Laura looked up aghast.

'Why, it is the one thing that enables the few rational beings hereabouts
to keep alive from Saturday to Monday!'

'He says all the town flock to the music and don't come to the service,
and that the pieces played are profane, or mundane, or inane, or
something--not what ought to be played on Sunday. Of course 'tis
Lautmann who settles those things.'

Lautmann was the bandmaster.

The barrack-green on Sunday afternoons had, indeed, become the promenade
of a great many townspeople cheerfully inclined, many even of those who
attended in the morning at Mr. Sainway's service; and little boys who
ought to have been listening to the curate's afternoon lecture were too
often seen rolling upon the grass and making faces behind the more
dignified listeners.

Laura heard no more about the matter, however, for two or three weeks,
when suddenly remembering it she asked her husband if any further
objections had been raised.

'O--Mr. Sainway. I forgot to tell you. I've made his acquaintance. He
is not a bad sort of man.'

Laura asked if either Maumbry or some others of the officers did not give
the presumptuous curate a good setting down for his interference.