When she finished reading Ethelberta left the monument, and then each one present strayed independently about the building, Ethelberta turning to the left along the passage to the south door.  Neigh—­from whose usually apathetic face and eyes there had proceeded a secret smouldering light as he listened and regarded her—­followed in the same direction and vanished at her heels into the churchyard, whither she had now gone.  Mr. and Mrs. Belmaine exchanged glances, and instead of following the pair they went with Mrs. Doncastle into the vestry to inquire of the person in charge for the register of the marriage of Oliver Cromwell, which was solemnized here.  The church was now quite empty, and its stillness was as a vacuum into which an occasional noise from the street overflowed and became rarefied away to nothing.

Something like five minutes had passed when a hansom stopped outside the door, and Ladywell entered the porch.  He stood still, and, looking inquiringly round for a minute or two, sat down in one of the high pews, as if under the impression that the others had not yet arrived.

While he sat here Neigh reappeared at the south door opposite, and came slowly in.  Ladywell, in rising to go to him, saw that Neigh’s attention was engrossed by something he held in his hand.  It was his pocket-book, and Neigh was looking at a few loose flower-petals which had been placed between the pages.  When Ladywell came forward Neigh looked up, started, and closed the book quickly, so that some of the petals fluttered to the ground between the two men.  They were striped, red and white, and appeared to be leaves of the Harlequin rose.

‘Ah! here you are, Ladywell,’ he said, recovering himself.  ’We had given you up:  my aunt said that you would not care to come.  They are all in the vestry.’  How it came to pass that Neigh designated those in the vestry as ‘all,’ when there was one in the churchyard, was a thing that he himself could hardly have explained, so much more had it to do with instinct than with calculation.

‘Never mind them—­don’t interrupt them,’ said Ladywell.  ’The plain truth is that I have been very greatly disturbed in mind; and I could not appear earlier by reason of it.  I had some doubt about coming at all.’

‘I am sorry to hear that.’

’Neigh—­I may as well tell you and have done with it.  I have found that a lady of my acquaintance has two strings to her bow, or I am very much in error.’

‘What—­Mrs. Petherwin?’ said Neigh uneasily.  ’But I thought that—­that fancy was over with you long ago.  Even your acquaintance with her was at an end, I thought.’

’In a measure it is at an end.  But let me tell you that what you call a fancy has been anything but a fancy with me, to be over like a spring shower.  To speak plainly, Neigh, I consider myself badly used by that woman; damn badly used.’

‘Badly used?’ said Neigh mechanically, and wondering all the time if Ladywell had been informed that Ethelberta was to be one of the party to-day.