Then the carriage stopped before the lych-gate, through which the
fresh-faced school children were trooping; and while the bell clanged
its last monotonous summons, we walked up between the village graves to
the old church porch that older yews overshadow, where the village lads
were loitering, as Sunday after Sunday their sleeping forefathers had
loitered before them.

We worshipped that morning in a magnificent pew to one side of the
chancel, and quite as large, from which we enjoyed a full view of clergy
and congregation. The former consisted of the Canon, Mr. Jackson,
clergyman of the parish, and a young man I had not seen before. Not a
large number had mustered to hear the Canon; the front seats were well
filled by men and women in goodly apparel, but in the pews behind and in
the side aisles there was a mere sprinkling of worshippers in the Sunday
dress of country labourers. Our supplicaitions were offered with as
little ritualistic pageantry as Mrs. Mostyn herself could have desired,
though the choir probably sang oftener and better than she would have
approved. In spite of their efforts it was as uninspiring a service as I
have ever taken part in. This was not due, as might be suspected, to
Atherley's presence, for his demeanour was irreproachable. His little
sons, delighted at having him with them, carefully found his places for
him in prayer and hymnbook, and kept watch that he did not lose them
afterwards, so that he perforce assumed a really edifying degree of
attention. Nor, indeed, did the rest of the congregation err in the
direction of restlessness or wandering looks, but rather in the opposite
extreme, insomuch that during the litany, when we were no longer
supported by music, and had, most of us, assumed attitudes favourable
to repose, we appeared one and all to succumb to it, especially towards
the close, when, from the body of the church at least, only the aged