but she was jealous of her husband's morning hours, and doubtful
of his having given any one the right to intrude on them.

"Have you an appointment with Mr. Boyne?" she asked.

He hesitated, as if unprepared for the question.

"Not exactly an appointment," he replied.

"Then I'm afraid, this being his working-time, that he can't
receive you now. Will you give me a message, or come back
later?"

The visitor, again lifting his hat, briefly replied that he would
come back later, and walked away, as if to regain the front of
the house. As his figure receded down the walk between the yew
hedges, Mary saw him pause and look up an instant at the peaceful
house-front bathed in faint winter sunshine; and it struck her,
with a tardy touch of compunction, that it would have been more
humane to ask if he had come from a distance, and to offer, in
that case, to inquire if her husband could receive him. But as
the thought occurred to her he passed out of sight behind a
pyramidal yew, and at the same moment her attention was
distracted by the approach of the gardener, attended by the
bearded pepper-and-salt figure of the boiler-maker from
Dorchester.

The encounter with this authority led to such far-reaching issues
that they resulted in his finding it expedient to ignore his
train, and beguiled Mary into spending the remainder of the