“What was his text?” inquired heedless Aubrey.
“‘Thou shalt love the Lord thy God,’” repeated Hans.
“Ay, and all he did, the hour through,” cried Lettice, “was to bid us obey the Church, and hear the Church, and not run astray after no novelties in religion. And the Church is not the Lord our God, neither is religion, so far as I see.”
“I mind Sir Aubrey once saying,” added Hans, “that when a bride talked ever of herself, and nothing of her bridegroom, it was a very ill augury of the state of her heart.”
“But saw you those two great candlesticks on the holy table?—what for be they?” said Lettice.
“Oh, they be but ornaments of the church,” answered Aubrey, carelessly.
“But we have none such in Keswick Church: and what is the good of candlesticks without candles?”
“The candles will come,” quietly replied Hans.
“Ah! you’re thinking of what the old gentlewoman said last night—confess, Master Sobersides!” said Aubrey.
“I have thought much on it,” answered Hans, who walked along, carrying the ladies’ prayer-books; for the road being dirty, they had enough to do in holding up their gowns. “And I think she hath the right.”