She moved on to a point where, still hidden, she could see the lawn. The Vicar was in full career; the harsh creaking voice came to her from the distance. What an awkward unhandsome figure, with his long, lank countenance, his large ears and spectacled eyes! Yet an apostle, she admitted, in his way--a whole-hearted, single-minded gentleman. But the barn he should not have.
She watched him depart, and then slowly emerged from her hiding-place. Muriel, putting loving hands on her shoulders, looked at her with eyes that mocked a little--tenderly.
"Yes, I know," said Diana--"I know. I shirked. Did he want the barn?"
"Oh no. I convinced him, the other day, you were past praying for."
"Was he shocked? 'It is a serious thing for women to throw themselves across the path of progress,'" said Diana, in a queer voice.
Muriel looked at her, puzzled. Diana reddened, and kissed her.
"What did he want, then?"
"He came to ask whether you would take the visiting of Fetter Lane--and a class in Sunday-school."
Diana gasped.
"What did you say?"