Wychwood-on-the-Heath without a regret. The knowledge he now
possessed, that at all events one member of his congregation
understood him, as Mrs. Pennycoop had proved to him she understood
him, sympathized with him--the knowledge that at least one heart, and
that heart Mrs. Pennycoop's, had warmed to him, would transform what
he had looked forward to as a blessed relief into a lasting grief.

Mr. Pennycoop, carried away by his wife's eloquence, added a few
halting words of his own. It appeared from Mr. Pennycoop's remarks
that he had always regarded the Rev. Augustus Cracklethorpe as the
vicar of his dreams, but misunderstandings in some unaccountable way
will arise. The Rev. Augustus Cracklethorpe, it appeared, had always
secretly respected Mr. Pennycoop. If at any time his spoken words
might have conveyed the contrary impression, that must have arisen
from the poverty of our language, which does not lend itself to subtle
meanings.

Then following the suggestion of tea, Miss Cracklethorpe, sister to
the Rev. Augustus--a lady whose likeness to her brother in all
respects was startling, the only difference between them being that
while he was clean-shaven she wore a slight moustache--was called down
to grace the board. The visit was ended by Mrs. Pennycoop's
remembrance that it was Wilhelmina's night for a hot bath.

"I said more than I intended to," admitted Mrs. Pennycoop to George,
her husband, on the way home; "but he irritated me."

Rumour of the Pennycoops' visit flew through the parish. Other ladies
felt it their duty to show to Mrs. Pennycoop that she was not the only
Christian in Wychwood-on-the-Heath. Mrs. Pennycoop, it was feared,