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The box that held it was adorned with a mammoth scarlet star, and the scheme of decoration of the frock was wholly consonant with the star. Catia had ordered it in hot haste, in deference to a rumour which had drifted to her ears, outstretched in readiness for all such rumours, that, even in that relatively small community, it was the custom to put on low-necked frocks for dinner.
"She was a good woman, Scott, a dear, good woman, even if she always was a little narrow. It can't fail to be a pleasure to you now to think back to the way we have done our best to carry out her wishes as " suddenly Catia bethought herself of the change in the label of their theology "as far as our own consciences would allow us.
In all his life up to this hour, such gentleness never had been meant for him. His mother was too stern; Catia too metallic. As for other women, he had never been in sufficiently short range of them, psychologically speaking, to be aware whether they meant to be gentle to him or not. "I think," Olive was saying; "that she understands it better now.
Catia took great pleasure in the spontaneous accent she contrived to fling into the words. "I do want " Startled, and a little bit surprised at the sudden voice above his off-turned shoulder, the doctor bestirred himself and threw out a vaguely searching hand.
It was at about this epoch, too, that Catia ceased to be Catia and became Kathryn. In some respects, the most remarkable thing about the change was the suddenness with which it was announced to Scott. A dozen of them had been dining at the Keltridges', one night, six months or so after Brenton had come to take charge of the congregation of Saint Peter's.
"All sorts of little things," she answered, with a disconcerting frankness. "Not any one of them count for much; but, taken all together, they're " She hesitated for a word. Brenton supplied it. "Deplorable!" Then he added, "Sorry, Catia, as I said before. Still, I suppose, if I'm not a beauty, I'm about what the good Lord made me." "Fudge!" She put down her cup and rested her chin upon her palms.
The idea of ecclesiastical wirepulling was repugnant to his nature. "One doesn't try for things of that kind, Catia," he answered. "Then one doesn't get them," she retorted curtly. It was Brenton who broke the next period of silence. "Besides," he said, as if his sentences had followed each other without break; "I am not at all sure that my work here is done, by any means." "Scott!"
In accepting the Bishop's intimation that Saint Peter's Parish would extend to him a welcoming hand, he had thought singularly little about the outward trappings of his priesthood. Catia knew it all; but she held her peace. The Bishop also had held his peace, and a little bit for the same reason that Catia had done.
In the meantime, I'll raise my eben-ezer of devout thanksgiving that I'm a girl and therefore can't possibly sit next to Mrs. Brenton at the table. I only hope that honour will descend on you." And it did. Moreover, in the talk which followed on the being seated, it was Catia who took the initiative.
It was the first time that Catia had worn a low-necked frock; but she did not find it disconcerting in the least. It did disconcert Brenton very much, however. Its abbreviated bodice did not fit in with his notions of what was seemly for a rector's wife; moreover, to the end of time, he never could find any great degree of beauty in a woman's shoulder-blades.
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