She also began to take interest in the poor people. By Mrs. Westons request, Mr. Devereux had pointed out the families which were most in need of assistance, and Alethea made it her business to find out the best way of helping them. She visited the village school with Lilias, and when requested by her and by the Rector to give her aid in teaching, she did not like to refuse what might be a duty, though she felt very diffident of her powers of instruction. Marianne, like Phyllis and Adeline, became a Sunday scholar, and was catechised with the others in church. Both Mr. Mohun and his nephew thought very highly of the family, and the latter was particularly glad that Lily should have some older person to assist her in those parish matters which he left partly in her charge.
Mr. Devereux had been Rector of Beechcroft about a year and a half, and had hitherto been much liked. His parishioners had known him from a boy, and were interested about him, and though very young, there was something about him that gained their respect. Almost all his plans were going on well, and things were, on the whole, in a satisfactory state, though no one but Lilias expected even Cousin Robert to make a Dreamland of Beechcroft, and there were days when he looked worn and anxious, and the girls suspected that some one was behaving ill.
Have you a headache, Robert? asked Emily, a few evenings before Whit-Sunday, you have not spoken three words this evening.
Not at all, thank you, said Mr. Devereux, smiling, you need not think to make me your victim, now you have no Claude to nurse.
Then if it is not bodily, it is mental, said Lily.
I am in a difficulty about the christening of Mrs. Naylors child.
Naylor the blacksmith? said Jane. I thought it was high time for it to be christened. It must be six weeks old.
Is it not to be on Whit-Sunday? said Lily, disconsolately.
Oh no! Mrs. Naylor will not hear of bringing the child on a Sunday, and I could hardly make her think it possible to bring it on Whit-Tuesday.
Why did you not insist? said Lily.
Perhaps I might, if there was no other holy day at hand, or if there was not another difficulty, a point on which I cannot give way.
Oh! the godfathers and godmothers, said Lily, does she want that charming brother of hers, Edward Gage?
Yes, and what is worse, Edward Gages dissenting wife, and Dick Rodd, who shows less sense of religion than any one in the parish, and has never been confirmed.
Could you make them hear reason?
They were inclined to be rather impertinent, said Mr. Devereux. Old Mrs. Gage
Oh! interrupted Jane, there is no hope for you if the sour Gage is in the pie.
The sour Gage told me people were not so particular in her younger days, and perhaps they should not have the child christened at all, since I was such a contrary gentleman. Tom Naylor was not at home, I am to see him to-morrow.
Well, I do not think Tom Naylor is as bad as the rest, said Lily; he would have been tolerable, if he had married any one but Martha Gage.
Yes, he is an open good-natured fellow, and I have hopes of making an impression on him.
If not, said Lily, I hope papa will take away his custom.
What? said Mr. Mohun, who always heard any mention of himself. Mr. Devereux repeated his history, and discussed the matter with his uncle, only once interrupted by an inquiry from Jane about the childs name, a point on which she could gain no intelligence. His report the next day was not decidedly unfavourable, though he scarcely hoped the christening would be so soon as Tuesday. He had not seen the father, and suspected he had purposely kept out of the way.
Jane, disappointed that the babys name remained a mystery, resolved to set out on a voyage of discovery. Accordingly, as soon as her cousin was gone, she asked Emily if she had not been saying that Ada wanted some more cotton for her sampler.
Yes, said Emily, but I am not going to walk all the way to Mrs. Appletons this afternoon.
Shall I go? said Jane. Ada, run and fetch your pattern. Emily and Ada were much obliged by Janes disinterested offer, and in a quarter of an hour Adas thoughts and hands were busy in Mrs. Appletons drawer of many-coloured cotton.
What a pity this is about Mrs. Naylors baby, began Jane.
It is a sad story indeed, Miss Jane, I am sure it must be grievous to Mr. Devereux, said Mrs. Appleton. Betsy Wall said he had been there three times about it.
Ah! we all know that Walls have ears, said Jane; how that Betsy does run about gossiping!
Yes, Miss Jane, there she bides all day long at the stile gaping; not a stitch does she do for her mother; I cannot tell what is to be the end of it.
And do you know what the childs name is to be, Mrs. Appleton?
No, Miss Jane, answered Mrs. Appleton. Betsy did say they talked of naming him after his uncle, Edward Gage, only Mr. Devereux would not let him stand.
No, said Jane. Since he married that dissenting wife he never comes near the church; he is too much like the sour Gage, as we call his mother, to be good for much. But, after all, he is not so bad as Dick Rodd, who has never been confirmed, and has never shown any sense of religion in his life.
Yes, Miss, Dick Rodd is a sad fellow: did you hear what a row there was at the Mohun Arms last week, Miss Jane?
Aye, said Jane, and papa says he shall certainly turn Dick Rodd out of the house as soon as the lease is out, and it is only till next Michaelmas twelve-months.
Yes, Miss, as I said to Betsy Wall, it would be more for their interest to behave well.
Indeed it would, said Jane. Robert and papa were talking of having their horses shod at Stoney Bridge, if Tom Naylor will be so obstinate, only papa does not like to give Tom up if he can help it, because his father was so good, and Tom would not be half so bad if he had not married one of the Gages.
Here is Cousin Robert coming down the lane, said Ada, who had chosen her cotton, and was gazing from the door. Jane gave a violent start, took a hurried leave of Mrs. Appleton, and set out towards home; she could not avoid meeting her cousin.
Oh, Jenny! have you been enjoying a gossip with your great ally? said he.
We have only been buying pink cotton, said Ada, whose conscience was clear.
Ah! said Mr. Devereux, Beechcroft affairs would soon stand still, without those useful people, Mrs. Appleton, Miss Wall, and Miss Jane Mohun, and he passed on. Jane felt her face colouring, his freedom from suspicion made her feel very guilty, but the matter soon passed out of her mind.
Blithe Whit-Sunday came, the five Miss Mohuns appeared in white frocks, new bonnets were plenty, the white tippets of the children, and the bright shawls of the mothers, made the village look gay; Wat Greenwood stuck a pink between his lips, and the green boughs of hazel and birch decked the dark oak carvings in the church.
And Whit-Monday came. At half-past ten the rude music of the band of the Friendly Society came pealing from the top of the hill, then appeared two tall flags, crowned with guelder roses and peonies, then the great blue drum, the clarionet blown by red-waist-coated and red-faced Mr. Appleton, the three flutes and the triangle, all at their loudest, causing some of the spectators to start, and others to dance. Then behold the whole procession of labourers, in white round frocks, blue ribbons in their hats, and tall blue staves in their hands. In the rear, the confused mob, women and children, cheerful faces and mirthful sounds everywhere. These were hushed as the flags were lowered to pass under the low-roofed gateway of the churchyard, and all was still, except the trampling of feet on the stone floor. Then the service began, the responses were made in full and hearty tones, almost running into a chant, the old 133rd Psalm was sung as loudly and as badly as usual, a very short but very earnest sermon was preached, and forth came the troop again.