Allegra had taken kindly to parish work, and, in Mr. Colfox’s own phraseology, was a tower of strength to him in his labours among the poor of Trelasco. She had started a series of mothers’ meetings in the winter afternoons, and had read to the women and girls while they worked, helping them a good deal with their work into the bargain. She had done wonders at penny readings, singing, reciting, drawing lightning caricatures of local celebrities with bits of coloured chalk on rough white paper. Her portrait of Vansittart Crowther had been applauded to the echo, although it was not a flattering portrait. She had visited the sick; she had taught in the night school. The curate had been enthusiastic in his appreciation of her, and his praises had been listened to contemptuously by the two Miss Crowthers, each of whom at different periods had taken up these good works, only to drop them again after the briefest effort. “She will get tired as soon as we did,” said Alicia, “when she finds out how impossible these creatures are--unless she has an ulterior motive.” “What ulterior motive should she have?” asked Colfox, bluntly. “Who can tell? She may want to get herself talked about. As Miss Leland, of the Angler’s Nest, a sort of useful companion to her brother’s wife, she is a nobody. If she can get a reputation for piety and philanthropy, that will be better than nothing. Or she may be only angling for a husband.” “If you knew her as well as I do you would know that she is above all trivial and selfish motives, and that she is good to these people because her heart has gone out to them.” “Ah, but you see we don’t know her. Her brother has chosen to hold himself aloof from Glenaveril; and I must say I am very glad he has taken that line--for more than one reason.” “If any of your reasons concern Miss Leland you are very much mistaken in under-rating her. You could not have had a more delightful companion,” said Mr. Colfox, with some warmth. “Oh, we all know that you have exalted her into a heroine--a St. John’s Wood St. Helena. But she is a little too unconventional for my taste; though I certainly would rather be intimate with her than with her sister-in-law.” “Surely you have no fault to find with that most gentle creature?” “She is just a little too gentle for my taste,” replied Alicia, who usually took upon herself all expression of opinion, while Belinda fanned herself languidly, in an æsthetic attitude, feeling that her chief mission in this life was to sit still and look like _la belle dame sans merci_. “She is just as much too quiet as Miss Leland is too boisterous. I have no liking for pensive young women who cast down their eyelids at the slightest provocation, and are only animated when they are flirting.” “The tongue is a little member,” quoted Mr. Colfox, taking up his hat, and holding out his hand in adieu.