"Mother, we'll let in a breath of air just for a minute. It is so mild to-night. Lance, is that somebody in the garden?"
Nigel almost uttered the word—"Ethel!" Almost, but not quite. It was leaving his lips, when he caught it back. Once within that room, how could he tear himself away?
There were reasons why it might be better not. With an effort Nigel turned and walked out of the gate. And as he went, he found himself face to face with somebody coming in—a large loosely-built man in a greatcoat, walking with the tired stoop in head and shoulders often born of a hard day's work. The light of the nearest lamp fell upon a rugged face, full of the beauty of goodness.
"Anything wanted?" asked the Vicar.
Mr. Elvey never by any chance passed a human being who might "want" something of him.
"No—thanks," Nigel answered dutifully, hoping but not wishing to pass on.
"I know that voice!" said the Vicar.
[CHAPTER II]
THE DAUGHTERS OF THE HOUSE
"There are briars besetting every path,
Which call for patient care."—A. L. WARING.