8. THE TENTH OF SEPTEMBERThe Sunday was the thirteenth after Trinity, and the afternoon
service at Carriford was nearly over. The people were singing the
Evening Hymn.
Manston was at church as usual in his accustomed place two seats
forward from the large square pew occupied by Miss Aldclyffe and
Cytherea.
The ordinary sadness of an autumnal evening-service seemed, in
Cytherea's eyes, to be doubled on this particular occasion. She
looked at all the people as they stood and sang, waving backwards
and forwards like a forest of pines swayed by a gentle breeze; then
at the village children singing too, their heads inclined to one
side, their eyes listlessly tracing some c***k in the old walls, or
following the movement of a distant bough or bird with features
petrified almost to p
