The Bishop, who was a much more sensitive man than Luke, saw at once that Rachel was feeling tried, and did what he could to turn the conversation in a direction that Mrs. Greville could not participate in for a short time, but before a few words had been exchanged with. Rachel or Luke, Mrs. Greville chimed in and again monopolised his attention. She felt that Luke and Rachel were silent and so did what she could to help to make talk, quite oblivious of the fact that she herself was the cause of their silence. Luke indeed did not notice that Rachel was not talking, or that he himself had very little opportunity of doing so, for he was naturally a silent man, having contracted the habit from having so talkative a mother. Happily after lunch, Mrs. Greville had to go to some parish engagement so that Rachel and Luke had their chance of a talk; and finally Luke was called off to see someone and Rachel had the Bishop to herself. The talk did her good, specially as she made him laugh over the matter of the two pies. "Now that lunch is over," she said laughingly, "I am thankful that I changed them. I believe it would have given my mother-in-law a terrible shock if she had found out that I neither wanted nor liked her pie. And perhaps it would have ended in an estrangement between me and Luke as he would have probably heard of it, and I am quite sure he would never have understood. And fancy! All because of a pie! How silly and small I am." [Illustration] CHAPTER IX. GWEN. "I expect that Gwen has been in one of her naughty moods," said Rachel, as she passed the letter she had received from her mother to Luke when they were at breakfast. "I was the only one who could do anything with her." "I see that she is coming instead of Sybil." "Yes, and I am sure that is the reason. I shall love to have her." "I think I shall be somewhat afraid of that young person," said Luke with a laugh. "She is one of the independent kind I noticed at our wedding." "She is a darling, and I know you will love her. But I own that at times she is an enfant terrible, one never knows what she is going to say next. One thing, however, we may be sure of, she is absolutely true, and says what she really thinks. You must prepare for the worst," she added, laughing, "and you must overlook her faults. I shall not forgive you if you don't love her. To me she is a most fascinating little thing." And Gwen arrived the next day. She was a girl of fifteen, tall and slim, not exactly pretty; but there was a charm about her that could not be denied, and Rachel, as she met her at the station, could not help hugging her. She was a bit of home, fresh and sweet; and carried about with her the atmosphere of golden cornfields and scented hedges. Rachel had not seen anything so fresh and full of life since leaving home.