"Yes," said Alice, very briefly, and in a tone which seemed to endeavor not to imply disapprobation.
"And perhaps you know that Catholics don't quite like to hear their religion called 'Popery.' So I was a little irritated; but then I reflected that as the title of the book was so, you could not order it by another name than the name upon its titlepage." Here there was a pause, as Alice did not speak. Philip resumed,—
"Do you live in Sootythorn, Miss Stedman?"
"Not far out of the town. Indeed our house is surrounded by buildings now. It used to be quite in the country."
"I—I should like to call upon Mr. Stedman very much when I am quite well again."
For some seconds there was no answer. Then Alice said in a low tone, almost inaudible, "I should be very glad to see you again."
A heavy and rapid step on the gravel behind them abruptly ended this interesting conversation.
It was not Madge Anison's step. They stopped and looked round. The Reverend Abel Blunting confronted them.
If poor Alice had not had that miserable habit of blushing, the reverend gentleman would have perceived nothing beyond the simple fact that the young lady was walking in a garden with Mr. Philip Stanburne. But Alice's face was suffused with crimson, and the knowledge that it was so made her so uncomfortable that she blushed more than ever. In spite of his manhood, there was a slightly heightened color on Philip's cheek also, but a good deal of this may be attributed to vexation at what he was disposed to consider an ill-timed and unwarrantable intrusion.
"Good morning, Miss Alice! I hope you are quite well: and you, sir, I wish you good morning; I hope I see you well."