At the end of July the Fransdale Sports took place, an annual event of the highest local importance. They were held in a meadow near the head of the Dale, not far below the Vicarage. The meadow sloped violently, but the fact was accepted by the natives as part of an inexorable law of Nature. All fields sloped; you might as well quarrel with the grass for being green.
From early morning the little heathery tracks leading down from the Riggs were black with a crawling line of folks, descending Indian file by devious ways to the scene of action. Traps of all kinds, crowded with passengers, began to arrive, and to distribute themselves in all the neighbouring stable-yards, which were soon filled to overflowing.
Streams of fine plough-horses, yearlings, hunters and little fluffy foals, moved slowly along various radii to the centre. On the ground, the chief farmers' wives were preparing a "ham tea" of vast proportions in a large tent.
As the day wore on, the whole scene was alive with colour. Exhibits of butter, eggs, vegetables and fruit, were being solemnly appraised by business-like judges. There was a cackle of fowls, a cooing of doves, the outraged cries of lordly rams tethered to stakes and with coloured ribbons round their horns.
And the band! One of the visitors remarked that it was worth coming far, if only to see that band!
The musicians sat upon boards in the large hay-cart in which they had been conveyed to the festal scene, and from which the horses had been removed. Their broad and solid backs, in every hue of weather-stained fustian, formed a study for the eye of the humorously inclined.
Then, of course, there were cocoa-nut shies and gingerbread stalls, and a wheel of fortune. For this one day in the year the austere solitude of the moorland was broken through, and Fransdale was actually noisy and crowded.
Among the throng, which grew thicker as the day wore into afternoon, was a sprinkling of gentry, conspicuous among whom were the Burmesters. Sir Joseph took a genuine interest in all the exhibits, and gave many valuable prizes. There was naturally great interest among all the natives over Lancelot's engagement. Melicent was a most popular person, and glances of affectionate admiration followed her to-day.
She wore a white lace gown, with La France roses, and her white sunshade was lined with rose colour. Brenda thought she had never seen her look so pretty, nor so sad.
"The Ayres' party are here," said Lance, strolling up to where his mother stood, with Mrs. Helston and Melicent, watching the first heats of a race run off. "They've brought their tame crowd of convalescents with them."