"
He made one or two essays in the display of unconventionality,
and was quite unaware that he impressed her as a narrow-minded
person. He suppressed the habits of years and made no proposal to
go to church. He discussed church-going in a liberal spirit.
"It's jest a habit," he said, "jest a custom. I don't see what
good it does you at all, really." And he made a lot of excellent
jokes at the chimney-pot hat, jokes he had read in the Globe
'turnovers' on that subject. But he showed his gentle breeding by
keeping his gloves on all through the Sunday's ride, and
ostentatiously throwing away more than half a cigarette when they
passed a church whose congregation was gathering for afternoon
service. He cautiously avoided literary topics, except by way of
compliment, seeing that she was presently to be writing books.
It was on Jessie's initiative that they attended service in the
old-fashioned gallery of Blandford church. Jessie's conscience, I
may perhaps tell you, was now suffering the severest twinges. She
perceived clearly that things were not working out quite along
the lines she had designed-. She had read her Olive Schreiner and
George Egerton, and so forth, with all the want of perfect
comprehension of one who is still emotionally a girl. She knew
the thing to do was to have a flat and to go to the British
Museum and write leading articles for the daily p,tpers until
something better came along. If Bechamel (detestable person) had
kept his promises, instead of behaving with unspeakable
horridness, all would have been well.
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