Though, like that of most other intelligent creatures, her soul turned with loathing from the dreary fustian of politics, she would religiously search the parliamentary column from beginning to end on the chance of finding his name or the notice of a speech by him.

The law reports also furnished her with a happy hunting-ground in which she often found her game.
But they were miserable months.

To rise in the morning, to go through the round of daily duty--thinking of Geoffrey; to come home wearied, and finally to seek refuge in sleep and dreams of him--this was the sum of them.

Then there were other troubles.

To begin with, things had gone from bad to worse at the Vicarage.