"But--well, but----?" impatiently. "I should have thought he was more your sort than Maud's, that's all." "My sort!" She was white to the lips, and there was a sudden heaving of her bosom. "My--my sort?" "I'll tell you what I mean. We had a long day together yesterday--no, it was the day before. There wasn't much doing, the birds were shy and scattered, and I took Foster into our church, as he seemed to want to see it. I told him I generally went to yours for the sake of the walk, but--anyhow he seemed to hanker after going inside, and it is an awfully nice, rum, little old place, you know; lots of people come to see it. Oh, they come from long distances. Foster was delighted; I couldn't tear him away. He poked and poked about, and at last he said to me: 'This is the sort of thing I've dreamed about. An English village church, with its old worn pillars and arches----' and he raved on a bit. I said I liked it too; of course I did; I had known it all my life, and he said 'Ah?' and was quite interested. And then--I don't know how it was--it just seemed as if we were in the thick of it all of a sudden--he was talking about his ideas of marriage and that. You never heard anything so queer! But it was very nice, you know. I didn't mind it a bit, only I thought to myself, 'Do you jolly well imagine you are going to catch old Maud going in with those highflown ideas? Because if _you_ do, _I_ don't.'" "What ideas?" said Leo, in a strangled voice. She had a choking sensation in her throat. "Eh? Well----" he considered; "they weren't exactly what you would have expected from a fellow who's knocked about as Foster has. Sort of romantic, you know." As she made no reply, he continued: "I expect he had to let them out to some one, and perhaps Maud--what do you think? Do you see Maud playing the pious and charitable?--but I daresay she will, you know. Woa there! I have it, I knew there was something," his tone quickened, "he called her, that's to say he didn't call _her_, but of course he meant her, he said he hoped his wife would be an 'Angel in the House,' or something of that kind. He said a lot more, but I can't remember it." "You are remembering very well. Go on." "So then I thought of you." "Of me? Oh, no." "But I did, Leo. I can't help it. Anyhow I did." After a minute he continued briskly. "Whatever made him think of Maud? She must have been jolly different to him from what she is to us. You know what I mean, Leo. If he thinks he is going to marry a saint----" "Oh, Val, don't. You mustn't. You haven't said anything about this to other people?" said Leo, in great agitation, "you haven't, have you?" "Rather not. Give you my word. I have been bursting with it ever since--and if my gran had known she'd have got it out of me sure as fate--but she doesn't care twopence about Foster, and is only glad it isn't you." "Do leave me out of the question. I--I--why should you think of me at all?"