Half an hour before church Rachel Seddon and Uncle Tim were alone together in the drawing-room. She was standing, prepared and waiting, staring through the windows at the wild meadow that seemed now soaked with moisture, bent before the dripping wind. She was thinking very deeply. She did not at first hear Uncle Tim, and when, turning suddenly, she saw him, she thought how exactly he suited the day. By his appearance he instantly justified the atrocious weather: he was wearing a rough grey suit and a low flannel collar: his heard and hair glistened, as though the damp had soaked through them, he carried a muddy trowel in his hand. He came hurriedly into the room, as though he were searching for something. Then when he saw Rachel he stopped, put the trowel down on one of the drawing-room chairs, smiled at her, and came across to her. She had never known him very well, but she had always liked him—his genial aloofness, the sense that he always gave of absolute independence, cheerful but never dogmatic, pleased her. Now she was troubled, and felt that he could help her. “What’s the matter with Katie?” she said, abruptly, looking at him with sharp but deeply honest eyes. He felt in his tumbled pockets for his pipe and tobacco, then slowly said: “I was just off for worms—I wanted Henry, but I suppose he’s going to church.... Katie?... Why?” “I don’t know why. I want to know. It’s been these last few days—ever since—ever since—Saturday, Friday, Thursday—the day at Rafiel. She’s unhappy.” “The lovers have had a quarrel.” “If it were only that!... no, that’s not Katie, and you know it isn’t. Philip’s done something—told her something—” “Ah, you think that because you dislike him.” “I don’t know that I do—now. I certainly did at first, but now—here ... I don’t know. He’s so much younger than I’d expected, and he is really trying his best to suit himself to the family and the place. I’m sorry for him. I rather like him after all. But _what_ is the matter with everyone? Why is the house so uncomfortable? Why can’t it all be just smooth and easy? Of course we all hated Katie being engaged at first—I suppose we thought that she might have done better. But now everyone ought to be used to it: instead of being used to it, it’s positively ‘nervy’ the atmosphere.” “It’s simply,” said Uncle Tim, pressing down his tobacco into his pipe, “the attack by a Young Man with Imagination upon a family without any. The Young Man’s weak of course—people with imagination always are—he’s weak and impatient, and insists upon everything being perfect. All the family wants is to be let alone—but it will never be let alone again. The break-up is beginning.” “The break-up?” said Rachel.