In the ordinary course of things this remark would have aroused her host into delivering a neat and timely discourse upon the proper relation of music to the service of the Protestant Church and the tendency of the present age to unduly exalt the former at the expense of the latter.  But to-day he merely upset the salt and looked things at the innocent salt-cellar which his conscience, or his cloth, did not allow him to utter.

Miss Annabel raised her eyebrows at Esther in a significant way, telegraphing, “What did I tell you?” And Esther signaled back, “You were right.  He is certainly not himself.”

Several other topics were introduced with no better result and every one felt relieved when lunch was over.

“I think,” said the Reverend Angus, as they arose, “that it is probably pleasanter in the garden.”

Esther glanced at Miss Annabel.  She wanted very much to go home.  Yet in Coombe it was distinctly bad mannered to leave hurriedly, after a meal.  She thought of pleading a headache, but the excuse seemed too transparent and she could think of nothing better.  Miss Annabel was unresponsive.  Her host was already moving toward the door.  Now he held it open for her.  There was nothing to do but go.  If she were clever she could keep the conversation in Miss Annabel’s hands.

But Miss Annabel’s brother had other ideas.  “I think,” he suggested with the soft authority which in that house was law, “that as you are taking Mrs. Miller’s class, Annabel, it might be well for you to look over the Sabbath School lesson.  Our guest will excuse you, I know.”

“Why, I’ve hardly seen her at all, Angus.”

“There will be time later.  I am sure Miss Esther understands.”

Esther understood very well and her heart sank.  She was probably in for another scolding.  However, as politeness required, she murmured that on no account would she wish to interfere with the proper religious instruction of Mrs. Miller’s class.  Miss Annabel looked rebellious, but as usual found discretion the better part and contented herself with another facial telegram to Esther:  “Find out what is the matter with him.”  And Esther smiled and nodded:  “I’ll try.”

“Perhaps you would like to see the rose bush to which my sister referred,” began the minister nervously as they stepped out upon the lawn.  “It is a very fine rose, but pink, I regret to say, pink.  It is unfortunate that Annabel should dislike pink so much.  I think myself that a pink rose is very pretty.  Something a little different from the red and white varieties.”

Esther murmured, “Naturally,” and opened her strange eyes widely so that he could see the mischief which was like a blue flash in the depths of them.  He coloured faintly.

“I fear I am talking nonsense!  The fact is that I am thinking of something else.  Something so important that it occupies my mind completely.  That is why, Esther, I wished to speak with you alone.”