CHAPTER 6.
One November morning, at least six months after the Countess Czerlaski had taken up her residence at the vicarage, Mrs.Hackit heard that her neighbour Mrs.Patten had an attack of her old complaint, vaguely called 'the spasms'.

Accordingly, about eleven o'clock, she put on her velvet bonnet and cloth cloak, with a long boa and muff large enough to stow a prize baby in; for Mrs.Hackit regulated her costume by the calendar, and brought out her furs on the first of November; whatever might be the temperature.

She was not a woman weakly to accommodate herself to shilly-shally proceedings.

If the season didn't know what it ought to do, Mrs.Hackit did.

In her best days, it was always sharp weather at 'Gunpowder Plot', and she didn't like new fashions.
And this morning the weather was very rationally in accordance with her costume, for as she made her way through the fields to Cross Farm, the yellow leaves on the hedge-girt elms, which showed bright and golden against the long-hanging purple clouds, were being scattered across the grassy path by the coldest of November winds.