At once he began the “Doxology,” which was sung with great fervor, and the love feast broke up after a brief prayer. Mr. Todd overtook Mrs. Saumarez on the green. Bolland and his wife were escorting her to The Elms.
“I hope you liked the service, madam,” he said politely.
“I thought it most interesting,” she answered slowly. “I think I shall come again.”
He took off his hat and assured her that she would always be welcome at Bethel Chapel. He, worthy man, no less than the Bollands, could little guess this woman’s motives in thus currying favor with the villagers. Had an angel from Heaven laid bare her intent, they would scarce have believed, or, if conviction came, they would only have deemed her mad.
A breathless Françoise met her mistress at the gate. Angèle was not to be found anywhere, and it was so late, nearly eight o’clock. Nor was Martin to be seen. Madam would remember, they had gone off together.
Mrs. Saumarez explained what all the gesticulation was about.
“If she’s wi’ Martin, she’ll be all right,” said Bolland. “He’ll bring her yam afore ye git yer things off, ma’am.”
He was right. Angèle had discovered that Elsie Herbert would be at the church bazaar that evening, and planned the ramble with Martin so that the vicar’s daughter might meet them together on the high road.
It delighted her to see the only rival she feared flash a quick side glance as she bowed smilingly and passed on, for Mr. Herbert did not wholly approve of Angèle, so Elsie thought it best not to stop for a chat. Martin, too, was annoyed as he doffed his cap. He thought Elsie would surely ask how he was. Moreover, those hot kisses were burning yet on his lips; the memory made him profoundly uncomfortable.