Katherine frowned slightly. It was as though something in the letter puzzled and intrigued her.
"A choir boys' picnic indeed," came from Miss Viner. "Tommy Saunders and Albert Dykes ought to be left behind, and I shan't subscribe to it unless they are. What those two boys think they are doing in church on Sundays I don't know. Tommy sang, 'O God, make speed to save us,' and never opened his lips again, and if Albert Dykes wasn't sucking a mint humbug, my nose is not what it is and always has been."
"I know, they are awful," agreed Katherine.
She opened her second letter, and a sudden flush came to her cheeks. Miss Viner's voice in the room seemed to recede into the far distance.
When she came back to a sense of her surroundings Miss Viner was bringing a long speech to a triumphant termination.
"And I said to her, 'Not at all. As it happens. Miss Grey is Lady Tamplin's own cousin.' What do you think of that?"
"Were you fighting my battles for me? That was very sweet of you."
"You can put it that way if you like. There is nothing to me in a title. Vicar's wife or no vicar's wife, that woman is a cat. Hinting you had bought your way into Society."
"Perhaps she was not so very far wrong."
"And look at you," continued Miss Viner. "Have you come back a stuck-up fine lady, as well you might have done? No, there you are, as sensible as ever you were, with a, pair of good Balbriggan stock
