all his soul--ding--ding-ding, ding-ding.

The old Squire entered the church, paused, and blew his nose
violently, and taking Honoria by the hand, marched her up to the end
of the south aisle. The door of the great pew was shut upon them,
and they disappeared. Before Honoria vanished Taffy caught a glimpse
of a grey felt hat with pink ribbons.

The servants scattered and found seats in the body of the church.
He went on ringing, but no one else came. After a minute or two
Mr. Raymond signed to him to stop and go to his mother, which he did,
blushing at the noise of his shoes on the slate pavement.
Mr. Raymond followed, walked slowly past, and entered the
reading-desk.

"When the wicked man turneth away from his wickedness that he hath
committed, and doeth that which is lawful and right, he shall save
his soul alive. . . ."

Taffy looked towards the Squire's pew. The bald top of the Squire's
head was just visible above the ledge. He looked up at his mother,
but her eyes were fastened on her prayer-book. He felt--he could not
help it--that they were all gathered to save this old man's soul, and
that everybody knew it and secretly thought it a hopeless case.
The notion dogged him all through the service, and for many Sundays
after. Always that bald head above the ledge, and his father and the
congregation trying to call down salvation on it. He wondered what
Honoria thought, boxed up with it and able to see its face.

Mr. Raymond mounted an upper pulpit to preach his sermon. He chose