An Open Verdict by Mary Elizabeth Braddon

BY slow degrees Beatrix arrived at an understanding of her position. People in Little Yafford believed her guilty of her father's murder. The idea was horrible, and she would have fled, but pride came to her rescue, and she stayed, defying all the slanderous tongues and cold cruel eyes in the village, from the judicial discourse and pale gray orbs of Miss Coyle, to the lively comments and little red-brown rat-like optics of Mr. Tudway. She met cold looks and averted heads at the church door, where she had been wont to find herself saluted with nods and becks, and a world of sympathy and friendliness. Now and then she encountered a startling glance, as of wonder that she should dare to enter the church. Even Mrs. Dulcimer was cold, and seemed embarrassed by Beatrix's presence, though affecting all the old cordiality. But the Vicar was full of kindness, and tried to make up for everybody else's cruelty. His charity was not of the officious kind which forces itself upon people who do not want it, but it was that stronger and wider charity which is inexhaustible for those who do. He had let Beatrix come and go as she pleased hitherto, and had never pressed her to remain. Now he took her under his wing, brought her from the Water House to the Vicarage on his arm, and let the whole village see that he was not ashamed of his ward.

‘Mr. Dulcimer always cared too much for the fleshpots of Egypt,' said Mrs. Coyle. ‘Miss Harefield's money blinds him to her character. A sad thing to see a minister of the gospel so devoted to worldly things.'