The four Corners abroad

by Amy Ella Blanchard

"She was the archbishop's wife," Nan told her, "and you have been quite honored. I suppose you were out watching the rooks and that was why we couldn't find you."

"Yes, and I am glad I was, for I wouldn't have sat in the archbishop's pew if I had gone in with you," returned Jack complacently. She always comforted herself by deriving such benefit as she could from any of her escapades, and if truth must be told she usually did come off with flying colors.

Mrs. Corner, who was interested in getting some records for a friend at home, determined upon a visit to the pastor of the Huguenot church, and took Mary Lee with her as the others had planned to go to St. Martin's. "You can tell us about your visit and we will tell you about ours," said Mary Lee to the others. "Time is too short for everybody to do everything."

"It was fine," cried Nan when she met Mary Lee later in the day.

"He is the dearest man," responded Mary Lee, "and he told us such interesting things, how Queen Elizabeth let the Huguenot refugees have their services in the crypt of the cathedral, and how there have been uninterrupted services held there ever since. There used to be a great many Huguenots in Canterbury, and there are still a number of French names, though a great many have become Anglicized. Baker used to be Boulanger, and White used to be Blanc. Now the congregation is very small, and there is very little money to pay the minister, but he is full of faith, and is so enthusiastic and simple-hearted. He believes that everything will come out all right. Just think, Nan, if it were not for him the services would have to stop, and after all these years it would be a shame. If I were very rich I would send him a big fat check, for I don't know any one who would use it more unselfishly. He lives in the tiniest little house, and 'does for himself' as they say in England. He had been working in his garden when we got there, and apologized for his appearance, but I just loved his simple ways, and—oh dear——" She paused to take breath.

"Go on," said Nan. "I am tremendously interested."

"He is so dear," continued Mary Lee, "and brought out some of the very old books he has, for as he said, 'I will show you the so many interesting things that I have.' He left his parish in Canada to come over here to take up this work because there was no one else who would do it, and he is so eager for the honor of this early church. He doesn't seem to care at all about himself. He ought to have a nice big rectory instead of that box of a house, and he believes that some day he will have, if it is best, but he thinks more of its being a dishonor to the church than of his own discomfort to live as he does. We are all going to the service in the crypt to-morrow afternoon. Do you know who Beza was? We are going to hear some of the old hymns that are in the old Beza hymn-book, and they will sing them just as their fore-fathers did, the pastor promised us."

"Good!" cried Nan. "I want to go, too. We haven't had a bad time, either, Mary Lee. You know St. Martin's was a Christian church before Saxon days and before St. Augustine came to Great Britain. It was fixed up as a chapel for Queen Bertha; she was the wife of Ethelbert. We saw the old font where he was baptized. There are some curious slits in the thick walls, and they are called 'leper's squints,' for you see the lepers couldn't go inside but stood outside and peeped in. The verger saw we were more interested than most visitors are and he told us a lot. He showed us where the old wall began and where the authentic Roman bricks are. There is a beautiful view of the town and the cathedral from the churchyard. I brought you an ivy-leaf that had fallen from the vine over the church, and we got some post-cards and a little pamphlet on our way home. Aunt Helen says it is called the Mother Church of England, and that though at Glastonbury Abbey the church had its actual beginnings, that it is now in ruins. I should love to go to Glastonbury, but I am afraid we cannot do it on this trip."

"You know Aunt Helen has promised that some time we shall come over and spend a whole summer in England, and then we can go."

"I'd like to spend weeks in Canterbury, and come to know every brick and stone by heart. Aunt Helen and I are making a list of the places we love best and, as you say, some day we are coming back and we mean to stay a long time in each of those places we do love. At least that is what we say we will do, and it is nice to think that we may."