She did not wish to invite the lady in, but Mrs. Snow showed so very plainly that she intended to enter, that Beatrice could do no less. In silence she led the way to the Snow Parlour, and the vicar's wife was presently seated on the linen-covered sofa, glancing with sharp eyes round the pretty place. It need hardly be said that she glanced with inward disapproval and outward praise. She wanted money for the spire, and therefore had to be polite; but that did not withhold her from inwardly finding all the fault she could.
"A most charming place," said Mrs. Snow, still trying to make herself agreeable.
"I am glad you think so," replied Beatrice, wondering why her unexpected visitor was so very polite; and mindful of Mrs. Snow's past behaviour, the girl could not think that the vicaress was making herself thus pleasant in order to get money for the spire. Besides, the spire had only been damaged on the previous night, and it seemed strange that the woman should begin to hunt for subscriptions for its restoration already. No! Beatrice came to the conclusion, and very rightly, that Mrs. Snow had another motive in paying attention to the girl she had so severely snubbed.
"I have intended to call ever so many times," went on Mrs. Snow, not to be daunted by the frosty manner of her hostess, "but my husband, poor man, is not very well, and I have to attend to a great deal of the parish work."
"There is no need to apologise, Mrs. Snow. I see very few people."
"But those you see are really charming!" gushed the vicaress. "I, of course, allude to Mr. and Miss Paslow."
"They are friends of mine."
"And of mine also, Miss Hedge. Though I will say that this engagement of my son to Miss Paslow does not please me. I really thought"--here Mrs. Snow cast a searching look on the girl's face--"that my son admired you."
"Oh no. He has always been devoted to Miss Paslow."
"His devotion is misplaced," snapped Mrs. Snow, some of the veneer of her gracious manner wearing away. "I shall never consent to such a marriage."