"Then you intend to call upon her?" said Mrs. Venables, coming with
directness to an obviously premeditated point.

"I do--I must--it is so different with us," said the vicar's young wife,
with her pretty brown blush.

"Certainly," added the vicar himself, with dogmatic emphasis.

Mrs. Venables did not look at him, but she looked the harder at Morna
instead.

"Well," said she, "I suppose you are right. In your position--yes--your
position is quite different!" And the sudden, half accidental turn of
her sentence put Mrs. Venables on good terms with herself once more; and
so she rose all smiles and velvet. "No, not even half a cup; but it was
really quite delicious; and I hope you'll come and see me soon, and tell
me all about her. At his age!" she whispered as she went. "At
sixty-five--if he's a day!"

A stranger would have imagined that this lady had quite decided not to
call upon the newcomer herself; even Mrs. Woodgate was uncertain of her
neighbor's intention as the latter's wheels ground the Vicarage drive
once more, and she and her husband were left alone.

"It will depend upon the county," said she; "and Mrs. Venables is not
the county pure and simple, she's half Northborough still, and she'll
take her cue from the Invernesses and the Uniackes. But I do believe
she's been round the whole country-side, getting people to say they
won't call; as if it mattered to a man like Mr. Steel, or any woman he
is likely to have chosen. Still, it is mysterious, isn't it? But what