"Not that I know of. But I believe that she'd marry the dustman if he asked her."
"Good Lord. Bad as that? Poor child. Well, what are we to do. Take her and shake her?"
"I don't know. I leave her to you, my dear. As I have always said, I disapprove entirely of your sweeping condemnation of provincial towns. Your views on matrimony are appalling, especially as——"
"As I was inconsistent over Martin? But, Father dear, haven't I explained to you a million times that it isn't marriage I object to—only marriage as an end of life in itself, as the ultimate goal of the female soul's development——"
The door opened.
Mrs. Raikes, the vicar's housekeeper, looked in.
"Miss 'Ammond, sir."
They rose to welcome Muriel.
She came forward with characteristic timidity and shook hands with Delia and her father.
"I hope you're better?" she inquired of Delia.