The day following the rector's call on Mrs. Biggs was Sunday, and the morning was wet and misty, with a thick, white fog which crept up from the sea and hid from view objects at any distance away.
"This is nearly as bad as London," Howard said to Jack when, after breakfast, they stood looking out upon the sodden grass and drooping flowers in the park. "Have you a mind to go to church?"
Jack shrugged his shoulders, and replied, "Not I; it's too damp. Are you going?"
Howard had not thought of doing so until that moment, when an idea came suddenly into his mind, and he answered, "I think so,—yes. Some one ought to represent the Crompton pew. It is out of the question for my uncle to go, and he would not if he could. He has taken a violent prejudice against the new rector, for no reason I can think of. He is a good fellow,—the rector, I mean,—and not too straight-laced to smoke a cigar, and he knows a fine horse when he sees one, and preaches splendid sermons. I think I shall go and encourage him."
He did not urge Jack to accompany him, nor would Jack have done so if he had. There was an idea in his mind, as well as in Howard's, which he intended to carry out, and half an hour after Howard started for church, he, too, left the house and walked slowly through the park in the direction of Mrs. Biggs's.
"I don't know as it is just the thing to call on Sunday," he thought, hesitating a little as he came in sight of the house, "but it seems an age since I saw her. I'll just step to the door and inquire how she is."
His knock was not answered at first, but when he repeated it he heard from the parlor what sounded like—"The key is under the mat," in a voice he knew did not belong to Mrs. Biggs. That good woman was in church. Tim had gone to the choir in St. John's, and Eloise was alone. Ruby Ann had been to see her the night before with her massage and rubber band, both of which had proved so successful that Eloise was feeling greatly encouraged, and the outlook was not quite so forlorn as when she first landed at Mrs. Biggs's, helpless and homesick and half crazed with pain. Her ankle was improving fast, although she could not walk; but she had hopes of taking her place in school within a week or ten days. Mrs. Biggs had wondered why the young men from Crompton Place did not call on Saturday, and Eloise had felt a little disappointed when the day had passed and she did not see them.
"'Tain't noways likely they'll come to-day. Folks know my principles, and that I don't b'lieve in Sunday visiting," she said as she tidied up the room before starting for church. "Nobody'll come, unless it is Ruby Ann with her massage, that's no more good than a cat's foot; so I'll just give the parlor a lick and a promise till to-morrow, and 'fise you I'd be comfortable in that wrapper."
But Eloise insisted upon the white dressing jacket with pink ribbons, in which Mrs. Biggs said she looked "like a picter," regretting that the young men could not see her.
"If it wasn't for desiccating the Sabbath I wish them high bucks would call," she added, as she gave a final whisk to the duster and went to prepare for church. "I'm goin' to lock the door and put the key under the mat, so nobody can get in if they want to. I might lose it if I carried it to meetin'. I did once, and had to clamber inter the butry winder," was her last remark as she left the house; and Eloise heard the click of the key and knew she was locked in and alone.