"If they are friends of Mr. Ross, he can find them for himself," said she. "It is none of our business. And—and—if they are not—I won’t have him insulted by anyone going from this house!" He looked at her: she did not often talk in this indignant and vehement way. "Oh, very well," he said. "Very well. It doesn’t matter to me. You may have cause to change your opinion to-morrow." All that evening very little mention was made of the subject about which everyone was secretly thinking. Frank Meredyth, finding it was of no use to try to move Mary from her purpose, thought the best thing he could do was to reassure her: he said he hoped Ernestine would prove amusing. And next morning, too, he professed to treat the whole affair as a jest; but all the same he kept going to the window from time to time, to have a look at the little groups of twos and threes who were congregated here and there, talking amongst themselves. For there was clearly some small commotion prevailing; the people were not attending to their ordinary affairs; the most trifling occurrence—a dog-fight in the street—attracted all eyes. Mary insisted on setting out early; she wished everyone to see that she was going to attend the meeting. And hardly had they left the house—they were going round by the end of the quay—when Fred Stanley said in an undertone to his neighbour Meredyth— "I don’t know what’s going to happen; but if they try on any games, I’ve got a little friend in my pocket here that can bark—and bite." Mary overheard, and turned on him at once. "What is that?" said she. "Your revolver? Let me see it." He looked round: there was no one by. "Oh, it is an elegant little companion to have with you," he said, bringing forth the silver-mounted weapon from his pocket, and regarding it quite affectionately. She took it from him—he thinking that she merely wished to look at it—and, without more ado, she pitched it over the low sea-wall: there was a splash in the clear green water, and a bubble or two of air. "Things of that sort are not fit for children," she said—and she took no heed of the angry flush that at once rose to his forehead: anger more probably caused by the reference to his youth than to the loss of his revolver. However, he said nothing; and so they went on again; and eventually arrived at the church.