her high-flown scruples, which now savoured of unwholesome
affectation; but for these, she might not only have been a happy
wife, but she might, also, have proved the means of conferring
happiness upon another, and he a dearly loved one.

She called to Jill and sorrowfully went home. Three weeks later was
Whit Monday, a day which, being a holiday, she was able to devote to
her own uses. She had planned to walk to the village of Preen, an
ancient hamlet set upon a hill that overlooked Salisbury Plain,
which was distant some five miles from Melkbridge; but, at the last
moment, her distress of mind was such that she abandoned the
excursion. Lethargy had succeeded to her disturbed thoughts--
lethargy that made her look on life through grey spectacles. Instead
of setting out for Preen, she walked aimlessly about the town,
accompanied by Jill. Presently she went up Church Walk, at the top
of which she saw that the church door was open. She had a fancy for
walking by the grave-stones, so Mavis tied Jill up to the gate of
the churchyard with the lead which she usually carried.

As Mavis wandered among the moss-grown stones, which bore almost
undecipherable inscriptions, she wondered if those they covered had
led happy, contented lives, or if they were afflicted with unquiet
thoughts, unsatisfied longings, and dull despair, as she was. The
church was empty and cool; she walked inside, to sit in the first
pew she chanced upon. It was the first time that she had sat all
alone in the church; its venerable appearance now cried aloud for
recognition and appreciation. As if to accentuate its antiquity,
some of the aisles and walls bore the disfiguring evidences of an
unfinished electric light and electric organ-blowing installation,
which was in the process of being made, despite the protests of the