It was still the same homely, green, wainscotted room, with high, narrow windows looking on to the terrace. There was the same low, old-fashioned sideboard and silk-lined chiffonnier; the same leathern couch and c.u.mbrous easy-chair; the same picture of "Virtue and Vice," smiling and glaring over the high wooden mantelpiece. Yes, the dear old room, as Mildred had fondly termed it in her happy three months" visit, was exactly the same; but Betha"s drawing-room was metamorphosed into fairyland.
All Arnold"s descriptions had not prepared her for the pleasant surprise. Behind the double folding-doors lay a perfect picture-room, its wide bay looking over the sunny hills, and a gla.s.s door opening on the beck gravel of the courtyard.
Outside, the long levels of green, with Cuyp-like touches of brown and red cattle, grouped together on the shady bank, tender hints of water gleaming through the trees, and the soft billowy ridges beyond; within, the faint purple and golden tints of the antique jars and vases, and shelves of rare porcelain, the rich hues of the china harmonising with the high-backed ebony chairs and cabinet, and the high, elaborately-finished mantelpiece, curiously inlaid with gla.s.s, and fitted up with tiny articles of _vertu_; the soft, blue hangings and Sevres table and other dainty finishes giving a rich tone of colour to the whole. Mr. Lambert was somewhat of a _dilettante_, and his accurate taste had effected many improvements in the vicarage, as well as having largely aided in the work nearest his heart--the restoration of his church.
The real frontage of the vicarage looked towards the garden terrace and Hillsbottom, the broad meadow that stretched out towards Hartley Fells, with Hartley Fold Farm and Hartley Castle in the distance; from its upper window the Nine Standards and Mallerstang, and to the south Wild-boar Fells, were plainly visible. But the usual mode of entrance was at the back. The gravelled sweep of courtyard, with its narrow gra.s.s bordering and flower-bed, communicated with the outhouses and stable-yard by means of a green door in the wall. The part of the vicarage appropriated to the servants" use was very old, dating, it is said, from the days of Henry VIII, and some of the old windows were still remaining. Mildred remembered the great stone kitchen and rambling cellarage and the cosy housekeeper"s room, where Betha had distilled her fragrant waters and tied up her preserves. As she pa.s.sed down the long pa.s.sage leading to the garden-door she could see old Nan, bare-armed and bustling, clattering across the stones in her country clogs, the sunny backyard distinctly visible. Some hens were clucking round a yellow pan; the goat bleated from the distance; the white tombstones gleamed in the morning sun; a scythe cut crisply through the wet gra.s.s; a fleet step on the gravel behind the little summer-house lingered and then turned.
"You are early, Aunt Milly--at least, for a Londoner, though we are early people here, as you will find. I hope you have slept well."
"Not very well; my thoughts were too busy. Is it too early to go over to the church yet, Richard?"
"The bells will not ring for another half-hour, if that is what you mean; but the key hangs in my father"s study. I can take you over if you wish."
"No, do not let me hinder you," glancing at the Greek lexicon he held in his hand.
"Oh, my time is not so valuable as that," he returned, good-humouredly.
"Of course you must see the restoration; it is my father"s great work, and he is justly proud of it. If you go over, Aunt Milly, I will be with you in a minute."
Mildred obeyed, and waited in the grand old porch till Richard made his appearance, panting, and slightly disturbed.
"It was mislaid, as usual. When you get used to us a little more, Aunt Milly, you will find that no one puts anything in its proper place. It used not to be so" he continued, in a suppressed voice; "but we have got into sad ways lately; and Olive is a wretched manager."
"She is so young, Richard. What can you expect from a girl of fifteen?"
"I have seen little women and little mothers at that age," he returned, with brusque quaintness. "Some girls, placed as she is, would be quite different; but Livy cares for nothing but books."
"She is clever then?"
"I suppose so," indifferently. "My father says so, and so did----(he paused, as though the word were difficult to utter)--"but--but she was always trying to make her more womanly. Don"t you think clever women are intolerable, Aunt Milly?"
"Not if they have wise heads and good hearts; but they need peculiar training. Oh, how solemn and beautiful!" as Richard at last unlocked the door; and they entered the vast empty church, with the morning sun shining on its long aisles and glorious arcades.
Richard"s querulous voice was hushed in tender reverence now, as he called Mildred to admire the highly-decorated roof and ma.s.sive pillars, and pointed out to her the different parts that had been restored.
"The nave is Early English, and was built in 1220; the north aisle is of the original width, and was restored in Perpendicular style; the window at the eastern end is Early English too. The south aisle was widened about 1500, and has been restored in the Perpendicular; and the transepts are Early English, in which style the chancel also has been rebuilt. Nothing of the original remains except the Sedilia, probably late Early English, or perhaps the period sometimes called Wavy, or Decorated."
"You know it all by heart, Richard. How grand those arches are; the church itself is almost cathedral-like in its vast size."
"We are very fond of it," he returned, gravely. "Do you recollect this chapel? It is called the Musgrave Chapel. One of these tombs belonged to Sir Thomas Musgrave, who is said to have killed the last wild boar seen in these parts, about the time of Edward III."
"Ah! I remember hearing that. You are a capital guide, Richard."
"Since my father has been ill, I have always taken strangers over the church, and so one must be acquainted with the details. This is the Wharton Chapel, Aunt Milly; and here is the tomb of Lord Thomas Wharton and his two wives; it was built as a mortuary chapel, in the reign of Elizabeth, so my father says. Ah! there is the bell, and I must go into the vestry and see if my father be ready."
"You have not got a surpliced choir yet, Richard?"
He shook his head.
"We have to deal with northern prejudices; you have no idea how narrow and bigoted some minds can be. I could tell you of a parish, not thirty miles from here, where a sprig of holly in the church at Christmas would breed a riot."
"Impossible, Richard!"
"You should hear some of the Squire"s stories about twenty years ago; these are enlightened times compared to them. We are getting on tolerably well, and can afford to wait; our daily services are badly attended. There is the vicarage pew, Aunt Milly; I must go now."
Only nineteen--Richard"s mannishness was absolutely striking; how wise and sensible he seemed, and yet what underlying bitterness there was in his words as he spoke of Olive. "His heart is sore, poor lad, with missing his mother," thought Mildred, as she watched the athletic figure, rather strong than graceful, cross the broad chancel; and then, as she sat admiring the n.o.ble pulpit of Shap granite and Syenetic marble, the vicarage pew began slowly to fill, and two or three people took their places.
Mildred stole a glance at her nieces: Olive looked heavy-eyed and absent; and Chriss more untidy than she had been the previous night.
When service had begun she nudged her aunt twice, once to say Dr. Heriot was not there, and next that Roy and Polly had come in late, and were hiding behind the last pillar. She would have said more, but Richard frowned her into silence. It was rather a dreary service; there was no music, and the responses, with the exception of Richard"s, were inaudible in the vast building; but Mildred thought it restful, though she grieved to see that her brother"s worn face looked thinner and sadder in the morning light, and his tall figure more bowed and feeble.
He waited for her in the porch, where she lingered behind the others, and greeted her with his old smile; and then he took Richard"s arm.
"We have a poor congregation you see, Mildred; even Heriot was not there."
"Is he usually?" she asked, somewhat quickly.
"I have never known him miss, unless some bad case has kept him up at night. He joined us reluctantly at first, and more to please us than himself; but he has grown into believing there is no fitter manner of beginning the day; his example has infected two or three others, but I am afraid we rarely number over a dozen. We do a little better at six o"clock."
"It must be very disheartening to you, Arnold."
"I do not permit myself to feel so; if the people will not come, at least they do not lack invitation--twice a day the bells ring out their reproachful call. I wish Christians were half as devout as Mahometans."
"Mrs. Sadler calls it new-fangled nonsense, and says she has not time to be always in church," interrupted Chrissy, in her self-sufficient treble.
"My little Chriss, it is not good to repeat people"s words. Mrs. Sadler has small means and a large family, and the way she brings them up is highly creditable." But his gentle reproof fell unheeded.
"But she need not have told Miss Martingale that she knew you were a Ritualist at heart, and that the daily services were unnecessary innovations," returned Chrissy, stammering slightly over the long words.
"Now, Contradiction, no one asked for this valuable piece of information," exclaimed Roy, with a warning pull at the rough tawny mane; "little girls like you ought not to meddle in parish matters. You see Gregory has been steadily at work this morning, father," pointing to the long swathes of cut gra.s.s under the trees; "the churchyard will be a credit to us yet."
But Roy"s good-natured artifice to turn his father"s thoughts into a pleasanter channel failed to lift the cloud that Chrissy"s unfortunate speech had raised.
"Innovations! new-fangled ideas!" he muttered, in a grieved voice, "simple obedience--that I dare not, on the peril of a bad conscience, withhold, to the rules of the Church, to the loving precept that bids me gather her children into morning and evening prayer."
"Contradiction, you deserve half-a-dozen pinches for this," whispered Roy; "you have set him off on an old grievance."
"Never sacrifice principles, Cardie, when you are in my position,"
continued Mr. Lambert. "If I had listened to opposing voices, our bells would have kept silence from one Sunday to another. Ah, Milly! I often ask myself, "Can these dry bones live?" The husks and tares that choke the good seed in these narrow minds that listen to me Sunday after Sunday would test the patience of any faithful preacher."
"Aunt Milly looks tired, and would be glad of her breakfast," interposed Richard.
Mildred thanked him silently with her eyes; she knew her brother sufficiently of old to dread the long vague self-argument that would have detained them for another half-hour in the porch had not Richard"s dexterous hint proved effectual. Mildred learnt a great deal of the habits of the family during the hour that followed; the quiet watchful eyes made their own observation--and though she said little, nothing escaped her tender scrutiny. She saw her brother would have eaten nothing but for the half-laughing, half-coaxing attentions of Roy, who sat next him. Roy prepared his egg, and b.u.t.tered his toast, and placed the cresses daintily on his plate, unperceived by Mr. Lambert, who was opening his letters and glancing over his papers.
When he had finished--and his appet.i.te was very small--he pushed away his plate, and sat looking over the fells, evidently lost in thought.
But his children, as though accustomed to his silence, took no further notice of him, but carried on the conversation among themselves, only dropping their voices when a heavier sigh than usual broke upon their ears. The table was spread with a superabundance of viands that surprised Mildred; but the cloth was not over clean, and was stained with coffee in several places. Mildred fancied that it was to obviate such a catastrophe for the future that Richard sat near the urn. A German grammar lay behind the cups and saucers, and Olive munched her bread and b.u.t.ter very ungracefully over it, only raising her head when querulous or reproachful demands for coffee roused her reluctant attention, and it evidently needed Richard"s watchfulness that the cups were not returned unsweetened to their owner.
"There, you have done it again," Mildred heard him say in a low voice.
"The second clean cloth this week disfigured with these unsightly brown patches."