‘Oh, that’s nothing. There’s no harm done,’ said Mrs. Sitwell. ‘I am always running about. Here is Austin to back me up. He will tell you how I have been calculating upon you, Miss Hayward. Dear, don’t pant, but tell her. I have told every one you were coming. Oh, don’t disappoint me—don’t, don’t!’
‘I can’t help panting,’ said the clergyman; ‘it is my usual state. I am always running after my wife. But, Miss Hayward, it is quite true. We want you very much, and she has quite set her heart upon it. I do hope you will come—as I think you said.’
Mrs. Sitwell left Joyce no time to reply. ‘You must, you must, indeed,’ she said. ‘Ah, Colonel Hayward, I saw what you did. You brought down the Great Gun upon her. Was that fair? when we had been so fortunate as to see her first, and when she had begun to take to us. And whatever he may say, you are in our district. Of course the parish includes everything. I think that man would like to have all England in his parish—all the best people. He would not mind leaving us the poor.’
‘Hush, Dora,’ said her husband. ‘I don’t wonder you should form a strong opinion: but we must not say what is against Christian charity.’
‘Oh, charity!’ cried the clergyman’s wife; ‘I think he should begin. I am sure he told Miss Hayward that she was to have nothing to do with us. Now, didn’t he? I can read it in your face. Austin himself, though he pretends to be so charitable, said to me when we saw him talking, “Now you may give up all hopes;” but I said, No; I had more opinion of your face than that. I knew you would stick to your first friends and hold by your word.’
‘You ought to be warned, Miss Hayward,’ said the Rev. Austin Sitwell; ‘my wife’s quite a dangerous person. She professes to know all about you if she only sees your photograph—much more when she has the chance of reading your face.’
‘Don’t betray me, you horrid tell-tale,’ said his wife, threatening him with a little finger. There was a hole in the glove which covered this small member, which Joyce could not but notice as it was held up; and this curious colloquy held across her bewildered her so much, that she had scarcely time to be amused by it. For one thing, there was no need for her to reply. ‘But I do know the language of the face,’ said Mrs. Sitwell. ‘I don’t know how I do it, it is just a gift. And I know Miss Hayward is true. Wombwell’s field at three o’clock to-morrow afternoon. You won’t fail me! Colonel Hayward, you’ll bring her, now won’t you? or it will quite break my heart.’
‘Sooner than do that, my dear lady,’ said the Colonel, with his hat in his hand——
‘Ah, you laugh—you all laugh; you don’t think what it is to a poor little woman trying to do her best. Good-bye, then, good-bye till to-morrow—Wombwell’s field. I shall quite calculate on seeing you. My love to dear Mrs. Hayward. Tell her we got the cakes this morning—such lovely cakes. I shall keep a piece for my own chicks. Good-bye, good-bye.’