The Misses Woodhouse's maid was waiting for them, her lantern swinging in
her hand. Mr. Denner had secretly hoped for a chance of "seeing them
home," but dared not offer his unnecessary services in Sarah's presence.

Dr. Howe and his daughter went as far as the gate with their guests, and
then stood watching them down the lane, until a turn in the road hid the
glimmer of the lantern and the dark figures beside it.

"Bless my soul!" said the rector, as they turned to go back to the house.
"This gayety has made me almost forget my sermon. I must not put it off
so, next week."

This remark of Dr. Howe's was almost as regular as the whist party
itself.

Miss Deborah and Miss Ruth trotted behind Sarah, whose determined stride
kept them a little ahead of the others; Dick Forsythe had joined Mrs.
Dale at once, so Mr. Dale and Mr. Denner walked together. They were only
far enough behind to have the zest one feels in talking about his
neighbors when there is danger of being overheard.

"He is a very fine conversationalist," said Mr. Denner, nodding his head
in Dick's direction; "he talks very well."

"He talks a great deal," observed Mr. Dale.

"He seems to feel," Mr. Denner continued, "no--ah, if I can so express
it--timidity."