'It's for the master.'
'He cannot see you.'
The two old faces regarded each other with silent obstinacy, and Vessons recognized that, for all Mrs. Marston's soft outlines, she was as obstinate as he was. He cleared his throat several times.
Mrs. Marston produced a lozenge, which he ate reluctantly, chumbling it with nervous haste. He was so afraid that she would give him another that he told her his news.
'Thank you,' she said, keeping her dignity in a marvellous manner. 'Mrs. Edward Marston, of course, wrote to the minister, but she forgot to give her address.'
'Accidents will 'appen,' Vessons remarked, as he went out.
It was some time before Edward came in. He had spent most of his time since last Sunday tramping the hillsides. It was not till he had finished his very cursory meal that his mother said calmly, looking over her spectacles:
'I know where Hazel is.'
'You know, mother? Why didn't you tell me?'
'I am telling you, dear. There's nothing to be in a taking about.
You've had no supper yet. A little preserve?'