"Perhaps it was a mistake," the Vicar admitted again. "I suppose I ought to have talked to Mrs. Walter first. But they had both been so amenable in the way they had taken advice from me generally, in things that they couldn't be expected to know about themselves, and so grateful for my friendship and interest in them, that it never occurred to me not to say exactly what I thought. One lives and learns. There's very little _real_ gratitude in the world. Mollie has got thoroughly in with the Graftons now, and all _I_'ve done for her goes for nothing, or very little. And even Mrs. Walter has laid herself out to flatter and please them, in a way I didn't think it was in her to do. She is always running after Miss Waterhouse, and asking her to the Cottage. They both pretend that nothing is altered--she and Mollie--but it's plain enough that now they think themselves on a level with the Graftons--well, they have got where they want to be and can kick down the ladder that led them there. That's about what it comes to, and I can't help feeling rather sore about it. Well, I've unburdened myself to you, and it's done me good. Of course you'll keep what I say to yourselves." "Oh, of course," said Rhoda. "Confidences with us are sacred. Then Mollie still goes over to Grays? Her mother lets her?" "She goes over with the Graftons. I don't fancy she has been by herself; but I never ask. I don't mention the subject at all, and naturally they would be ashamed of bringing it up themselves before me." "The Grafton girls back her up, of course!" "I'm afraid they do. And I hardly like to say it, or even to think it, but Mollie must have given them quite a wrong impression of what was said after she had dined at Grays with them. There is a difference in their behaviour towards me, and I can hardly help putting it down to that. I used to get such a warm welcome at the Abbey, whenever I liked to go there. I could always drop in for a cup of tea, or at any time of the day, and know that they were pleased to see me. When their father was up in town I may have been said really to have looked after them, as was only natural under the circumstances, and everybody was glad to have it so. But now it is entirely different. There is a stiffness; a formality. I no longer feel that I am the chosen friend of the family. And I'm bound to put it down to Mollie. I go in there sometimes and find her with them, and--oh, but it's no use talking about it. I must say, though, that it's hard that everything should be upset for me just because I have not failed in my duty. Standing as I do, for the forces of goodness and righteousness in the parish, it's a bitter disappointment to have my influence spoilt in this fashion; and when at first I had expected something so different." "Mr. Grafton seldom goes to church, does he?"