Even the approaching wedding of Miss Lily was a small event in the eyes of the old labourer and his wife, compared to the return to the vicarage of "brave Master Harry" from sea.
[CHAPTER II.]
Neglected Duty.
IF there was pleasure in the cottage at the officer's return, what was the joy within the home of his parents! Perhaps there was not a more cheerful group in all England than that which gathered round the pastor's fireside on that cold evening in March. There were eager questionings, pleasant replies; every eye was turned towards Harry as he sat with his feet resting on the fender, and his mother's hand clasped in his own. Harry had much to relate which every one wanted to hear, and half the tale seemed untold when, at a later hour than usual, the family retired to rest, after the evening prayer had been prayed, and the evening hymn sung by voices which trembled with thankful joy.
Before breakfast on the following morning, as the vicar was taking his usual early walk round his lawn, he heard a quick step behind him, and then Harry's hand was laid on his arm.
"Ah! My boy, glad to see you! I could hardly have a word with you yesterday, your mother and the girls seemed resolved to have you all to themselves," said the vicar, as he wrung the hand of his son.
"It is so delightful to be at home once more!" observed Harry, while he sauntered along the gravel path at his father's side. "Everything looks just as when I left it, I could fancy myself, as in old times, just returning from school. It was a pleasure to me yesterday to see the familiar faces of good old Garth and his wife, who were standing in front of their cottage. I suppose that the hulking lad at their side was 'little Mat,' whom I remember at the Sunday class, when I made my first essay at teaching. Precious hard work it was to ram anything into his brain!"
"Mat is a good lad, though not a bright one," observed the vicar. "As for the Garths, there is not a more honest fellow in the village than Michael, and Martha is one of the kindest-hearted creatures that I ever met with in my life."
"I recollect," remarked the young officer, "that there was only one thing about the Garths which you used to regret in old days. They were steady in attendance at church, but they were not communicants then."
"Nor are they now," said the vicar, stopping for a moment in his walk. "It is to me a strange, an almost unaccountable thing, that God-fearing, God-serving people such as they, who attend the Lord's house, and prize His Word, should yet, month after month, year after year, turn their backs upon His table."