She entered the churchyard, saw the Abbey door open, and hastened to
it. She was in a state of bewilderment and terror that would have
crazed a weaker woman. In the porch she cast a glance behind her:
there again was her pursuer! She sprang into the church. A woman was
dusting a pew not far from the door.

"Who is that coming?" she asked, in a tone and with a mien that
appalled Mrs. Jenkins. She had but to stretch her neck a little to
see through the porch.

"Why, it be only the parson, ma'am!" she answered.

"Then I shall hide myself, over there, and you must tell him I went
out by that other door. Here's a sovereign for you."

"I thank you, ma'am," said Mrs. Jenkins, looking wistfully at the
sovereign, which was a great sum of money to a sexton's wife with
children, then instantly going on with her dusting; "but it ain't no
use tryin' of tricks with our parson. HE ain't one of your Mollies.
A man as don't play no tricks with hisself, as I heerd a gentleman
say, it ain't no use tryin' no tricks with HIM."

Almost while she spoke, the curate entered. The suppliant drew
herself up, and endeavoured to look both dignified and injured.

"Would you oblige me by walking this way for a moment?" he said,
coming straight to her.

Without a word she followed him, a long way up the church, to the
stone screen which divided the chancel from the nave. There, in