All her life Martha had been there. She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. Her father and her husband, who had both been a little pale at their first encounter, were growing now just faintly flushed. The solemn strokes were immediately answered by a multitude of chimes, sounding across the Thames, amongst which the deep note of Saint Paul's was plainly distinguishable. “Really!” said Mr. "If you don't stop its squalling, I will. She had unaccountable gleams of sympathy with and liking for him. It would be downright cruel to disillusion her. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. Besides these there was a warm gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon pie—the latter capacious enough, even allowing for its due complement of steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest of fennel. . “It was very tiring. I never see them, they never even call. So, at least, thought one of two persons who were seated together in a small back-parlour of the house at Dollis Hill. ’ The lodgekeeper had been in fine fettle by the time Major Alderley had produced his investigatory force at the gates.
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