CHAPTER XII
LITTLE BILSTEAD GOES TO CHURCH
NEVER within the memory of the oldest inhabi- tant had Little Bilstead shown itself so devout as on the Sunday morning following the return of Mist' Alfred. It had awakened with a delightful feeling of expectancy. Instinctively its thoughts gravi- tated towards church, for was not Mist' Alfred stay- ing at the vicarage?
The return of "Mist' Alfred" had been regarded by every man and woman in Little Bilstead as a godsend. The women gossiped about it for hour after neglectful hour, and the men yearned for the leaden minutes to pass until they could foregather at The Pigeons and en- quire of one another, "Well, bor, wot d'you think on it?"
The prodigal's denial that he was the prodigal, they seemed to take as a matter of course. They knew Alfred Warren to be a craven, and what more natural than that he should deny sowing the wind, lest the whirlwind engulf him. Their conversation turned largely upon what would happen when Bob Thirkettle should return, as all knew he inevitably would. As a matter of fact, several had taken the precaution of writing to tell him that Alfred Warren was back. If they had keener eyes than Nemesis, it was but friendly to lend her a helping hand.
Never in its history had rumour run through Little
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