A Quiet Sunday
'O day most calm, most bright,
The fruit of this, the next world's bud.
* * * *
The week were dark, but for thy light,
Thy torch doth show the way.'--_G. Herbert._
The sisters, accompanied by Captain Knox, made quite a sensation in the
little village church when they entered it on that Sunday morning. The
old sexton fussed about as if all the seats were occupied; but
eventually they were shown into one just beside the pulpit stairs.
Miss Miller glared at them through her green spectacles, and Elfie felt
miserably conscious that she had recognised them. There were a few
other gentle-people in the church besides themselves, and a very fair
sprinkling of farmers and villagers. The service was simple and
hearty; the village schoolmaster played the organ, and Mr. Miller, a
fine-looking, grey-headed man, delighted Agatha at least, by his
earnest, faithful preaching. Coming out into the churchyard, Agatha
was stopped by Miss Miller hastening up to her. She was dressed in
black silk; but her bonnet, a wonderful erection of lace and ribbon,
was quite awry, and she seemed agitated. She spoke jerkily, and Agatha
had difficulty in preserving her usual equanimity of mind.
'Excuse me, but I believe you have taken Mr. Tom Lester's house--a most
unsatisfactory parishioner he is, and not at all what he should be. I
am hoping to call on you this week. Who is the gentleman? your
brother? No? A great pity, then, for a houseful of women is only a
hot-bed for scandal and gossip. We have too many women by far in this
neighbourhood--a bachelor parson always draws them. Have you any
acquaintances in the neighbourhood? Ah, so much the better. There is
service at half-past six this evening; I hope you will be regular
attendants. You live in a godless house; take care that the atmosphere
does not affect you. Mr. Tom Lester never entered the House of God
after I spoke to him about the irreverence of his yawns during the
sermon! Good-bye, and I hope you will prove pleasant neighbours. That
remains to be seen!'
She darted away as quickly as she came; and Elfie, who was walking with
Agatha, gave one of her merry, rippling laughs.
'Isn't she an odd character? We shall have a good deal of fun out of
her, I am sure! I am thankful she did not recognise me, or at least
had the good taste not to appear as if she did.'
'I wonder,' said Agatha thoughtfully, 'if that old man who sat behind
Miss Miller was our landlord's brother.'
'Oh, he was much too nice-looking; I imagine the other Mr. Lester is an
awful old curmudgeon. He has got his property unjustly, I
consider--the eldest son ought to have it.'
'Cousin James is not an old curmudgeon,' put in Gwen, stepping back to
join in the conversation; 'supplanters and usurpers generally carry all
the world before them, "like green bay trees," as the Psalmist says. I
am sure our Jacob is most prepossessing in manner and appearance, like
his namesake. History repeats itself!'
'Don't be bitter after church,' said Agatha, in her quiet voice.
Gwen laughed. 'I'm not bitter. I feel I can snap my fingers at him
now! Hugh says he saw him in town the other day, and he said with his
pleasant smile, "When we are quite settled at Dane Hall my wife will
ask the girls down. They will be glad of the change, I expect, after
their seclusion in the country!" Wasn't it truly kind and considerate
of him?'
That first Sunday in the country was a very pleasant one to the
sisters, Clare went off for a long walk with Hugh in the afternoon;
Agatha settled herself in a wicker chair with her books in the sunny
verandah overlooking the meadows and distant pine woods; and Gwen and
Elfie wandered off across the fields, enjoying the sweet spring air,
and noting all the spring flowers peeping out of the hedgerows.
'Yes, I'm thankful we are out of town,' said Gwen emphatically,
standing up and drawing in long breaths of content and satisfaction.
'If I were starving, I would rather be in the country, because one can
be clean. It's the oppression in the atmosphere that is so sickening
in London, and never being able to get away from people!'
'This is an ideal Sunday,' said Elfie, turning her radiant face upwards
and watching a lark soaring out of sight; 'I don't think I shall miss
the concerts in town, with such music as this around one!'
Then after a pause she said, 'I suppose becoming lazy and
self-indulgent is a danger in the country.'
'We are not rich enough for that,' responded Gwen with a short laugh;
'at least, I know I have my work cut out for me.'
'I wasn't meaning actual daily duties, but our responsibilities
regarding others,' said Elfie, a little shyly.
Gwen shrugged her shoulders. 'I suppose you feel you ought to be in
Sunday school this afternoon, is that it? I dare say Miss Miller will
give you some parish work, if you ask her. Are you going to follow in
Agatha's steps? I saw her from my bedroom window this morning stop a
carter going by from the farm, and hand him some tracts.'
Elfie laughed. 'She's a good old thing; she never says anything about
her good deeds, but I know she will soon be fast friends with all the
farm labourers who pass up and down. You see if next week she doesn't
know all their names and family histories!'
They were crossing a fresh meadow now, and as they came up to a stile,
they saw in the next field a most picturesque little cottage standing
in the midst of a mass of apple blossom. It was a low white-washed
building, with thatched roof and latticed windows, green shutters
opening back upon the wall.
The girls went up, and leaning against the gate, looked at it
admiringly; then started at the sight of two oldish women sitting
opposite one another in the old-fashioned porch. They were dressed
exactly alike, two lilac sun-bonnets hiding their faces; their figures
were thin and angular, and each had a book in her lap. Their dark-blue
serge gowns, white aprons, and little red worsted shawls over their
shoulders, were duplicates one of the other.
'It's like a book,' whispered Elfie. 'Do let us speak to them. We can
ask them where the footpath leads to!'
Gwen opened the gate, and accordingly put the question.
Both women started to their feet, and one came forward.
'Where does this footpath lead to? Why, to our cottage, and no
further, miss.'
She spoke respectfully, though rather shortly.
'I am afraid we have trespassed,' said Elfie, in her sweet, bright
tone; 'but we are strangers here, and are trying to find our way about.
What a lovely little cottage you have!'
'It's a tidy little place,' the woman responded, with an approving nod.
'Perhaps you'd like to come in and sit for a bit. Patty and me don't
care for Sunday visitin', but you'll be the ladies from Jasmine
Cottage, I reckon?'
'Yes,' said Gwen, 'we will come in for a minute before we go back.'
They followed her into a spotlessly clean and tidy kitchen. Patty drew
forward two chairs, and began to speak rather breathlessly. 'My sister
and me saw you in church to-day. We said you were the new family; and
Deb is very good at upholsterin' and alterin' carpets, and doin' plain
needlework, and we thought maybe you'd be wantin' help that way, for
Deb goes to work by the day at most of the big houses round!'
'Tis the Lord's Day,' said Deb, giving her sister a sharp nudge with
her elbow; 'we'll not be talking business now. Sit down, ladies.'
Gwen and Elfie exchanged amused glances. Then Gwen said,--
'Well, we won't transact business now; but we want a workwoman badly,
and if you will come to the cottage tomorrow my sister will show you
any amount of carpets that need refitting. But if I had a cottage like
this, away from all sound and sight of any human beings, I think I
wouldn't trouble to go out carpet-making!'
'You would if you wanted to keep your cottage,' said Deb brusquely.
Then, taking off her sun-bonnet and smoothing down her grey hair, she
sat down on an old oak settle beside the little cheery blazing fire,
and grasping her angular knees with each hand, she looked at Given a
little defiantly.
'Eight and forty year come next Christmas have Patty and I lived
together here, and never a year have we been behind our rent since
father died; but it have been done by downright hard labour. And if
you and your people want new-laid eggs, or fresh spring chickens, or
honey from the comb, why, 'tis Patty that will supply you, as also milk
and butter from an Alderney cow.'
''Tis Sunday!' ejaculated Patty, as she stood by the fire with arms
akimbo; and at this retort Gwen and Elfie laughed outright.
'And do you ever go away from home?' asked Gwen curiously, after a
slight pause, in which Deb looked very discomposed.
'We are continually away,' said Deb, looking up and speaking very
shortly. 'I know every gentry's house in the neighbourhood, not to
speak of Brambleton, where Patty goes reg'lar once a week to market.
But as to sleepin' away, that we never mean to do till we be taken to
our last restin'-place!'
'And are you great readers? I am afraid we disturbed you from your
books when we came in.'
Patty took up her book, which was on the window-ledge. ''Tis Bunyan's
book, _The Pilgrim's Progress_. Father give Deb and me a copy each
when we were fifteen years old, and we have read it every Sunday
afternoon since. We don't always get very far, for 'tis a sleepy time
in the afternoon, but a page or two is always edifyin' and improvin' to
the soul!'
'It's a lovely book!' said Elfie enthusiastically; 'you must know it
nearly by heart.'
The sisters smiled at each other.
'We do that,' said Deb.
'I suppose you have visitors from the village here occasionally?' asked
Gwen.
Deb frowned grimly, then looked her questioner straight in the face,
with hard-set lines about her mouth, as she replied,--
'We keeps ourselves to ourselves, miss. You are both young ladies, and
haven't lived long enough to have it cast up in your teeth that you're
not wed; but there be those who scorn us for choosin' to keep by each
other, and not do as most young maids do. Patty and me have had our
chances, but Patty's lad couldn't take us both, and 'twas the same with
my lad, and neither of us could bear to be away from the other. We've
always grown together, Patty and me--we came into the world together,
and we pray the Lord He'll take us out in the same manner; and we know
each other's ways, and when we don't agree, there's no one else to
interfere.'
'Do you ever disagree?' asked Elfie, smiling.
Patty nodded her head solemnly.
'Ay, we ain't quite the same make through and through,' she said, in
her little breathless way, 'and words run high at times. I keep to my
opinions, and Deb keeps to hers; and if we have an extra hard dispute
on, we know how to settle it!'
'How? with fists?' asked Gwen, looking from one hard-featured woman to
the other with the greatest interest.
Deb looked up grimly, and said, as she raised her hand in emphasis,--
'Patty have never had a blow from me since we were children, nor I from
her. When our tongues run away with us, one locks the t'other out, and
when we get cool again the door is opened!'
'I would rather be inside than outside on a winter's day,' said Gwen,
laughing heartily. 'Now come, Elfie, we must be off. I shall pay you
another visit before long, to learn about bee-keeping. I see your
hives are just like ours, and we know nothing about such things!'
'And I'll be very glad to tell you,' said Patty eagerly, 'for I've
tended bees since I were a child, and know all their tricks, and as to
their swarmings.'
''Tis the Lord's Day,' put in Deb grimly, and Gwen and Elfie promptly
took their leave.
'Aren't they old dears?' said Elfie enthusiastically; 'they seem to
live in quite another world. Imagine reading _The Pilgrim's Progress_
all your life, and no other book beside the Bible! Do they ever see a
newspaper, I wonder?'
'It isn't often one meets such a couple; we shall get a good deal of
entertainment out of them, I expect. What an awful existence! Is it
what we shall come to years hence, I wonder? And yet I, for one, am
quite certain that will not be my lot.'
'What?' inquired Elfie, 'the old maid's existence, do you mean, or the
little secluded country cottage?'
'Neither. I have my plans and purposes; and not all Jacob's
machinations and schemings will frustrate them.'
'What are they?' inquired Elfie.
'Ah, well, I had best not say. I mean to see you all thoroughly
comfortable and settled here, and then break them to you. I have
plenty of resources and interests to take up my time, so am in no
hurry.'
'You always were a wonderful one for plans! Let me guess. You are
going to start a magazine, and be the editor of it!'
'No, thank you. Magazines are as plentiful as pins just now; they
appear and disappear like sky-rockets!'
'Is it a way of earning money?'
'No, of spending it; but I am not going to tell you. I generally find
I can carry out my plans successfully, if I don't take too many people
into my confidence!'
Elfie was silent for a few minutes; then she said, with a little sigh,
'I wonder how old Nannie is getting on?'
'What has put her into your head?'
'The verses she gave us. Don't you remember?'
'I'm sure I forget what mine was.'
'"Commit thy way unto the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring
it to pass,"' said Elfie softly.
'Nannie never could stand my independence. I believe she thought we
ought not to have taken this cottage without first having prayer about
it!'
'Agatha did pray about it,' said Elfie very quietly.
'Well, I didn't, and I was the one to find it, and it has turned out
quite a success. I never can understand such narrow views of life as
Agatha takes. Prayer is all very well in church, or in great crises,
but in everyday life I think it is perfectly unnatural and unnecessary!'
Elfie did not answer. She felt too inexperienced to argue the matter
out with Gwen, though she totally disagreed with her.
They reached home, and found Clare and Captain Knox before them.
Afternoon tea was had in the drawing-room, and afterwards, before
evening church, Elfie brought her violin out, and Agatha went to the
piano, whilst the others gathered round and sang some hymns with them.
The evening closed quietly and peacefully; and as Captain Knox said
good-night to his betrothed, he added, 'I am so glad I have seen you
all here. I shall picture your quiet Sundays when I am in the wilds of
Africa, and it will do me good!'