Mrs. Sampson explained that she was suffering from one of the worst of her nervous headaches and that she could not have endured the service another moment. Miss Stiles was all eager solicitude. "I _am_ so sorry. I know how you are when you get one of those things. Nothing does it any good, does it? I know you've tried everything, and it simply goes on for days and days, getting worse and worse. And the really terrible part of them is that, with you, they seem to be constitutional. No doctors can do anything--when they're constitutional. There you are for the rest of your days!" Mrs. Sampson gave a little shiver. "I must say, Dr. Puddifoot seems to be very little use," she moaned. "Oh! Puddifoot!" Miss Stiles was contemptuous. "He's past his work. That's one comfort about this place. If any one's ill he dies. No false hopes. At least, we know where we are." They walked through the Martyr's Passage out into the full sunlight of the Precincts. "What a jolly day!" said Mrs. Combermere, "I shall take my dogs for a walk. By the way, Ellen," she turned round to her friend, "how did Miss Burnett's tea-party go? I haven't seen you since." "Oh, it was too funny!" Miss Stiles giggled. "You never saw such a mixture, and I don't think Miss Burnett knew who any one was. Not that she had much time to think, poor dear, she was so worried with the tea. Such a maid as she had you never saw!" "A mixture?" asked Mrs. Combermere. "Who were they?" "Oh, Canon Ronder and Bentinck-Major and Mrs. Brandon and--Oh, yes! actually Falk Brandon!" "Falk Brandon there?" "Yes, wasn't it the strangest thing. I shouldn't have thought he'd have had time--However, you told me not to, so I won't--" "Who did you talk to?" "I talked to Miss Burnett most of the time. I tried to cheer her up. No one else paid the least attention to her." "She's a very stupid person, it seems to me," Mrs. Sampson murmured. "But of course I know her very slightly." "Stupid!" Miss Stiles laughed. "Why, she hasn't an idea in her head. I don't believe that she knows it's Jubilee Year. Positively!" A little wind blew sportively around Miss Stiles' large hat. They all moved forward. "The funny thing was--" Miss Stiles paused and looked apprehensively at Mrs. Combermere. "I know you don't like scandal, but of course this isn't scandal--there's nothing in it--" "Come on, Ellen. Out with it," said Mrs. Combermere. "Well, Mrs. Brandon and Mr. Morris. I caught the oddest look between them." "Look! What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Combermere sharply. Mrs. Sampson stood still, her mouth a little open, forgetting her neuralgia. "Of course it was nothing. All the same, they were standing at the window saying something, looking at one another, well, positively as though they had known one another intimately for years. I assure you--"