"I will wait," said Malling, marveling at the rector's rapid and accurate powers of observation.
Those of the congregation who had not remained for the celebration were quickly dispersing, but Malling now noticed that the lady with the white lock was, like himself, waiting for some one. She stood not far from him. She was holding a parasol, and looking down; she moved its point to and fro on the ground. Several people greeted her. Almost as if startled she glanced up quickly, smiled, replied. Then, as they went on, she again looked down. There was a pucker in her brow. Her lips twitched now and then.
Suddenly she lifted her head, turned and forced her quivering mouth to smile. Mr. Harding had come into sight round the corner of the church.
"Ah, Mr. Malling," he said, "so you have stayed. Very good of you.
Sophia, let me introduce Mr. Malling to you—my wife, Lady Sophia."
The lady with the white lock held out her hand.
"You have heard Professor Stepton speak of Mr. Malling, haven't you?" added the rector to his wife.
"Indeed I have," she answered.
She smiled again kindly, and as if resolved to throw off her depression began to talk with some animation as they all walked together toward the street. Directly they reached it the rector said:
"Are you engaged to lunch to-day, Mr. Malling?"
"No," answered Malling.