The service over, Beatrice waited until the body of the church was empty, save for herself and Larose, and then with a smile at her companion, walked softly up the aisle and turned into the vestry.
The rector affected a deep sigh directly she came in. “Now, my dear Miss Brabazon-Fane,” he said with an uneasy smile, “this is not fair of you to come and tackle me here. You ought to have waited until I came up to you tonight.”
“No, Mr. Vavasour,” said Beatrice sharply. “I wasn't going to have a light argument with you over a cigarette and a cup of coffee. You have made this a serious matter and it had best be settled within the walls of that same church where this poor girl used once to kneel and pray.”
“Believe me, it's a real grief——” began the rector.
“I should think it could be,” inte
