So, as the time wore on, Alicia waited for Mervyn; but Mervyn never appeared, not even after she came down, becomingly dressed in deep mourning, to sit in the back parlour and receive her friends. Myfanwy Jones, whose holiday had been extended over the funeral by reason of the many orders she had successfully placed for it, looked in several times, but there was not much love lost between the two nowadays. So when, on the morning after the funeral, Myfanwy came to say good-bye, Alicia was relieved. She felt the influence of this big, beautiful, worldly creature to be malign; and, once it was removed, she was sure that Mervyn would surely return to the holder of his secret. "You will be going by the midday carrier," said Alicia cheerfully; "you will have a fine drive to Llanilo whatever." "A beautiful drive," assented Myfanwy; "I was trying to make Mervyn Pugh take it with me for a change, but he prefers to mope. I did not know him such a friend of poor dead Gwen." She challenged Alicia with her bold black eyes, and Alicia felt herself flush. "When people spend their lives together in holy work, Myfanwy dear," she replied in a purring voice, "it is very close they grow to each other, very close indeed." "If they spend their lives together anyway," retorted Myfanwy with a superior laugh, "they often grow very close--very close indeed--sometimes too close." But Alicia was prepared for her, and smiled sweetly. "You do not understand religion, Myfanwy. As Mervyn says, it is such a pity--but we must hope for the best--it will come some day." "So will Christmas," replied Myfanwy with a sphinxlike smile; "but I am not fond of waiting, whatever you may be. Well, good-bye, dear. Do not be frightened when Williams and Edwards send in their bill--it need not be paid till you are married, remember." Alicia paled. The memory of that bill was more to her now than the mere fact that when it came, it would mean a demand for money. That she might manage; but how about the claim on her character? For it would be a big bill, a record of much extravagance. One comfort was that, if she married Mervyn--which seemed not so unlikely now as it had seemed a short time ago--he would not be so terribly shocked; or at any rate he would not be in a position to throw so many stones! It was a lovely afternoon, one of those early January days when earth and sea and sky combine to play a trick on the world, and cheat it into the belief that winter is over. The air, too, felt lighter, more wholesome to Alicia, now that Myfanwy Jones had presumably left the village; presumably, because, though Alicia had not actually seen her go, her boxes had certainly been in the carrier's cart. Alicia had almost made up her mind that if the mountain would not come to Mahomet, Mahomet must go to the mountain. Another Sunday must not pass without an explanation between her and Mervyn; it would not be right to allow him to remain without reproof and exhortation.