“They sold me,” she was reflecting, “and what I can give them is all they care for. Ah, it is a weary world.”
She moved, so impatiently that John Temple opened his gray eyes. The sermon was now drawing to a close, for one good quality the Rev. James Layton really did possess was not to preach too long sermons. And the moment the blessing was over Mrs. Temple rose hastily and signed to John to follow her. She wished to leave the church before her mother had an opportunity of joining her, for Mrs. Layton seldom ordered a Sunday dinner, but in general, and always if she could manage it, dined when the family at the Hall had luncheon in the middle of the day.
John looked up at the gallery as he followed Mrs. Temple out of the church, and half-smiled as his eyes met May’s, and this smile was reflected on her rosy lips. A moment later Mrs. Layton also looked up over her clasped hands, and to her consternation when she glanced at her daughter’s pew, she saw she was gone. Then she rose hastily from her knees and hurried out by the vestry door, only to be in time to see the Hall carriage disappear out of the churchyard, with her daughter and John Temple seated in it.
She ran to the churchyard gate; she frantically waved her umbrella, but all in vain. Mrs. Temple either did not, or pretended not to see her mother, and with a rueful heart Mrs. Layton had to turn and face the out-coming congregation, who were greatly amused at her discomfiture.
And she had very good cause for this feeling. She had in fact ordered no dinner for herself nor her husband at the vicarage, having securely reckoned on lunching at the Hall.
“Rachel should be ashamed of herself,” she reflected, angrily, as she returned to the vestry, “to treat her parents so, after all I have done for her.”
Only broken her daughter’s heart! This was what Mrs. Layton had done, and she considered her conduct meritorious. But she had no time for further reflection. In the vestry the vicar was divesting himself of his limp surplice, and his wife felt she must act.
“James,” she said, “I am just going to walk over to the Hall for lunch, and you must follow.”
“Did Rachel ask us?” inquired the vicar, weakly, for he also had been looking forward to the good things on the squire’s table, and a glass or two of the squire’s good wine.