She was conscious also that nearly every man and certainly every woman in the congregation was surreptitiously watching her, and it seemed that in talking so interestedly with Isabey she was showing a want of dignity and feeling in the very face of her enemies, for so she reckoned every person in Petworth Church that day, except, perhaps, Mrs. Charteris. In a quarter of an hour the rain ceased. The sun burst forth in noonday splendor, and the people on leaving the church went out into a world of green and gold and dripping diamonds. Isabey, who had driven to church in the tavern keeper’s gig, thankfully accepted a seat in the Harrowby carriage. As the old coach jolted along the country road by green fields and through woodland glades, the whole world shining with sun and rain, Angela found herself listening with the same intensity to all Isabey said in his soft, rich voice. Colonel and Mrs. Tremaine were charmed with him, for Isabey had an extraordinary power of pleasing. He mentioned that his stepmother, Madame Isabey, and her daughter by her first marriage, Madame Le Noir, were then in Richmond as refugees from New Orleans. “They must not remain in Richmond,” cried Colonel Tremaine decisively, and, turning to Mrs. Tremaine, said: “My dearest Sophie, it is impossible to think of these ladies left alone in Richmond while their natural protector, Captain Isabey, is in the field. They must come to Harrowby to remain during the war.” “Certainly,” responded Mrs. Tremaine, “and bring their servants, of course.” Isabey opened his black eyes wide. He had heard of Virginia hospitality, but this invitation to house a whole family for an indefinite time amazed and touched him. “I thank you very much,” he said, “not only for myself but for my stepmother and Madame Le Noir. It is certainly most kind of you.” “I shall not be satisfied with your thanks,” replied Colonel Tremaine, putting his hand on Isabey’s knee. “Those ladies must come to Harrowby at once.” “The weather is warm,” murmured Mrs. Tremaine, “and it must be terrible in a city during warm weather.” “Your relatives are at the Exchange Hotel probably, as that is the only place to stay in Richmond. When I was a boy it was the Eagle Tavern.” “Yes, they’re there,” answered Isabey. “We must both write to-morrow,” said Mrs. Tremaine, “inviting Madame Isabey and Madame Le Noir to come to Harrowby. We should write to-day except that it is Sunday.” Isabey had heard of the Sabbatarianism in Virginia and perceived that it was extreme, like Virginia hospitality.