The Testing of Diana Mallory | Page 6

southern aisle; the
loaves standing near the porch for distribution after service, in
accordance with an old benefaction; the fragments of fifteenth-century
glass in the windows; the school-children to her left; the singing, the
prayers, the sermon--found her in a welcoming, a child-like mood. She
knelt, she sang, she listened, like one undergoing initiation, with a
tender aspiring light in her eyes, and an eager mobility of expression.
Mrs. Colwood was more critical. The clergyman who preached the
sermon did not, in fact, please her at all. He was a thin High
Churchman, with an oblong face and head, narrow shoulders, and a
spare frame. He wore spectacles, and his voice was disagreeably
pitched. His sermon was nevertheless remarkable. A bare yet
penetrating style; a stern view of life; the voice of a prophet, and
apparently the views of a socialist--all these he possessed. None of
them, it might have been thought, were especially fitted to capture
either the female or the rustic mind. Yet it could not be denied that the
congregation was unusually good for a village church; and by the
involuntary sigh which Miss Mallory gave as the sermon ended, Mrs.
Colwood was able to gauge the profound and docile attention with
which one at least had listened to it.
After church there was much lingering in the churchyard for the
exchange of Christmas greetings. Mrs. Colwood found herself
introduced to the Vicar, Mr. Lavery; to a couple of maiden ladies of the

name of Bertram, who seemed to have a good deal to do with the Vicar,
and with the Church affairs of the village; and to an elderly couple, Dr.
and Mrs. Roughsedge, white-haired, courteous, and kind, who were
accompanied by a soldier son, in whom it was evident they took a
boundless pride. The young man, of a handsome and open countenance,
looked at Miss Mallory as much as good manners allowed. She,
however, had eyes for no one but the Vicar, with whom she started,
tête-à-tête, in the direction of the Vicarage.
Mrs. Colwood followed, shyly making acquaintance with the
Roughsedges, and the elder Miss Bertram. That lady was tall, fair, and
faded; she had a sharp, handsome nose, and a high forehead; and her
eyes, which hardly ever met those of the person with whom she talked,
gave the impression of a soul preoccupied, with few or none of the
ordinary human curiosities.
Mrs. Roughsedge, on the other hand, was most human, motherly, and
inquisitive. She wore two curls on either side of her face held by small
combs, a large bonnet, and an ample cloak. It was clear that whatever
adoration she could spare from her husband was lavished on her son.
But there was still enough good temper and good will left to overflow
upon the rest of mankind. She perceived in a moment that Mrs.
Colwood was the new "companion" to the heiress, that she was a
widow, and sad--in spite of her cheerfulness.
"Now I hope Miss Mallory is going to like us!" she said, with a touch
of confidential good-humor, as she drew Mrs. Colwood a little behind
the others. "We are all in love with her already. But she must be patient
with us. We're very humdrum folk!"
Mrs. Colwood could only say that Miss Mallory seemed to be in love
with everything--the house, the church, the village, and the neighbors.
Mrs. Roughsedge shook her gray curls, smiling, as she replied that this
was no doubt partly due to novelty. After her long residence abroad,
Miss Mallory was--it was very evident--glad to come home. Poor
thing--she must have known a great deal of trouble--an only child, and
no mother! "Well, I'm sure if there's anything we can do--"

Mrs. Roughsedge nodded cheerfully towards her husband and son in
front. The gesture awakened a certain natural reserve in Mrs. Colwood,
followed by a quick feeling of amusement with herself that she should
so soon have developed the instinct of the watch-dog. But it was not to
be denied that the new mistress of Beechcote was well endowed, as
single women go. Fond mothers with marriageable sons might require
some handling.
But Mrs. Roughsedge's simple kindness soon baffled distrust. And Mrs.
Colwood was beginning to talk freely, when suddenly the Vicar and
Miss Mallory in front came to a stop. The way to the Vicarage lay
along a side road. The Roughsedges also, who had walked so far for
sociability's sake, must return to the village and early dinner. The party
broke up. Miss Mallory, as she made her good-byes, appeared a little
flushed and discomposed. But the unconscious fire in her glance, and
the vigor of her carriage, did but add to her good looks. Captain
Roughsedge, as he touched her hand, asked whether he should find her
at