The True Church

Life flowed on very quietly and uneventfully at the Nag's Head during
the next few days. The clergyman and his son were determined walkers,
who set out each morning on a new expedition over the countryside, and
at the evening dinner boasted of the number of miles they had traversed.
What they had seen appeared to be of secondary importance, and they
were correspondingly depressed or elated according as they had fallen
short of, or surpassed previous records of distance.

Mr Macalister sat in the garden, reading day-old editions of the
"Glasga He-rald" from the front page to the last, while his wife made
pilgrimages to the village shop to buy infinitesimal articles of
drapery, and exchange details of domestic history with the good lady in
charge of the emporium.

Mr George Elgood went out fishing in a river two or three miles
distant, accompanied sometimes by his brother, but for the most part by
himself. He also sat at his bedroom window, writing by the hour
together, and always and at all times he avoided his fellow-guests with
a quiet persistence which could not be gainsaid. By the time that
Margot had been in the inn for four days, he had advanced to the point
of bidding her good-night and good morning, staring steadily at a point
about a yard above her head, while on one historic occasion he even
brought himself to remark that it was a fine day. Once also, looking up
suddenly at dinner, she met his eyes fixed upon her with an expression
of intent scrutiny; but he turned aside in evident perturbation at being
discovered, and though the little puss thereafter wore her prettiest
dresses, and took special pains with the arrangement of her hair, the
incident was never repeated.