Tempest’s mouth curved in a responsive smile
“Did she? Nice woman, your Maria Coombe. But I expect the real truth of the matter is that the rector has a particularly kind and long-suffering flock.”
“A good shepherd makes a good flock, I think,” said Ann softly. And for the hundredth time wondered how so human and lovable a man came to possess a sister of Miss Caroline’s description.
“Ha! There you are, Coventry!” exclaimed Tempest, as they came abreast of the solitary figure. “I’ve just been telling Miss Lovell that I fancied you weren’t altogether blessing me for having lured you out of your lair to this sort of parish pow-wow.”
“Not at all. It’s very good of people like you and Lady Susan to bother about me, seeing that, even when I am dug up, I’m afraid I’m very poor company.”
Eliot smiled rather briefly as he answered, but there was a certain friendly good-humour in his eyes as they rested on the other man’s face. As Ann had remarked, no one ever resented the rector’s kindly strategy.
“Have either of you seen the greenhouses?” demanded Tempest presently. “No? Oh, you must. We’re rather conceited over our show of flowers this year.”
Accordingly they progressed towards the hot-houses, collecting Lady Susan and Cara, and one or two other scattered guests, as they went. Ann felt hemmed in. It began to look rather as though she and Eliot would not get a moment to themselves throughout the afternoon. Then she found him at her side, and something in the quickly amused glance of his eyes, as they swept over the gradually increasing numbers of the party, and then met her own, served to comfort her.
“The world is too much with us,” he murmured.
After that it seemed as though they were companions in distress, linked by a secret, wordless understanding, and Ann walked on with a lighter heart.