'You may go, Martha,' said Mrs. Marston, and Martha went without
alacrity.

'Now.' Mrs. Marston spoke encouragingly.

'It's for the master.'

'He cannot see you.'

The two old faces regarded each other with silent obstinacy, and
Vessons recognized that, for all Mrs. Marston's soft outlines, she was
as obstinate as he was. He cleared his throat several times.

Mrs. Marston produced a lozenge, which he ate reluctantly, chumbling it
with nervous haste. He was so afraid that she would give him another
that he told her his news.

'Thank you,' she said, keeping her dignity in a marvellous manner.
'Mrs. Edward Marston, of course, wrote to the minister, but she forgot
to give her address.'

'Accidents will 'appen,' Vessons remarked, as he went out.

It was some time before Edward came in. He had spent most of his time
since last Sunday tramping the hillsides. It was not till he had
finished his very cursory meal that his mother said calmly, looking
over her spectacles:

'I know where Hazel is.'