"Gracious heavens," thought Mrs. Morrison, perfectly staggered by this speech. Had Lady Shuttleworth suddenly lost her reason? Or was she already accepting the girl as her son's wife? Priscilla looked at her a moment with grave eyes. "Is it because I'm a girl that I mustn't?" she asked. "Yes. For one thing. But--" Lady Shuttleworth shut her mouth. "But what?" asked Priscilla. "Oh, nothing." "If it's not the custom of the country for a girl to go I'll send Mr. Morrison," said Priscilla. "Send Mr. Morrison?" gasped the vicar's wife. "What, the vicar?" exclaimed Lady Shuttleworth. "No, no," said Priscilla smiling, "young Mr. Morrison. I see him over there tying up my creepers. He's so kind. He'll go. I'll ask him." And nodding good-bye she hurried out of the garden and over to her cottage, almost running in her desire not to keep Mrs. Jones any longer in suspense. The two women, rooted to the ground, watched her as if fascinated, saw her speak to Robin on his ladder, saw how he started and dropped his nails, saw how nimbly he clambered down, and how after the shortest parley the infatuated youth rushed away at once in the direction of the Cock and Hens. The only thing they did not see from where they stood was the twinkle in his eye. "I don't think," murmured Lady Shuttleworth, "I don't think, my dear, that I quite care to go in to Mrs. Jones to-day. I--I think I'll go home." "So shall I," said Mrs. Morrison, biting her lips to keep them steady. "I shall go and speak to the vicar." XI