Mr. Marmaduke Haward was not likely to be accused of diffidence. He had come out of church with the sleepy-headed churchwarden, who was now wide awake and mightily concerned to know what horse Mr. Haward meant to enter for the great race at Mulberry Island, while at the foot of the steps he was seized upon by another portly vestryman, and borne off to be presented to three blooming young ladies, quick to second their papa’s invitation home to dinner. Mr. Haward was ready to curse his luck that he was engaged elsewhere; but were not these Graces the children to whom he had used to send sugar-plums from Williamsburgh, years and years ago? He vowed that the payment, which he had never received, he would take now with usury, and proceeded to salute the cheek of each protesting fair. The ladies found him vastly agreeable; old and new friends crowded around him; he put forth his powers and charmed all hearts,--and all the while inwardly cursed the length of way to the gates, and the tardy progress thereto of his friends and neighbors. But however slow in ebbing, the tide was really set toward home and dinner. Darden, coming out of the vestry room, found the churchyard almost cleared, and the road in a cloud of dust. The greater number of those who came a-horseback were gone, and there had also departed both berlins, the calash, and two chaises. Mr. Haward was handing the three Graces into the coach with the chained coachman, Juba standing by, holding his master’s horse. Darden grew something purpler in the face, and, rumbling oaths, went over to the three beneath the oak. “How many spoke to you to-day?” he asked roughly of his wife. “Did _he_ come and speak?” “No, he didn’t!” cried Mistress Deborah tartly. “And all the gentry went by; only Mr. Bray stopped to say that everybody knew of your fight with Mr. Bailey at the French ordinary, and that the Commissary had sent for Bailey, and was going to suspend him. I wish to Heaven I knew why I married you, to be looked down upon by every Jill, when I might have had his Lordship’s own man! Of all the fools”-- “You were not the only one,” answered her husband grimly. “Well, let’s home; there’s dinner yet. What is it, Audrey?” This in answer to an inarticulate sound from the girl. The schoolmaster answered for her: “Mr. Marmaduke Haward has not gone with the coach. Perhaps he only waited until the other gentlefolk should be gone. Here he comes.” The sward without the gates was bare of all whose presence mattered, and Haward had indeed reëntered the churchyard, and was walking toward them. Darden went to meet him. “These be fine tales I hear of you, Mr. Darden,” said his parishioner calmly. “I should judge you were near the end of your rope. There’s a vestry meeting Thursday. Shall I put in a good word for your reverence? Egad, you need it!”