The Maidens of Walsingham
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Early in June a wedding was celebrated at Walsingham: Miss Miriam Wyby and young Thomas Neilly were married. It cannot be said that the young people were particularly happy, but as there were few young people in the village, and half the population consisted of children, the lads and maidens had no choice but to look for a match according to their age, and in the long years of such marriages all the villagers were related to each other in one way or another. The Glowfords had many relatives too, for the parson's late wife had been one of the Walsinghams, so that some of the parishioners were secretly terribly proud of their kinship with the parson himself and his beautiful, clever daughters. The wedding was modest, but the grateful peasants did not forget to invite Mr. Morris and Mr. Pilough to it, thus commending their services to the community. Mr. Morris was unable to attend the wedding, but he arrived in time for the feast and brought with him a magnificent treat from Rivershold, which delighted everyone, and Mr. Pilough, who decided that such an exotic wedding in such a remote village was not to be missed, attended the wedding from its very beginning (giving the young couple a pair of good knives from the Rivershold kitchen and as many forks and spoons, but not silver ones, but those used by the servants, which was still a joy to the young family) to its conclusion, when the villagers had gone home.
Mr. Morris sat beside his pet (as he had named her), Cassandra Glowford, and was genuinely amused by her spontaneity and childish prattle, as well as amusing her and telling her of his adventures in Europe and how he had met his wife. The girl had little idea what he was talking about, but the names of some of the towns amused her so much that she immediately burst into an infectious, ringing laugh.
Mr. Pilough was mostly silent, enjoying the unpretentious country dishes (alcohol was absent) and contemplating the rough but hearty beauty of the village girls, who paid no attention to him as they were busy gossiping and wondering which of them would marry next after Miriam.
Christine chatted passionately with her neighbour, forgetting her bad mood for a while, but feeling the amorous gaze of poor John Tiley. And the village gossips had already discussed it and decided that the next to walk down the aisle would be the middle Glowford and "John, who is madly in love with her."
Catherine had been a little sad all day: she was worried that she and the congregation would miss vespers today, which would be a great sin.
Chapter 9
On his return from Rivershold to London, Viscount Wilworth left it the same day: business called him to Europe, where he remained until July, and, tired, exhausted by the sea journey to England, he returned to his hometown, to his home. When the Viscount had slept and cleaned himself up, he decided not to waste time and to get on with the business that had accumulated during his absence. The very next morning, on entering his study, the lord saw a stack of letters and telegrams lying on the desk, sent by Mr. Morris. The Viscount had forgotten Walsingham and poor Cassie while travelling in Europe, surrounded by new people, cares, and pretty ladies of the court, but as he looked at Mr. Morris's letters he smiled, and was overcome with a desire to know what had happened at Walsingham during his absence. The Viscount settled himself in his broad armchair and read letter after letter, strictly in chronological order: Mr. Morris had a good, cheerful style, and it was a most entertaining and informative matter to read his description of the events that had taken place in the village. The Viscount was particularly interested in Miss Cassandra's health. Soon, having dealt with the letters, he turned to the telegrams, familiarising himself with them in chronological order.
The first telegram read: "Patient is much better today so I have allowed her to get out of bed and take a little walk in the garden."
Later, "Miss Cassandra is perfectly well and runs about like a naughty child. Her complexion is fine."
Later, "It is raining. The ward is feeling well. The Glowford house flooded, and the family are sleeping in a neighbour's hayloft. I am very sorry for the girls."
Here the viscount sighed regretfully, and a wave of sincere sympathy for the poor Glowfords overwhelmed his heart.
Later, "The rain continues unabated, but none of the Glowfords are ill. The family continues to sleep in the hayloft."
"We must help them at once, we must do something for them! – The Viscount decided, horrified at the conditions in which the parson, Miss Catherine, Miss Christine, and the lovely Cassie found themselves. – And this must be the way it always is when it rains at Walsingham, but the stubborn parson won't accept any help! He would think of his daughters!"
The Viscount was extremely unhappy at this distressing situation of the Glowfords, and felt much distress at the thought of Cassie, who required careful care and warmth, getting cold at night, sleeping on a stiff haystack. But Lord Wilworth found the strength to continue reading the telegrams.
Later: 'Miss Cassandra has had her fill of green apples today and her stomach is cramping. The local boys inform me that she and Cassie raided the baker's apple trees."
Later: "Miss Cassie is full of vigour and health."
Later, "A wedding is being celebrated in the village today. Mr. Pilough and I have been kindly invited to the celebration. I am looking forward to socialising with the lovely pet. I leave for London tomorrow morning."
Satisfied with the news that Cassie was well, Viscount Wilworth decided to visit his friend the Count of Draymore to enquire about the progress of the restoration of the church at Walsingham. He collected a packet of letters from Mr. Morris to show his friend the plight of his peasants (the Viscount suspected that the Count had forgotten all about them), got into a carriage and set off for the west end of London, where the Earl's large mansion was situated. The Viscount found his friend bored and in a bad mood: he had recently lost a decent sum of money at the races.
– It is interesting how you are concerned with the fate of this village," said the Count of Draymore ironically, after the Viscount had informed him of the purpose of his unexpected visit.
– I don't understand your indifference to the fate of these poor people," said the Viscount, and handed him Dr Morris's letters. – Here, read them.
– What are these? – The Count was surprised, taking the papers.
– Mr. Morris's letters. Read them, Colin, it will do you good to know what is going on in your property.
The Count grinned, hurt by his friend's reproach: he had indeed forgotten his promises to the parson and his parishioners, and had confined himself to the rebuilding of the church. The life of the capital quickly removed from his mind thoughts of blessing his peasants and the beautiful Christine: a series of receptions and balls at court decorated his life, and, except for pleasure and entertainment, the Count thought of nothing, so he did not even open the envelopes with letters from Mr. Pilough, who regularly sent him reports on the work done in the church. But, to respect his friend, the Count ran his eyes over Mr. Morris's letters, but he read inattentively, through a line, but when he saw the name of the beautiful Christine Glowford, he began to read that part of the letter thoughtfully.