“My dear,” she whispered to her daughter at the termination of the service, “I really wish that when he comes to church Mr. Milward could be persuaded not to disturb other people by his movements, and generally to adopt a less patronising attitude towards the Almighty,” a sarcasm that in after days Ellen was careful to repeat to him.
At the doorway they met, and Ellen greeted him with affected surprise:
“I thought that you had given up the idea of coming, Mr. Milward.”
“Oh no; I was a little late, that was all. Did you not hear me come in?”
“No,” said Ellen sweetly.
“If Ellen did not hear you I am sure that everybody else did, Mr. Milward,” remarked Lady Graves with some severity, and then with a sigh she glided away to visit her son’s grave. By this time they were at the church gate, and Ellen turned up the path that ran across the park to the Hall.
“How about our walk?” said Milward.
“Our walk? Oh! I had forgotten. Do you wish to walk?”
“Yes; that is what I came for.”
“Indeed! I thought you had come to church. Well, my brother and Miss Levinger have gone to the Cliff, and if you like we can meet them—that is, unless you think that it is going to rain.”