“The carriage is right here at the door.”
The next instant she had taken her parasol from behind the hymn-books in front of her, where she had propped it a few minutes before, with some misgiving lest it fall to the floor during prayer, and just as the congregation sang the last line,
“And grace will lead me home,”
she glided from the church by the side of the doctor, thankful that in the bustle of sitting down the congregation would not notice her departure. They descended the steps, entered the waiting carriage and off they sped.
“I feel guilty,” said Mary, a little dazed over the swift transfer. The doctor did not reply. In another minute she turned to him with energy.
“John, what possessed you to come to the church?”
“Why, I couldn't get you at home. I drove around there and Mollie said you had gone to church so I just drove there.”
“You ought to have gone without me.”
The doctor smiled. “You didn't have to go. But you are better off out here than sitting in the church.” The horse switched his tail over the reins and the doctor, failing in his effort to release them, gave vent to a vigorous expletive.
“Yes, I certainly do hear some things out here that I wouldn't be apt to hear in there,” she said. Then the reins being released and serenity restored, they went on.