But there were persons in the church who remained untouched by it. In the left aisle Hester sat a little apart from her sisters, her hard, curious look ranging from the preacher through the crowded benches. She surveyed it all as a spectacle, half thrilled, half critical. And at the western end of the aisle the squire and his son stood during the greater part of the service, showing plainly by their motionless lips and folded arms that they took no part in what was going on. Father and son walked home together in close conversation. And two days later the first anonymous letter in the Meynell case was posted in Markborough, and duly delivered the following morning to an address in Upcote Minor. CHAPTER XI "What on earth can Henry Barron desire a private interview with me about?" said Hugh Flaxman looking up from his letters, as he and his wife sat together after breakfast in Mrs. Flaxman's sitting-room. "I suppose he wants subscriptions for his heresy hunt? The Church party seem to be appealing for funds in most of the newspapers." "I should have thought he knew I am not prepared to support him," said Flaxman quietly. "Where are you, old man?" His wife laid a caressing hand on his shoulder--"I don't really quite know." Flaxman smiled at her. "You and I are not theologians, are we, darling?" He kissed the hand. "I don't find myself prepared to swear to Meynell's precise 'words' any more than I was to Robert's. But I am ready to fight to prevent his being driven out." "So am I!" said Rose, erect, with her hands behind her. "We want all sorts." "Ye-es," said Rose doubtfully. "I don't think I want Mr. Barron." "Certainly you do! A typical product--with just as much right to a place in English religion as Meynell--and no more." "Hugh!--you must behave very nicely to the Bishop to-night." "I should think I must!--considering the _ominum gatherum_ you have asked to meet him. I really do not think you ought to have asked Meynell." "There we must agree to differ," said Rose firmly. "Social relations in this country must be maintained--in spite of politics--in spite of religion--in spite of everything." "That's all very well--but if you mix people too violently, you make them uncomfortable." "My dear Hugh!--how many drawing-rooms are there?" His wife waved a vague hand toward the folding doors on her right, implying the suite of Georgian rooms that stretched away beyond them; "one for every _nuance_ if it comes to that. If they positively won't mix I shall have to segregate them. But they will mix." Then she fell into a reverie for a moment, adding at the end of it--"I must keep one drawing-room for the Rector and Mr. Norham--" "That I understand is what we're giving the party for. Intriguer!" Rose threw him a cool glance. "You may continue to play Gallio if you like. _I_ am now a partisan." "So I perceive. And you hope to turn Norham into one."