"And what a pity it is crumbling away so!" said Eleanor. "See that nearer angle—it is breaking down fast. I wish it would stay as it is."
"Nothing will do that for you. What is all that collection of rubbish yonder?"
"That is where Mr. Carlisle is going to build a cottage for one of his people—somebody to take care of the ruins, I believe."
"And he takes the ruins to build it with, and the old priory grounds too!"
Eleanor looked again at her companion.
"I think it is better than to have the broken stones lying all over—don't you?"
"I do not."
"Mr. Carlisle thinks so. Now here we are in the body of the church—there you see where the roof went, by the slanting lines on the tower wall; and we are standing where the congregation used to assemble."
"Not much of a congregation," said her companion. "The neighbouring country furnished few attendants, I fancy; the old monks and their retainers were about all. The choir would hold most of them; the nave, where we are standing, would have been of little use except for processions."
"Processions?" said Eleanor.