Other eyes saw this, too; a pair of handsome dark eyes that belonged to Mrs. Temple, who had followed her nephew-in-law's upward glance, and watched, half with amusement, half with scorn, his brown face color slightly, and a soft look steal over his good-looking face. She also had seen the entrance of the three young Churchills, and drew her own conclusions from John's expression. He had only arrived at the Hall the evening before, and had in the morning expressed a wish to attend the service at the parish church, somewhat to Mrs. Temple's surprise. "I thought going to church would not have been in your way," she had said at the time. "I have never heard your father preach," answered John, smiling. "You will fall asleep during the sermon--I warn you," answered Mrs. Temple, also smiling. "I am a bad sleeper, so that will be delightful," said John. The squire was ailing, and had a cold, and therefore did not go to church, so Mrs. Temple and John alone occupied the Hall pew. And when she saw the look on May Churchill's face, and the look on John Temple's as their eyes met, she understood why her husband's nephew had wished to hear her father preach. That look indeed had thrilled through both their hearts. Yet, as John's eyes fell, he sighed softly, and Mrs. Temple heard the sigh. But May did not sigh. He had come back; she would see him again, and when she did see him she would tell him she had made the decision he had asked for. She sat there between her two young brothers with her heart beating tumultuously, beating with joy and hope. Presently Hal Churchill gave a little kick at her small foot. "I say, May," he said in a loud whisper, bending his head toward his sister's ear, "d'ye see who's in the squire's pew?" May made no answer. She frowned, or rather pretended to frown, and Hal went on unabashed: "I heard he'd come back last night, but forgot to tell you," continued Hal. "Horrid boy," thought May, remembering some sleepless hours she had spent grieving over John Temple's absence. The service went on; the weak-eyed curate, who also admired May Churchill, looked up to the gallery occasionally, and so did Mrs. Layton. This good lady repeated the responses in a loud tone, so as to let all those around her know how pious she was, yet she was not above worldly thoughts at the same time. She disapproved of May Churchill's picture hat and picture face. She was wondering what the world was coming to when tenant farmers' daughters dressed as May was dressed. She repeated, "Have mercy upon us miserable sinners," but she did not really include herself in that category. She prayed for her neighbors, but not for herself, and she was greatly troubled in spirit concerning May Churchill's picture hat.