And they, whether they would or no, could not but feel the power of the rugged figure in the short clerical coat and wide-awake, and of the searching look with which he regarded them. Hester nervously began to put on her hat. Philip threw away his cigar, and braced himself angrily.
"Your mother has been anxious about you, Hester," said Meynell, at last.
"And I have come to bring you home."
Then turning to Meryon he said—"With you, Philip, I will reckon later on. The lies you have instructed your servants to tell are a sufficient indication that you are ashamed of your behaviour. This young lady is under age. Her mother and I, who are her lawful guardians, forbid her acquaintance with you."
"By what authority, I should like to know?" said Philip sneeringly.
"Hester is not a child—nor am I."
"All that we will discuss when we meet," said the Rector. "I propose to call upon you to-morrow."
"This time you may really find me fled," laughed Philip, insolently. But he had turned white.
Meynell made no reply. He went to Hester, and lifting the girl's silk cape, which had fallen off, he put it round her shoulders. He felt them trembling. But she looked at him fiercely, put him aside, and ran to Meryon.
"Good-bye, Philip, good-bye!—it won't be for long!" And she held out her two hands—pleadingly. Meryon took them, and they stared at each other—while the Rector was conscious of a flash of dismay.
What if there was now more in the business than mere mischief and wantonness? Hester was surprisingly lovely, with this touching, tremulous look, so new, and, to the Rector, so intolerable!
"I must ask you to come at once," he said, walking up to her, and the girl, with compressed lips, dropped Meryon's hands and obeyed.