Again she listened to the man's voice--her brother Charles's delightful
young voice. It brought back the glamour of her girlhood, of other
voices which had mingled with his, of dances, picnics, cricket matches,
days with the hounds. She felt strangely moved, transported; also
strangely shy--so that she debated retirement. Did not, of course,
retire, but went into the drawing-room with a gentle rush, a dart
between the stumpy pillars.
"I hoped that I should find you both," she said. "Yes," to Damaris'
solemn and enquiring eyes--"I happened to meet our good, kind Canon and
have a little conversation with him. I hope"--to Faircloth--"you and I
may come to know one another better, know one another as friends. You are
not going?--No, indeed, you must stay to luncheon. It would grieve
me--and I think would grieve my brother Charles also, if you refused to
break bread in this house."
CHAPTER V
DEALING WITH EMBLEMS, OMENS AND DEMONSTRATIONS
Deadham resembled most country parishes in this, that, while revelling in
internal dissensions, when attacked from without its inhabitants promptly
scrapped every vendetta and, for the time being, stood back to back
against the world.
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