MRS. BRETTALLY sat at the head of the long empty .sx table and looked at her husband .sx She had been looking at him for several minutes , waiting for him to finish his porridge before she spoke .sx Unconsciously she was thinking :sx " If only Hugh wouldn't read all through breakfast ; if only he didn't push his porridge up against the side of the plate , and then draw it down bit by bit into the milk ; if only I could buy a whole new store of table linen , really good Irish linen ( I shall have to mend that tear under the sugar basin ) ; if only it weren't raining , if only we were rich , if only I didn't have to plan the garden party , if only Hugh would stop eating for one minute , if only .sx .. " Her conscious mind thought :sx " Speak to Mary about cleaning the silver , ask after her grandmother , do the flowers round the font , polish the brasses .sx .. " Slowly the last retrenchments of porridge fell into the encroaching sea of milk , slowly the Reverend Mr. Brettally wiped his mouth , slowly reached out for the toast rack , and 'slowly , O so slowly , looked across at his wife .sx " Hugh , dear , " said Mrs. Brettally , " about the garden party .sx I think we should settle on the date as soon as possible , because of letting the other villages know .sx " Mr. Brettally buttered a square of toast with creamy precision , piled a golden pyramid of marmalade in the centre , and said , kindly :sx " Yes , my dear , yes .sx " Emily was a wonder , so efficient , so thoughtful .sx He would never be able to manage the work of the parish if it were not for Emily .sx He bit through the marmalade , through the butter , to the crisp warmth of the toast .sx " If you'll tell me which day you think best , I can write to them at once , " she said , in her gentle , tired voice .sx " Yes , yes .sx " Emily was a splendid organizer , but he wished she would not try and make him arrange things at breakfast , that sacrificial , almost sacred meal .sx He thought the breaking of fast after night's darkness as significant in its way as the dawning of light :sx there was a potential sermon in it , to be stored away tenderly towards the day when all his father's sermons should be used .sx up .sx ( A day far distant , for the Reverend Mr. Brettally senior had been as prolific in his discourses as he had been thoughtful in preserving them .sx ) Breakfast , with its libations of amber tea , its heaped gold marmalade , its milk and honey Emily had no right to disturb the ritual with her dates and settlements .sx " I'll let you know as soon as I have consulted my calendar , " he said , with dignity .sx She gave him some more tea , and found his place in the Church Times , which had inadvertently fallen over when she moved the milk-jug .sx Nothing but the roar of a bluebottle upbraiding the window panes disturbed their silence , so warm it was , so quiet , so peaceful .sx Mrs. Brettally rose suddenly and went out of the room .sx About half-past eleven she knocked at the study door .sx " Come in , " said her husband , in the fatherly tone which always meant that his mind was dandling its own pleasant topic , and would not be disturbed .sx " Come in , my dear .sx " " My dear , " he said , mournfully , keeping the engagement calendar carefully hidden by his elbow , " that is the very first date I can possibly contemplate holding it , absolutely the first .sx You know how busy .sx .. " He paused , full of gentle reproach .sx Then a thought came to him from his returning mind .sx " If November is too late for a garden party and I think you are right in that , my dear well , then , this year let us have a little change .sx Let it take the form of an indoor fete , with stalls and booths and er stalls .sx Our drawing-room is amply large enough for such a purpose , and it will give a new interest to your working parties .sx It seems to me a very good idea , a very good idea indeed .sx " He beamed at her , thanking his mind for the very good idea .sx And now , Emily , that's quite settled , and you need not stand there any longer in the doorway , looking so grey and troubled and small , because you disturb me , and no matter what I am doing , even if it be only standing at a desk with my elbow over the engagement calendar , I must never , never be disturbed .sx But Mrs. Brettally did not move .sx She looked up at him and said , with a breathy little catch in her voice :sx " O Hugh , an indoor party with stalls ?sx Must we really ?sx Think of the work for Mary and Mrs. Cloebuck !sx O Hugh , why not the garden party earlier ?sx " My dear , " lie said , " is it for us to shrink from a little extra trouble , a little personal inconvenience ?sx I venture to think that with added labour on our part , the work for Mary and Mrs. Cloebuck has no need to be augmented ; and are we to avoid that added labour if it is to give pleasure to others ?sx " He felt himself slipping into the secondly-thirdly tone of Sabbath noons , and concluded , abruptly :sx " In any case , Emily , I have told you it is quite impossible for me to undertake it before November .sx My parish cares are gradually becoming too much for " .sx Mrs. Brettally closed the door silently upon a well-rehearsed theme .sx Outside , her knees suddenly sagged , and she sat down on a wooden bench carved with her children's initials .sx She saw all kinds of things passing to and fro over the dark walls of the passage .sx Her drawing-room , her last lovely pride , turned upside down into a market hall , people's ugly feet scratching the oak floor , people's outdoor shoulders rubbing the white walls ; Mary collapsing and giving notice , Mrs. Cloebuck arriving quite drunk to serve the tea .sx New oil stoves to heat the hall , prams and .sx bicycles crowding out the porch .sx ( No , Hugh would have to open the stables for them , she would not have the porch spoilt too .sx ) Lady Joanna Lee walking round the stalls as though she were in a museum , bored and dutiful ; touching things with doeskin fingers , lifting up hot water bottle-covers and unsymmetrical tray-cloths ; putting them down again as she said :sx " My deaw Mrs. Brettally , what lawvely things you have heaw but we're all so posh now , aren't we ?sx " Spending perhaps half a crown , and forgetting to tip the boy who watched the cars .sx Hugh coming in occasionally to pat the heads of unknown children , beam down the length of the room until he was sure that everyone had seen him ; and then going away into the study , the sanctum sanctorum where no one could follow him , and where he could be most legitimately and blessedly alone ; the one thing in the world that Mrs. Brettally could never be .sx She heard people saying to her , " Your splendid husband , Mrs. Brettally , so indefatigable , how proud you must be of him ?sx " and something inside her seemed to snap , so that she wanted to cry out :sx " He isn't splendid , he isn't indefatigable , he's only clever enough to make you think so it's I who am the Reverend Mr. Brettally , I tell you , I and the dead old man who gives him his sermons !sx We do the work while he sits at his desk and admires himself .sx I'm the tired one , not he and it's my drawing-room you'll spoil with your presence , not his rich untouchable privacy !sx " Then her mind became normal again , and she only wanted to cry for penitence and shame .sx So , because she could not go into the study and sit with her head against his knees , holding him , asking forgiveness of him , she went instead to the kitchen and made an apple charlotte , because she loathed it and it was his favourite pudding .sx That evening she walked down to the village hall for the working party .sx Rooks were calling angrily over the elm tree tops , and the sun listened to them as it fell .sx But Mrs. Brettally had no time to listen .sx She walked as fast as she could , her hands thrust deep into her pockets of her waistless brown coat .sx Miss Bigall met her at the door .sx " Goodevening Mrs. Brettally , " she said , making one long word of it , as though life were too full and too busy to allow of such trivialities as taking breath .sx " I hope you're well the flannel we ordered from Witney hasn't arrived and Minnie Arliss won't be coming any more as her mother says it's a waste of time learning to make flannel petticoats when nobody wears them nowadays .sx " Her little eyes glinted .sx Mrs. Brettally looked plain and sapped with weariness .sx No one knows , thought Miss Bigall , what the Rector has to put up with such an uncomplaining , wonderful man as he is .sx They went into the hall .sx When Mrs. Brettally told the women that there were to be no more flannel petticoats for a time , their faces lifted up and then fell again .sx It was one thing to be rescued from the plain sewing of seams .sx but another to be led into making calendars and clothes-peg baskets .sx " Who'll buy 'em ?sx " asked Mrs. Becket of her neighbour , when the drawing-room-bazaar scheme was unfolded to them .sx " Who'll buy 'em , that's what I wants to know ?sx It won't .sx be us , 'cause we can make 'em fer oursils ( if so be we used 'em ) and it won't be the gentry , fer they're mostly as mean as cats , and it won't be visitors , cause none'll come .sx So who'll buy 'em ?sx " Nobody could answer her , indeed nobody listened to her , for they all kept up little running conversations of their own , which were very violent or very laudatory , but required no answer save irrelevant nods or shakings of a neighbour's head .sx When they had all gone , stumbling volubly into the soft country darkness , Mrs. Brettally stayed to look at their work before putting it away in the cupboard behind the gas-meter .sx " My God !sx " she thought , terrified at the ease with which the expletive came to her , " What utter rubbish !sx " And then she saw the heads in bonnets and the heads in cheap bright berets , the stubbly old fingers and the young red ones , the heavy breathing and whispered conversation that had gone to the making of them :sx and she picked up the sorry little pile in her arms , bending her face over it , and whispering as she locked it away :sx " If nobody else buys them , I shall spend Aunt Lucia's money and sell them to myself ; they sha'n't be left behind .sx " There were lights in cottage windows as she walked home ; in the darkness , country sounds and smells were intensified the shiver of leaves falling , the breath of nettles and late marigolds in a neglected garden , a fire of woody rubbish that winked sullenly through the trees , an owl crying , and a duck-pond lapping against the willows .sx Someone called out , " Good-night , Mrs. Brettally , " as she passed Zelah Row , and out of the Cat and Fiddle came a flood of light , with voices shouting :sx Funny , she thought , as she picked her way between the puddles in the Rectory .sx drive , that's what Hugh tells them every Sunday morning , only he dresses it in .sx different words .sx There's a good time coming .sx And now to God the Father , God the .sx Son , and God the Holy Ghost .sx Which do they really heed , she wondered , pushing .sx back the sprays of bramble that laced the shrubbery , St. Michael and All Angels .sx or the Cat and Fiddle ?sx Then her little tired body shut down on her questioning .sx mind , and she let herself in with her own key , which she always used to save .sx Mary answering the door .sx The Rector was already innocently asleep , his reverend body nothing but a mound beneath the the bedclothes .sx When his wife lay down beside him he awoke to murmur :sx " Close the window and God bless you , dear .sx " But she caught hold of his arm and held it fiercely to her , as though she were defending him from something , some hidden thing behind the easy darkness .sx He was not aware of it , having fallen again into a sound and perfect sleep .sx