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 up at him with fine eyes that she had once learnt how to use; she was so little conscious of the Vicar's masculinity that he might have been one of the tombstones, but eyes that have learnt their lesson never forget.

"Must you go at once?" she said pathetically. "I want to talk a little more about the window. I would like to go and look from outside at the place where it is going to be."

They retraced their steps a little and took a path that skirted the north side of the church and passed underneath the two east windows.

"I know you are not a resident," said the Vicar. Still a diffident man, he disliked these inquiries; however oblique, they savoured too strongly of parsonic officiousness. But still, one ought to know.

"Do you think of paying us a long visit? The country is hardly at its best just now. Do you like the village?"

"I think the village is sweet—it does appeal to me. So quaint and homely. I am staying here in lodgings; they are most