They hurried through the dark plantation; and Guy, under the influence of Pauline's positive terror, felt strangely as if, were he to look behind, he would behold the house leering at them sardonically.
People, too, eyed them as they went down High Street and turned into Rectory Lane. Guy had a sensation of all the inhabitants hurrying from their business in the depths of their old houses to peer through the casements at Pauline and him; and he was glad when they reached the Rectory drive and escaped the silent commentary.
When she was at home again Pauline's spirits rose amazingly; and all through lunch she was so excited that her mother and sisters were continually repressing her noisiness. Guy, on the contrary, felt woefully self-conscious, and was wondering all the while with how deep a dislike the Rector was regarding him and if after lunch he would not call him aside and solemnly expel him from the house. As they got up from the table the Rector asked if Guy were doing anything particular that afternoon, and on receiving an assurance that he was not, the Rector asked if he would help with the sweet-peas that still wanted sorting. Guy in a bodeful gloom said he would be delighted.
"I shall be in the garden at two," said the Rector.
"Shall I come as well and help?" Pauline offered.
"No; I want you to take some things into the town for me," said the Rector.
Guy's heart sank at this confirmation of his fears. Out in the hall Margaret took him aside.
"Margaret, you've been beyond words good to me."
"Always be happy," she said.