He was a little surprised. Mr. Eames had retired to the church three weeks before. It seemed scarcely possible that he had been there ever since.
"Your poor dear uncle," said Mrs. Eames to Beth, "is more tiresome than I've ever known him before. Not that I want to say a word against him. He's a darling, but it is tiresome of him to spend all of every day in the church. I never see him except at night, and do you know what I found out yesterday? He's taken a spade and a pickaxe up there with him. At least, if he hasn't taken them I don't know what's happened to them. I can't find them. The man who does the garden wanted the spade yesterday, and while he was looking for it he found that the pickaxe was gone too. So annoying."
"Couldn't be digging graves, could he?" said Jimmy not very helpfully.
"Oh, no," said Mrs. Eames. "Poor Timothy never does anything as useful as that. You wouldn't think it of him if you knew him, Lord Colavon, and of course it may not be he who has taken the spade. I only said he had because I can't think of anyone else who would take it. But what would he want a pickaxe for inside the church? And he never comes out. He just sits there all day, reading Greek, you know."
Sir Evelyn, though he did not say so, was of opinion that the vicar must have gone mad. St. Paul, who also seems to have read Greek books, was suspected of having been driven insane through much learning. Something of the sort might have happened to Mr. Eames; but Sir Evelyn was more inclined to lay the blame on Mrs. Eames. He thought it likely that he would be mad too if he had been married to her.
"So you're really an actress," said Mrs. Eames, turning abruptly to Mary. "You did say she was a real actress, didn't you, Beth? Isn't that lucky? You must know all about pageants, if you're an actress, and you'll be able to help us. I do want someone to help. You'll come and stay with us till the pageant's over, won't you? You can have Beth's room. Or if Beth comes too, you can share it. You'll come, won't you, Beth?"
"Miss Lambert and Miss Appleby," said Sir Evelyn, "have kindly consented to stay with me till the play is over."
"Quite right," said Mrs. Eames cheerfully. "They'll be far more comfortable with you. I'd love to have them both. You know that, Beth. But—well, you know what Gladys is like."
"But of course I'll help," said Mary. "I'll come over every day."