“Drinking, that’s what he’d been,” he told his wife, and his wife said, “Oh, William,” as one who makes response to an officiating priest.

But he wronged David, who was not drunk—only starved for lack of sleep, and strung to the breaking point. His voice stumbled over the words in which he took Elizabeth to be his wedded wife and trailed away to a whisper at the conclusion.

A gusty wind beat against the long grey windows, and between the gusts the heavy rain thudded on the roof above.

Mary shivered in the vestry as she kissed Elizabeth and wished her joy. Then she turned to David and kissed him too. He was her brother now, and there would be no more nonsense. Edward frowned, David stiffened, and Elizabeth, standing near him, was aware that all his muscles had become rigid.

Elizabeth and David went out by the vestry door, and stood a moment on the step. The rain had ceased quite suddenly in the April fashion. The sky was very black overhead and the air was full of a wet wind, but far down to the right the water meadows lay bathed in a clear sweet sunshine, and the west was as blue as a turquoise. Between the blue of the sky and the bright emerald of the grass, the horizon showed faintly golden, and a broken patch of rainbow light glowed against the nearest dark cloud.

David and Elizabeth walked to their home in silence. Mrs. Havergill awaited them with an air of mournful importance. She had prepared coffee and a cake with much almond icing and the word “Welcome” inscribed upon it in silver comfits. Elizabeth ate a piece of cake from a sense of duty, and David drank cup after cup of black coffee, and then sat in a sort of stupor of fatigue until roused by the sound of the telephone bell.

After a minute or two he came back into the room.

“Ronnie is worse,” he said shortly. There was a change in him. He had pulled himself together. His voice was stronger.

“He’s worse. I must go at once. Don’t wait dinner, and don’t sit up. I may have to stay all night.”

When he had gone, Elizabeth went upstairs to unpack. Mrs. Havergill followed her.