Free i 69ef9ff463a71164 by Unknown

. the 3 play. I told her that of course you hadn't understood,!
    and if she would call up during her dinner hour you would let her have the music, she's quite willing to work to your choice. Oh, my dear, don't look so disappointed. "
    "But I wanted to play for the children, Donald, I've been looking forward to it."
    A flatness had come upon her day. Playing for the children at the Christmas concert and Nativity play was to constitute her first real social engagement as the vicar's wife and she had given to it quite a lot of thought. It was actually Donald himself who had suggested she should do this. There were not more than fifteen children from the scattered community who attended Sunday school and they offered material that had no artistic claim, but this had in no way deterred her in fact it had set her a challenge. The Christmas concert and Nativity play was going to be the best ever heard or seen in the village. She would show them that although she was very young to be the parson's wife she was capable, very capable.
    Donald was patting her cheek and saying quietly, "I've got an idea to show off your talents on a much larger scale ... an evening concert, you could let yourself rip at that. What do you say?"
    At this moment she was too disappointed to be other than herself, so the only reply she made to this solace was with her eyebrows. She gave them an upward lift.
    "Oh, my dear, come along." There was the slightest edge to his voice now.
    "What is there in playing for children; much better to make your debut at a proper concert. One of the Miss Parleys plays the 'cello, and Blenkinsop, although you mightn't credit it, is no mean hand with the violin."
    "All right."
    "Come on then, smile. If your Aunt Aggie sees you like this she'll swear I'm starting to beat you and she'll say, " I knew it. I was right. " She gave him a playful push and he squeezed her hand before going out on to the terrace towards his study and Miss Shawcross.
    Blast Miss Shawcross. Grace gave no girlish sign of guilt on this thought. She was getting a little fed up with Miss Shawcross. This wasn't the first time during her short sojourn in the village that her opinion had had to be waived in favour of that of Miss Shawcross.
    There had been the business of the new literary group and its procedure. Miss Shawcross's suggestions had been followed because Miss Shawcross did such an amount of work for the church and it was only fair to give her a little say in this new venture. There had also been the dressing of the altar. The brass vases Grace considered looked too heavy when filled with flowers and she had substituted two silver ones, but the week after their arrival they had been relegated to the dim corners of the altar, and the brass ones were back dominating the scene.
    "Let the matter be," Donald had said, 'it's not worth a fracas. She has done the altar for years, in fact since she was a young girl; until now she has almost come to think that it belongs to her. " And then he had added, " The church means so much to her, you'll have to remember that, my dear. "
    And now the play Miss Shawcross had won again.
    This latter thought came to Grace in the form of a shock. She was made aware that she was in the midst of a contest, a contest which required the use of guile, and she could see quite plainly that if she was even to hold her own she would have to avail herself of this guile. The picture presented looked rather nasty, and she turned from the window and shook her head as if trying to throw the whole business off. Miss Shawcross was an old maid, a stuffy, prim old maid. She would tell Aunt Aggie on the quiet about Miss Shawcross and they would have a laugh. Yes, that was the best way to deal with Miss Shawcross, laugh at her.
    Grace was bursting with pride and happiness. Aunt Aggie liked the house, she had thoroughly enjoyed her lunch, and, what was more oh more important than anything else she seemed to be getting to like Donald.
    Donald had