“No, she has given it up. It seems as if we at least ought to recollect our Ember days, though I am ashamed to think we never did till this time last year.”
“I confess that I never heard of them,” said Mrs. Poynsett. “Don’t look shocked, my dear; such things were not taught in my time.”
Julius showed her the rubric and the prayer from the book in his pocket, knowing that the one endeared to her by association was one of the Prayer-books made easy by omission of all not needed at the barest Sunday service.
“I see,” she said, “it seems quite right. I wish you had told me before you were ordained, my dear.”
“You kept your Ember days for me by instinct, dear mother.”
“Don’t be too sure, Julius. One learns many things when one is laid on one’s back.”
“Think of Herbert now,” whispered Jenny. “I am glad he is sheltered from all this hubbub by being at the palace. I suppose you cannot go to the Cathedral, Julius?”
“No, Bindon will not come back till his brother’s holiday is over, nor do I even know where to write to him. Oh! here comes Anne. Now for her impressions.”
Anne had brought her little gift for Mrs. Poynsett, and displayed her presents for Glen Fraser, but as to what she had seen it made her shudder and say, “You were right, Julius, I did not know people could go on so! And with all those poor people ill close by. Miss Slater, who sat on the stairs just below me tying up flowers, is much grieved about a lad who was at work there till a fortnight ago, and now is dying of a fever, and harassed by all the rattling of the carriages.”
“What! close by! Nothing infectious, I hope?”