“That’s something like the ‘nun’s squint’ at St. Helen’s Church in the city,” observed Barbara.
On the way back to their hotel, John and Philip strayed into the old Guildhall which contains some portraits, which failed to impress the boys, however.
“S’pose they were old Mayors or some such fellows,” said John, when questioned as to what he saw. “Couldn’t bear ’em, with their bright velvet clothes and high ruffs. I’m glad I didn’t live then! Excuse me from ruffs!”
“If the important men of the town wore such gay and frivolous attire, they had to pay for it surely,” Mrs. Pitt added. “Last night I was reading that in the records of Canterbury for the year 1556, the Mayor was required to provide for his wife every year, before Christmas, a scarlet gown and a bonnet of velvet. That was enforced by law! Fancy! The women may have had a hand in that, for they very naturally wanted to make sure not to be outdone by the men in the point of fine clothes.”
As the automobile again passed under the West Gate, on its way back to London, Betty turned to Mrs. Pitt, and said in her quiet little way:
“I think you were right in what you said when we were at Salisbury. I think, too, that’s the most beautiful of all the cathedrals I’ve seen. But Canterbury, both the town and church, is very, very interesting. I like the stories about Becket and the pilgrims, too. I’d like to come again some day. Please take hold of my hand, John; I want to stand up a minute and watch that dear Bell Tower as long as I can.”