"You bad man! If you want to talk, you must go into the next room."
"Won't you come, Miss Ballinger?" he said. "Your brother and Miss Planter are there. That will equalize the company."
"I am sorry for their want of taste. I prefer listening to Mr. Burton."
Ferrars said nothing, but retired to a distant corner of the room, and took up the Century. He spoke to no one during the remainder of the evening. Mrs. Planter murmured at proper intervals that it was truly delightful, so intellectual, so metaphysical (she pronounced it mutterphysical). Mrs. Courtly and Grace scarcely spoke, but silence is often more eloquent than words, and in his hostess, at least, the young musician knew he had a listener who understood what it was he meant to say. It was this power of understanding which made Mrs. Courtly a delightful companion to so many and to such very different sorts of people.
CHAPTER XII
The next day was Sunday, and when the party assembled at breakfast, at half-past nine, it appeared that Mrs. Courtly had already been to early communion at the neighboring church.
"The carriage will be here at eleven for any one who wants to go to morning service. I am going to evensong instead, and shall take Mr. Laffan for a drive this morning. What will you do, Miss Ballinger?"
Grace said she wished to go to church, whereupon Miss Planter declared she meant to go also, adding,
"I hear Samuel Sparks is near here, and will probably preach."
"Yes," said Mrs. Courtly. "That is the reason I am not going."