The day following was Sunday, and Mrs. Fairfax and her daughter were at
church. They sat at the back, and all the congregation turned on
entering, looked at them, and thought about them during the service.
They went out as soon as it was over, but Mrs. Harrop, wife of the
ironmonger, and Mrs. Cobb, wife of the coal merchant, escaped with equal
promptitude and were close behind them.
"There isn't a crease in that body," said Mrs. Harrop.
On Monday Mrs. Bingham was at the post-office. She took care to be
there at the dinner hour, when the postmaster's wife generally came to
the counter.
"A newcomer, Mrs. Carter. Have you seen Mrs. Fairfax?"
"Once or twice, ma'am."
"Has she many letters?"
The door between the office and the parlour was open.
"I've no doubt she will have, ma'am, if her business succeeds."
"I wonder where she lived before she came here. It is curious, isn't
it, that nobody knows her? Did you ever notice how her letters are
stamped?"
"Can't say as I have, ma'am."
Mrs. Carter shut the parlour door.
Pages:
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209