‘Let me tell you,’ went on the nun severely, ‘it would have been better for you if you had taken the veil. “Hainault, Celeste’s friend. There is no Heaven for your mother. ” Even in the glamour of Miss Brett’s assurance it seemed to Ann Veronica that this was, after all, no more than the gospel of Miss Miniver with a new set of resonances. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon. She had thought of the lawyer who conducted the Remenham business, but she knew not where to find him.
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