and young laughter had been taken by the darkness, 'I've asked Hazel
Woodus to tea on Wednesday.'

'She is not of your class, Edward.'

'What does class matter?'

'Martha's brother calls you "sir," and Martha looks down on this young
person.'

'Don't call her "young person," mother.'

'Whether it is mistaken kindness, dear, or a silly flirtation, it will
only do you harm with the congregation.'

'Young men and women,' soliloquized Mrs. Marston as she hoisted herself
upstairs with the candlestick very much aslant in a torpid hand, 'are
not what they used to be.'




Chapter 9


Hunter's Spinney, a conical hill nearly as high as God's Little
Mountain, lay between that range and Undern. It was deeply wooded; only
its top was bare and caught the light redly. It was a silent and
deserted place, cowled in ancient legends. Here the Black Huntsman
stalled his steed, and the death-pack coming to its precincts, ceased