I like the old Rector--I even like family prayers.' 'I am sure everything--and _everybody_--is perfect at the Rectory!' 'No--not perfect--but peaceable.' He looked at her smiling.

His grey eyes, under their strong black brows, challenged her.

She perceived in them a whole swarm of unspoken charges.

Her own colour rose.
'So peace is what you want ?' 'Peace--and a little sympathy.' 'And we give you neither ?' He hesitated.
'Willy never fails one.' 'So it's my crimes that are driving you away?
It's all to be laid on my shoulders ?' He laughed--uncertainly.
'Don't you believe me when I say I want to do some work ?' 'Not much.

So I have offended you ?' His look changed, became grave--touched with compunction.
'Miss Farrell, I oughtn't to have been talking like this.