And over all streamed the delicious June sunshine through the
old windows, with their desultory patches of yellow, red, and blue, that
threw pleasant touches of colour on the opposite wall.
I think, as Mr. Irwine looked round to-day, his eyes rested an instant
longer than usual on the square pew occupied by Martin Poyser and his
family. And there was another pair of dark eyes that found it impossible
not to wander thither, and rest on that round pink-and-white figure. But
Hetty was at that moment quite careless of any glances--she was absorbed
in the thought that Arthur Donnithorne would soon be coming into church,
for the carriage must surely be at the church-gate by this time. She
had never seen him since she parted with him in the wood on Thursday
evening, and oh, how long the time had seemed! Things had gone on just
the same as ever since that evening; the wonders that had happened then
had brought no changes after them; they were already like a dream. When
she heard the church door swinging, her heart beat so, she dared not
look up. She felt that her aunt was curtsying; she curtsied herself.
That must be old Mr. Donnithorne--he always came first, the wrinkled
small old man, peering round with short-sighted glances at the bowing
and curtsying congregation; then she knew Miss Lydia was passing,
and though Hetty liked so much to look at her fashionable little
coal-scuttle bonnet, with the wreath of small roses round it, she didn't
mind it to-day.
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