Footsteps came up the path, and on the very verge of the porch a voice spoke—­a woman’s voice, unmodulated, arrogant.

“Oh, really, Edward!  I don’t see why your village schoolmaster should be asked to lunch every Sunday, however immaculate he may be.  I object on principle.”

The words were scarcely uttered before the notes of the organ swelled suddenly through the church.  Juliet sent a quick look towards it, and saw the black cropped head of the man in question as he sat at the instrument.  It occupied one side of the chancel and a crowd of village children congregated in the side pews immediately outside and under the eye of the organist.  Juliet felt an indignant flush rise in her cheeks.  She was certain that that remark had been audible all over the church, and she resented it with almost unreasonable vehemence.

Then with a sweep of feathers and laces the speaker entered, and Juliet raised her eyes to regard her.  She saw a young woman, delicate-looking, with a pretty, insolent face and expensive clothes, walk past, and was aware for a moment of a haughty stare that seemed to question her right to be there.  Then her own attention passed to the man who entered in her wake.

He was tall, middle-aged, handsome in a somewhat ordinary style, but Juliet thought his mouth wore the most unpleasant expression she had ever seen.  It was drawn down at the corners in a sneering curve, and a decided frown knitted his brows.  He walked with the suggestion of a swagger, as if ready to challenge any who should dispute his right to the place and everyone in it.

His wife entered the great square pew, but he strode on to the chancel, tapped the organist unceremoniously on the shoulder and spoke to him.

Juliet watched the result with a curiosity she could not restrain.  The black head turned sharply.  She caught a momentary glimpse of Green’s energetic profile as he spoke briefly and emphatically and immediately returned to his instrument.  The squire marched back to his pew still frowning, and the voluntary continued.  He played with assurance but somewhat mechanically, and she presently realized that he was keeping a sharp eye on the schoolchildren at the same time.  The service was a lengthy one and they needed supervision.  They fidgeted and whispered unceasingly.  A lady whom she took to be the Vicar’s daughter sat near them, but it was quite obvious that she had no control over them.  During the sermon, which was a very sleepy affair, Green left the organ and went and sat amongst them.

Then indeed a profound quiet reigned and Juliet became so drowsy that it took her utmost resolution to stay awake.  Most of the congregation slept unrestrainedly.  It was certainly a hot morning, and the service very dull.

When it was over at last, she stepped out under the yew-trees and wondered why she had not made her escape before.  She was the first to leave the church, and wandering down the path through the hot, chequered sunlight she saw the shining car drawn up at the gate, and a young chauffeur waiting at the door.  She glanced at him as she passed, and was surprised for a second to find him gazing at her with a curious intentness.  He lowered his eyes the moment they met hers, and she passed on, wondering what there was about her to excite his interest.