Mollie never let fall a hint of the aversion she had conceived for the man, which seemed to have come to her suddenly, and for no reason that she wanted to examine. Some change in her attitude towards him he must have felt, for he showed slight resentments and caprices in his towards her; but Mrs. Mercer exulted openly in the return of her allegiance, and if he was not satisfied that it had extended to himself he had no grounds on which to express complaint. There was no doubt, at least, that Mollie was more at the disposal of himself and his wife than she had been at any time since the Graftons had come to the Abbey, and he put it down as the result of his wife's visit to Mrs. Walter, which he had instigated if not actually directed. So he accepted the renewal of intimacy with not too bad a face, and neither Mrs. Walter nor Mrs. Mercer conceived it to be less complete between all of them than it had been before. The Vicar had a grievance on this winter afternoon, which he was exploiting over the tea-table. "The least that could be expected," he was saying, "when the Bishop of the Diocese comes among us is that the clergy of the neighbourhood should be asked to meet him in a friendly way. Mrs. Carruthers gives a great deal of hospitality where it suits her, and I hear that the whole Grafton family has been invited to dinner at Surley Park to-morrow, as of course was to be expected. They have made a dead set at the lady and she at them, and I suppose none of her parties would be complete without a Grafton to grace it, though it's difficult to see what pleasure she can expect the Bishop to take in meeting a young girl like Barbara, or a mere child like the boy." "Oh, but elderly men do like to have young things about them, Albert," said Mrs. Mercer; "and as this is a purely private family party I dare say Mrs. Carruthers thought that his lordship would prefer to meet lay people rather than the clergy." The Vicar's mouth shut down, as it always did in company when his wife made a speech of that sort. She had been a good wife to him--that he would have been the first to admit--but he never _could_ get her to curb her tongue, which, as he was accustomed to say, was apt to run away with her; although he had tried hard, and even prayed about it, as he had once told her.