“I am not authorised to interfere in Mrs. Capel’s affairs.” Gabriel was quite himself again and very stiff. “But I understand you will be.” “I would rather not discuss the future with you.” “Then you do intend to try and out me?” Gabriel was suddenly a little sorry for him, he looked so desperately miserable and anxious, and after all he, Peter Kennedy, was leaving the house. Gabriel was remaining, sleeping under the same roof. “I will see her maid if possible. You shall be called up if you are needed. Nothing but her well-being, her own wish will be thought of.... Anyway you shall have a report.” “As her doctor she trusts me. I can ease her symptoms.” It was almost a plea. “She need not suffer.” “Of course you will be sent for. They have your telephone number?” Peter held out his hand. “Good-night. You’re a good fellow. She is quite right. I suppose I ought not to have told you how it is with me...?” “It is of no consequence,” Gabriel answered, intending to be courteous. CHAPTER XI Sunday morning the church bells were chiming against the blue sky in the clear air. Both invalids were better. The reports Gabriel received whilst he sat over his solitary breakfast were to the effect that Miss Stanton had slept well and was without headache, she sent word also of her intention to go to church if it were possible. Stevens herself told him that Mrs. Capel would be coming down at eleven o’clock or half-past, having had an excellent night. He was not to stay in for her. “Can you tell me how far off is the nearest church?” Stevens was fully informed on the matter. There were two almost within equal distance. “Not more than a quarter of an hour to twenty minutes away. The nearest is the ’ighest....” Stevens was a typical English maid, secretly devoted to her mistress, well up in her duties but with a perpetual grievance or list of grievances. “Not that I get there myself, not on Sunday mornings, since I’ve been here.” Gabriel was sympathetic. Contempt, however, was thrown upon his suggestion of the afternoon. “Children’s services and such-like, no thank you!” As for the evenings Stevens said “they was mostly hymns.” He detained her for a few minutes, for was she not Margaret’s confidential maid, compensating her, too, for her lack of religious privileges. He told her to tell her mistress he would walk to church with his sister and then return, that he looked forward to seeing her if she were really better. Otherwise she was not to think of rising. “She’ll get up right enough. I’m to have her bath ready at ’alf-past ten.” When Anne came down he walked with her over the common-land, bright with gorse and broom that lay between Carbies and the higher of the two churches, heard how Anne had lain awake and then how she had slept, sure of the intervention of Mrs. Roope. Her headache had completely disappeared. “You did send that telegram, didn’t you?”