Sunday, March 4


Freesias!' breathed Dimity with rapture, thinking how dreadfully extravagant dear Charles had been, and yet how delicious it was to have such treasures brought to her. 'How very, very kind, Charles. They are easily our favorite flowers.'

The rector murmured politely while Dimity unwrapped them. Their fragrance mingled with the faint smell of wood smoke that lingered in the room and the rector thought, yet again, how warm and full of life this small room was. Ella's book lay face downward on the arm of a chair, her spectacles lodged across it. Dimity's knitting had been hastily put aside when she answered the door, and decorated a low table near the fire. The clock ticked merrily, the fire whispered and crackled, the cat purred upon the window sill, sitting four-square and smug after its midday meal.

A feeling of great peace descended upon the rector despite the preoccupations of the errand in hand. Could he ever hope, he wondered, to have such comfort in his own home?"

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