"It would have been so difficult to refuse. They introduced me to Beatrix and to Mr. Grafton, and they were all so nice, and seemed to take it for granted that I should go with them. I thought perhaps the Vicar and Mrs. Mercer would have come over too. He likes them so much, and says they make him feel so at home there. He has helped them a lot getting into order." "He is one of those men who likes to help everybody," said Mrs. Walter. "Nobody could possibly have been kinder to _us_ than he has been, from the beginning. We are very fortunate indeed to have found such a nice clergyman here. It might have been so different. We must be especially careful not to give him the _slightest_ reason to think that he doesn't come first with us." "Oh, of course, he and Mrs. Mercer would always be our chief friends here. But you see, Mother dear, I've had so few girl friends, and I think these really might be. I love than all, especially Beatrix. She's sweet, and I believe she'd like to be friends. When I said I must ask you first, she said you couldn't possibly object, and I _must_ come." "Well, dear, of course, you could, in the ordinary way. But you know we nearly always go to tea at the Vicarage on Sunday afternoons. If you had walked home with them they would have been sure to ask you. I expect the Vicar will, at Sunday-school this afternoon. Wouldn't it look ungracious if you said you were going somewhere else?" Poor Mollie could not deny that it might, but looked so downcast that her mother suggested waiting to see if the Vicar did ask her, but without suggesting that she should accept the invitation if he did. Mollie was a good girl, and had the reward which does not always attend goodness. She made up her mind that it would not be right to forsake old friends for new ones, that she would walk back with the Vicar after Sunday-school as usual, and if by some fortunate chance he omitted to ask her and her mother to tea she would then go to the Abbey. The Vicar came out as she passed his house with his Bible in his hand. "Well, Mollie," he said. "What became of you after church this morning? I hope your mother isn't unwell." "She didn't sleep well last night, and I made her stay in bed," said Mollie. "But she's up now." She expected that the Vicar's invitation would then be forthcoming, but he said nothing. She waited for him after school as he liked her to do, but as he came out he said: "Well, I suppose you're going home now, dear." He had dropped into the way of calling her dear within a short time of their arrival, and she liked it. She had never known her own father, nor any man who used protecting or affectionate speech towards her. "I must wait for Mrs. Mercer. We are going to the Abbey together." Mollie was vastly relieved. "Oh, then, perhaps we can go together," she said. "They asked me this morning."