“You are not very charitable, Miss Greatheart; come, now, confess,” said the vicar, good-humouredly.
“Perhaps not, sir; but I have no patience with atheists and agnostics.”
“An atheist,” continued the vicar, “is a person who does not believe in a God; an agnostic is one who merely says he does not know whether there is a God or not.”
“Doesn’t know!” exclaimed Dora, indignantly. “Wherever was the man brought up?”
That evening, as Miss Santley and Edith went across from the church to the Vicarage together, the vicar joined them, and Miss Dove remained to supper as usual. The time passed pleasantly enough; but Edith was conscious of a certain restraint, in the conversation, a curious chilliness in the atmosphere. When at length she rose to go home, the vicar went to the window, and looked out for a few seconds.
“I think, Mary, you might accompany us; and when we have seen Miss Edith home, we could take a turn round together. It is a beautiful night.”
Mary nodded assent, and Edith felt her heart sink within her. She was certain now that he was avoiding her. As she followed Miss Santley upstairs to put on her things, a sudden thought flashed upon her.
“I shall be with you in a moment, Mary,” she said; “I have dropped my handkerchief, I think.”
She ran back to the parlour, and met the vicar face to face as he paced the room.
She stood still, and looked at him silently for a moment. She had taken him by surprise, and he too stood motionless.