“I’ll unspoil her, then,” swore the farmer. “I can not think what’s come over her of late.”
This was the first serious quarrel that May had ever had with her father. Mr. Churchill was, indeed, both fond and proud of her. But his new wife had already gained a strong influence over him. She was a clever woman in her way, and good-looking, and very well off, all of which qualifications Mr. Churchill thought much of, and of the last the most. Therefore, the next day he scarcely spoke to May, and her position in the house was exceedingly disagreeable.
But on the day following there came a change. It was Sunday, and May went to church with her two young brothers, her father and stepmother remaining at home, as Mrs. Churchill had a cold. And when May lifted her eyes, and looked at the squire’s square pew, she saw seated there John Temple and Mrs. Temple, his uncle’s wife.
CHAPTER XV.
THE PICTURE HAT.
The squire of Woodlea’s pew was at one side of the old-fashioned country church, and Mr. Churchill’s family occupied seats in the gallery. Therefore John Temple, looking up, saw the entrance of May Churchill and the two boys, and saw also the blush, the look of unmistakable joy, with which she recognized himself.
Other eyes saw this, too; a pair of handsome dark eyes that belonged to Mrs. Temple, who had followed her nephew-in-law’s upward glance, and watched, half with amusement, half with scorn, his brown face color slightly, and a soft look steal over his good-looking face. She also had seen the entrance of the three young Churchills, and drew her own conclusions from John’s expression. He had only arrived at the Hall the evening before, and had in the morning expressed a wish to attend the service at the parish church, somewhat to Mrs. Temple’s surprise.
“I thought going to church would not have been in your way,” she had said at the time.
“I have never heard your father preach,” answered John, smiling.