He began to think about one or two matters that to him were not altogether pleasing.  Chief among these was the fact that Sir Morton Pippitt had driven over twice now ’to inspect the church’—­ accompanied by Lord Roxmouth, and the Reverend ‘Putty’ Leveson.  Once Lord Roxmouth had left his card at the rectory, and had written on it:  ’Wishing to have the pleasure of meeting Mr. Walden’—­a pleasure which had not, so far, been gratified.  Walden understood that Lord Roxmouth was, or intended to be, the future husband of Miss Vancourt.  He had learned something of it from Bishop Brent’s letter--but now that his lordship was staying as a guest at Badsworth Hall, rumour had spread the statement so very generally that it was an almost accepted fact.  Three days had been sufficient to set the village and county talking;—­Roxmouth and his tools never did their mischievous work by halves.  John Walden accepted the report as others accepted it—­only reserving to himself an occasion to ask Miss Vancourt if it were indeed true.  Meantime, he kept himself apart from the visitors—­he had no wish to meet Lord Roxmouth—­ though he knew that a meeting was inevitable at the forthcoming dinner-party at Abbot’s Manor.  Bainton had that dinner-party on his mind as well as his master.  He had heard enough of it on all sides.  Mrs. Spruce had gabbled of it, saying that ‘what with jellies an’ ices an’ all the things as has to be thought of an’ got in ready,’ she was ‘fair mazed an’ moithered.’  And she held forth on the subject to one of her favourite cronies, Mrs. Keeley, whose son Bob was still in a state of silent and resentful aggressiveness against the ‘quality’ for the death of his pet dog.

“It’s somethin’ too terrible, I do assure you!” she said—­“the way these ladies and gentlemen from Lunnon eats fit to bust themselves!  When they fust came down, I sez to cook, I sez—­’Lord bless ’em, they must ’ave all starved in their own ‘omes’—­an’ she laughed—­she ’avin ‘sperience, an’ cooked for ’ouse-parties ever since she learned makin’ may’nases [mayonnaise] which she sez was when she was twenty, an’ she’s a round sixty now, an’ she sez, ’Lor, no!  It do frighten one at first wot they can put into their stummicks, Missis Spruce, but don’t you worry—­you just get the things, and they’ll know how to swaller ’em.’  Well now, Missis Keeley, if you’ll b’lieve me”—­and here Mrs. Spruce drew a long breath and began to count on her fingers—­“This is ‘ow we do every night for the visitors, makin’ ready for hextras, in case any gentleman comes along in a motor which isn’t expected—­fust we ’as horduffs—–­”

“Save us!” exclaimed Mrs. Keeley—­“What’s they?”