She went into a fresh fit of shrieking laughter, though there seemed to be nothing to laugh at. Then they both caught sight of Doris. The young butcher pushed up his cap, instantly quiet and respectful.
"Anything wanted, Miss?"
"Yes." She gave her order briefly. "Will you, please, see that it is sent early?"
"Goodness!—it's Miss Winton!" she heard from Jane, with a pert giggle, and that irrepressible young person bobbed her head in recognition.
Doris gazed straight through and beyond her, ignoring her existence. She neither flushed nor showed self-consciousness, but went slowly by; and not even the Rectorinn could have held her head higher.
"My! Ain't she proud?" reached her ears.
Another scene had presented itself vividly to her imagination. She saw herself standing again—in the future!—outside that same butcher's shop; the same young woman from the farm being on the pavement. She heard once more the loud screaming laughter; and with the laughter came unendurable words—
"I say!—that's my sister—Doris!"
More and more rapidly went the girl, as if driven by forces that she was powerless to resist. She reached the Rectory, and made her way, without hesitation, to the morning-room.
"Mother—"