Both men stood up. Laura rose, too, with a scared face, and stood gazing at them, amazed at the storm which had so suddenly arisen. The curate’s height, as the two stood confronting one another, seemed to give him the advantage; and his dark rugged face, kindling with long-repressed feelings, wore the provoking smile of one who, confident in his own powers, has wilfully thrown down the glove and is determined to see the matter through. The rector’s face, on the other hand, was red; and, though he faced his man squarely and threw back his head with the haughtiness of his kind, his anger was mixed with wonder, and it was plain that he was at a loss to understand the other’s ebullition or to decide how to deal with it. There was a moment’s silence, which Laura had not the presence of mind, nor the curate the will, to break. Then the rector said, “Perhaps we had better let this drop for the moment, Mr. Clode.” “As you will,” replied the curate recklessly. “Well, I do will,” Lindo rejoined, with some _hauteur_. And he looked, still standing erect and expectant, as if he thought that Clode could not do otherwise than take his leave. But that was just what the curate had not the slightest intention of doing. Instead, with a cynical smile, he coolly sat himself down again. His superior’s eyes flashed with redoubled anger at this, which seemed to him, after what had passed, the grossest impertinence; but Mr. Clode in his present mood cared nothing for that, and made it very plain that he did not. “Will you think me exacting if I ask for another cup of tea, Miss Hammond?” he said quietly. That was enough to make the rector’s cup run over. He did not wait to hear Laura’s answer, but himself said. “Perhaps I had better say good evening, Miss Hammond.” “You will not forget the bazaar?” she answered, making no demur, but at once holding out her hand. There was a faint note of appeal in her voice which begged him not to be angry, and yet he was angry. “The bazaar?” he said coldly. “Oh, yes, I will not forget it.” And with that he took up his hat and went, feeling much as a man does who, walking along a well-known road, has put his foot into a hole and fallen heavily. He was almost more astonished and aggrieved than hurt.