He released her gently. "There! My sermon's over--and so, apparently, is the rain. And that blithe footstep I hear outside surely heralds the approach of Mrs. Spencer!" He was right. After a loud knock the door opened briskly to disclose Mrs. Spencer bearing a lighted lamp; and Herrick went forward to relieve her of her burden. "Enter the Lady with the Lamp!" quoth he, smiling. "Well, Mrs. Spencer, the rain's over and gone, and it's time we went too, eh, Mrs. Rose?" "I suppose so." She took up the coat she had thrown aside. "Has the chauffeur had some tea, Mrs. Spencer?" "Lor yes, ma'am, and enjoyed it too," responded the landlady, beaming. "A rare good trencherman he be an' all! I'd sooner meat him for a week nor a fortnight, as they say in our parts." "Meet him?" Even Herrick did not recognise the idiom. "Yes, sir--board him, give him his meat," explained Mrs. Spencer volubly. "But I can't say as much for you and the young lady, sir." She looked regretfully at the still loaded plates. "We've had a lovely tea, Mrs. Spencer," said Toni, her heart very warm towards this comely woman who had known her father. "I shall come and see you again some day. May I?" Mrs. Spencer immediately invited her to come as often as she liked; and then covered both Toni and Herrick with confusion by refusing to take a penny for their tea. "What--me take money from Roger Gibbs' lass?" she said, her manner filled with the mingled independence and respect of the best type of countrywoman. "Not I, sir. We Yorkshire folks don't grudge a cup o' tea and a bit of fatty cake to them as is like ourselves, exiles in a strange land. Besides, it's been a rare treat to see the young lady. To think that Roger Gibbs' lile lass should come drivin' up in one of they great mutter-cars, too!" "Yes, and it's really time she drove away in it," responded Herrick pleasantly. "I think I hear Fletcher bringing it round." There was a tentative hoot from Fletcher's horn at that moment; and after a grateful farewell, and a vain attempt to pay, at least, for Fletcher's tea, Herrick took Toni out and installed her in the car. He refused her invitation to drive home with her, alleging that his health required exercise; and though Toni might have been forgiven for thinking fifteen miles' ride over a wet and muddy road, under a still cloudy sky, rather a strenuous form of exercise, some newly acquired intuition told her he really wished to be alone. She said good-bye, therefore, without attempting to press the matter; and a moment later the car glided away, its lamps gleaming in the rural blackness of the village street. As he rode home, his tyres splashing through puddles, and spattering him with mud, Herrick's face was very tired and worn, but in his eyes there lurked a little faint light of happiness that he had helped another weary soul a few steps forward on its pilgrimage over a thorny road.