In justice to Handle, it must be said that he by no means intended to desert his friend, even though the enthralling society of Dorinda might have proved an excuse for his forgetfulness. But far from wishing for the barrister's absence, Rupert had left a message with his future father-in-law, requesting Carrington to see the church, after taking leave of the vicar. Out of what the Yankees term "sheer cussedness," Mallien had not delivered the message, and every moment Hendle expected the appearance of his friend, quite ignorant that Carrington was already on his way to The Big House. And thinking that the barrister was being entertained--as one of his cynical character would be--by Mallien's rudeness and Leigh's quaint ways, the young Squire forgot all about his old school chum for the time being. This was very natural, seeing that Dorinda was beside him, and he therefore had no eyes or ears save for her. "Get a can of water," directed Dorinda, as they passed from the vicarage jungle into the trim slopes of the churchyard, "and bring it to me as soon as possible. You will find me in the porch arranging the flowers." Readily consenting to this division of labor, the Squire went to find Mrs. Jabber and the necessary can, while Dorinda, already possessed of the key, unlocked the great oaken door under the porch. With her arms filled with roses, she entered into the chill twilight of the little fane: chill because the thick walls prevented the summer heat from penetrating into the interior of the building and twilight since the sunshine was more or less baffled by the stained glass of the windows. As the girl passed up the central aisle, round her were the squat Norman pillars, above her loomed the criss-cross rafters of time-darkened oak, and beneath her feet was the storied pavement inlaid with many a quaintly lettered brass plate praising the virtues of the dead in monkish Latin. Before her, under the glorious hues of the east window, rose the altar, draped in white and gold with single and triple silver candlesticks glittering on either side of the tall brass cross. The vases--also silver--were filled with mixed ill-chosen flowers gathered anyhow and arranged anyhow by Mrs. Jabber, whose eye was anything but artistic. After breathing a short prayer, Dorinda, who had left her roses on a convenient seat, took the vases off the altar and out of the church. Having shaken out the flowers, she brought her crimson blooms into the porch and sat down on the side seat to fulfil what was to her a very pleasant duty. Rupert arrived with the can of water, and the information--obtained from Mrs. Jabber--that both Mallien and Carrington had gone home.

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