles were without ornament or architecture; there was no
tower, but beside it stood a peculiar and unexplained erection, shaped
like a pagoda, in three tiers of black and battered tar-boarding. It
had a slight cant towards the church, and suggested nothing so much as a
disreputable Victorian widow, in tippet, mantle and crinoline, seeking
the support of a stone wall after a carouse.

In the churchyard, among the graves, the congregation assembled and
talked of or to Joanna. It was noticeable that the women judged her more
kindly than the men.

"She can't help her taste," said Mrs. Vine, "and she's a kind-hearted
thing."

"If you ask me," said Mrs. Prickett, "her taste ain't so bad, if only
she'd have things a bit quieter. But she's like a child with her yallers
and greens."