"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. It is quite new - everything is new
here - the church itself was only built a few years ago. This
window is its chief glory: it was done by a good artist - he
has done some of the most admired windows of recent years; and
the centre figure is supposed to be a portrait of our generous
patroness. At all events she sat for it to him. You have
probably heard of Lady Y - ?"
"What!" I exclaimed. "Lady Y - : that funny old woman!"
"No - middle-aged," he corrected, a little frigidly and perhaps
a little mockingly at the same time.
"Very well, middle-aged if you like; I don't know her
personally. One hears about her; but I did not know she had a
place in these parts."
"She owns most of this parish and has done so much for us that
we can very well look leniently on a little weakness - her wish
that the future inhabitants of the place shall not remember her
as a middle-aged woman not remarkable for good looks - 'funny,'
as you just now said."
He was wonderfully candid, I thought.