'Somebody's at the door!' said a little treble girl.
'Thought I heard a knock before!' said the relieved choir.
The latch was lifted, and a man asked from the darkness, 'Is Mr.
Torkingham here?' 'Yes, Mills. What do you want?' It was the parson's man.
'Oh, if you please,' said Mills, showing an advanced margin of himself
round the door, 'Lady Constantine wants to see you very particular, sir,
and could you call on her after dinner, if you ben't engaged with poor
fokes? She's just had a letter,--so they say,--and it's about that, I
believe.' Finding, on looking at his watch, that it was necessary to start at once
if he meant to see her that night, the parson cut short the practising,
and, naming another night for meeting, he withdrew. All the singers
assisted him on to his cob, and watched him till he disappeared over the
edge of the Bottom.