The local papers were full of grumbling letters to that effect.
Her brow knit over Oliver's difficulties. The day before, Mr. Lavery,
meeting Muriel in the village street, had suggested that Miss Mallory
might lend him the barn for a Socialist meeting--a meeting, in fact, for
the harassing and heckling of Oliver.
Had he come now to urge the same plea again? A woman's politics were
not, of course, worth remembering!
She moved on to a point where, still hidden, she could see the lawn. The
Vicar was in full career; the harsh creaking voice came to her from the
distance. What an awkward unhandsome figure, with his long, lank
countenance, his large ears and spectacled eyes! Yet an apostle, she
admitted, in his way--a whole-hearted, single-minded gentleman. But the
barn he should not have.
She watched him depart, and then slowly emerged from her hiding-place.
Muriel, putting loving hands on her shoulders, looked at her with eyes
that mocked a little--tenderly.
"Yes, I know," said Diana--"I know. I shirked. Did he want the barn?"
"Oh no. I convinced him, the other day, you were past praying for."
"Was he shocked? 'It is a serious thing for women to throw themselves
across the path of progress,'" said Diana, in a queer voice.
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