The service was just commencing when she reached the church.

Mary Stopperton showed her into a seat and evidently remembered her.

"I want to see you afterwards," she whispered; and Mary Stopperton had smiled and nodded.

The service, with its need for being continually upon the move, bored her; she was not in the mood for it.

And the sermon, preached by a young curate who had not yet got over his Oxford drawl, was uninteresting.