The bald top of the Squire's head was just visible above the ledge.

He looked up at his mother, but her eyes were fastened on her prayer-book.

He felt--he could not help it--that they were all gathered to save this old man's soul, and that everybody knew it and secretly thought it a hopeless case.
The notion dogged him all through the service, and for many Sundays after.

Always that bald head above the ledge, and his father and the congregation trying to call down salvation on it.

He wondered what Honoria thought, boxed up with it and able to see its face.
Mr.Raymond mounted an upper pulpit to preach his sermon.