She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. His course, however, was no longer interrupted, and he crept on. She was glad to join in the stream of hurrying homeward workers that was now welling out of a thousand places of employment, and to imitate their driven, preoccupied haste. He could not know about the Remenham connection, could he? No one knew but her father and Martha. “I wonder!” said Miss Stanley. She fell into a pleasant dream of positions and work.
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