However, much as she wished old Mrs. Lemon to stop, Missy could not approve of what she, just then, saw take place in her own pew.
Genevieve was whispering and giggling again. Missy turned to look. Genevieve pressed a paper-wad into Arthur's hand, whispered and giggled some more. And then, to Missy's horror, Arthur took surreptitious but careful aim with the wad. It landed squarely on old Mrs. Lemon's ear, causing a “Blessed be the Lo—” to part midway in scandalized astonishment. Missy herself was scandalized. Of course old Mrs. Lemon was a hypocrite—but to be hit on the ear while the name of the Saviour was on her lips! Right on the ear! Missy couldn't help mentally noting Arthur's fine marksmanship, but she felt it her duty to show disapproval of a deed so utterly profane.
She bestowed an openly withering look on the desecrators.
“She dared me to,” whispered Arthur—the excuse of the original Adam.
Without other comment Missy returned her stern gaze to the pulpit. She held it there steadfast though she was conscious of Genevieve, undaunted, urging Arthur to throw another wad. He, however, refused. That pleased Missy, for it made it easier to fix the blame for the breach of religious etiquette upon Genevieve alone. Of course, it was Genevieve who was really to blame. She was a frivolous, light-minded girl. She was a bad influence for Arthur.
Yet, when it came time for the “crowd” to disperse and Arthur told her good night as though nothing had happened, Missy deemed it only consistent with dignity to maintain extreme reserve.
“Oh, fudge, Missy! Don't be so stand-offish!” Arthur was very appealing when he looked at you like that—his eyes so mischievous under their upcurling lashes. But Missy made herself say firmly:
“You put me in a rather awkward position, Arthur. You know Reverend MacGill entrusted me to—”
“Oh, come out of it!” interrupted Arthur, grinning.
Missy sighed in her heart. She feared Arthur was utterly unregenerate. Especially, when as he turned to Genevieve—who was tugging at his arm—he gave the Reverend MacGill's missionary an open wink. Missy watched the white fox furs, their light-minded wearer and her quarry all depart together; commiseration for the victim vied with resentment against the temptress. Poor Arthur!