It was a lovely morning, and every one was going to walk over to Fifield church except Laura, who had almost tearfully entreated to be left in charge of Lally.
“I love her as much as any of you,” she said, “and still I have the least to do with her.”
So it was settled that Laura should remain at home, and all the rest proceed along Berrie Down Lane,—up which we walked slowly and lingeringly in the first chapter in this book—to Fifield.
A large party—for, although the intended festivities had been given up, and no visitors were invited to Berrie Down Hollow, still, the Dudleys themselves made a goodly number—eight, including Bessie—who looked pale and tired when she came into the drawing-room, “dressed in all her best;” so shrieked Harry Marsden—and ready to go to church.
“Mayn’t I go too?” asked that young gentleman, pulling at Heather’s dress; “I’d like the walk as well as anybody.”
“Do you think it is only for the sake of the walk we are going to church, Harry?” asked Agnes, virtuously drawing on her gloves as she spoke.
“How should I know? Bessie’s likely going for the sake of the young men; that’s what pa says takes all girls to church,” answered the enfant terrible.
“Well, I daresay Mrs. Dudley will not object to your seeing whether that is what we go for,” said Bessie. “I will brush your hair and put you to rights, for you are a perfect scarecrow now.”
And thus it was settled Master Marsden should accompany the party; and Alick, home for Christmas, had not a chance given him of looking at Agnes to see how she took Harry’s remark about the object for which young ladies went to church.
“What had taken her to North Kemms,” he wondered; “whom could the man be they had met there? what his connection with Bessie?”