Her pale face wore a sweet and placid
expression, and her eyes of a pure forget-me-not blue were
looking straight into mine. As I stood there the music, or
noise, ceased and a very profound silence followed--not a
giggle, not a whisper from the outrageous young barbarians,
and not a sound of the organist or of anyone speaking to them.
Presently I became conscious of some person standing almost
but not quite abreast of me, and turning sharply I found a
clergyman at my side. He was the vicar, the person who had
been letting himself go on the organ; a slight man with a
handsome, pale, ascetic face, clean-shaven, very dark-eyed,
looking more like an Italian monk or priest than an English
clergyman. But although rigidly ecclesiastic in his
appearance and dress, there was something curiously engaging
in him, along with a subtle look which it was not easy to
fathom. There was a light in his dark eyes which reminded me
of a flame seen through a smoked glass or a thin black veil,
and a slight restless movement about the corners of his mouth
as if a smile was just on the point of breaking out. But it
never quite came; he kept his gravity even when he said things
which would have gone very well with a smile.
"I see," he spoke, and his penetrating musical voice had, too,
like his eyes and mouth, an expression of mystery in it, "that
you are admiring our beautiful west window, especially the
figure in the centre.
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