black grapes and the chenille spots trembled. 'How very unpleasant!'
thought the old lady.

Then Edward spoke, and his voice had an edge of masterfulness that
astonished Mr. James.

'Let be,' he said. '"Other sheep I have which are not of this fold.
Them also will I bring." She has the same master, James.'

Silence fell. The other minister turned round with a surprised,
admiring glance at Edward, and the service began. It was short and
simple, but it gathered an extraordinary pathos as it progressed.

The narcissi on the window-sills eyed Hazel in a white silence, and
their dewy golden eyes seemed akin to Foxy's and her own. The fragrance
of spring flowers filled the place with wistful sadness. There are no
scents so tearful, so grievous, as the scents of valley-lilies and
narcissi clustered ghostly by the dark garden hedge, and white lilac,
freighted with old dreams, and pansies, faintly reminiscent of
mysterious lost ecstasy.

Edward felt these things and was oppressed. A great pity for Hazel and
her following of forlorn creatures surged over him. A kind of dread
grew up in him that he might not be able to defend them as he would
wish. It did seem that helplessness went to the wall. Since Hazel had
come with her sad philosophy of experience, he had begun to notice
facts.

He looked up towards the aloof sky as Hazel had done.