The bazaar had been advertised to open at half past three o'clock, and keenest interest had been aroused by the announcement that, on account of the indisposition of Dr. Dibble, the address would be delivered by the Reverend Horatio Merle. Almost every one in the parish knew Horatio Merle by sight. More often than not the curate and his wife were the only occupants of the Baxter pew, but such was his shrinking from grown up human society and so retired his walks that very few knew him personally. Harriet, too, for reasons of her own, worldly reasons, of which she was secretly ashamed, had responded meagerly to the friendly advances of the ladies of St. Timothy's. Nor, in this respect, were the Merles any exception in the Baxter household. Hiram, who with his son spent most of his time in America, regarded English society very much as he regarded the English climate and English business methods, and Eleanor preferred to share his seclusion to braving the leveled lorgnettes and monocled stares at Hiram's homely American speech and manners.
As for Lionel Fitz-Brown and Kate Clendennin, they were sufficiently occupied with each other and dismissed the entire parish as a "beastly bore."
From her chair at the back of the hall Harriet Merle watched the clock anxiously. The hands now pointed exactly to half past three, the time fixed for the opening address. For twenty-seven hours Harriet had waited for this moment, had mentally rehearsed the scene to its minutest detail—the expectant hush that would follow the introductory remarks by the harmless but necessary Spooner—then Horatio, solemn, transfigured, in the black surplice that Harriet had only the morning before shaken from its long camphorous sleep, would slowly mount the steps to the platform, looking neither to the right nor to the left—and, when the hush had become absolutely unbearable, he would cough nervously and——
In sudden panic Harriet looked at the clock. It was five minutes past the time. The decorous applause that had followed the secretary's remarks on the duties of Progressive Mothers (a Progressive Mother must be progressive, she must nurse her babies—progressively, she must bathe them—progressively, she must punish them—progressively, etc.) had died away a long minute ago. The expectant hush was becoming unbearable. Where was Horatio? Why didn't he come? What had happened?
Ferdinand Spooner tiptoed importantly from one to another of the ladies of the committee. People were beginning to whisper. Harriet shrank into her meager feather boa. She clasped her hands till they hurt in her effort to keep from crying. Tears came into her eyes and dropped upon the white gloves that she had worked so hard to clean for the occasion. Oh, why didn't he come? She had sat up half the night with him and made coffee to keep him awake till the address was written.
She thought of the money that Horatio would have received—one pound, perhaps even two pounds—and how she needed that money. Now there would be nothing.
What was the secretary saying? He feared that Mr. Merle had been unavoidably detained and the committee had decided that the address should be omitted, and he now declared the bazaar formally opened, and he asked them all to join in singing the national anthem. As the harmonium groaned the first bar of "God Save the King" and every one stood up, Harriet, grateful for the cover afforded by this ancient custom, but, for the moment, past all caring whether his majesty was saved or not, made her way to the door without attracting attention. Her only thought was to get out, out into the air and away from people—away from the sound of singing.
* * * * * * *
During this time Horatio, rejoicing in the thought that he was leaving his young protégée, Hester Storm, in a peaceful and sheltered haven, had turned down the shady drive on his way to the Progressive Mothers' bazaar.
At the first bend of the road the curate came to a standstill. Here a little green lane, leading to the woods, sidled off alluringly to the right. Merle shook his head. "No, thank you; no short cuts for me to-day," he said aloud, and quickly turned his back on the green temptress.