family afflictions, and misfortune always touched his heart. They stayed talking together for several minutes, while the groups on their way to and from the shore lingered to look at the carriage and horses, and to speculate upon Sir Frederick's guests; and then drove rapidly back, through the lanes, to Maydwell.

CHAPTER VIII.

THERE was only one service in the pretty church in Sir Frederick's grounds, on Sunday. Miss Derwent and Clarice missed the pleasant custom of having the sacred building always open, which prevails in Roman Catholic countries. It seemed, especially to Laura, whose feelings were sanctified by affliction, that the few hours dedicated to the purpose, alternately in the morning and afternoon, constituted a very short space to be spent in public worship. The custom of the place, however, had always been the same; and no one but themselves appeared to wish it altered.

The service happened to be in the morning, on the first Sabbath after their arrival. Sir Frederick made a point of attending, and was generally punctual. There was, indeed, little

VOL. I.

I

excuse for being late, as the bells sounded very audibly for twenty minutes, and the church was close to the mansion. Mr. Holcombe likewise gave a little law to the Baronet; and, if he could avoid it, did not commence the prayers until the family from the Place had taken their seats.

Within and without, the edifice was in complete repair. The pews had been refitted since Sir Frederick came into the property; and all the tokens of neglect which old Miles Pemberton had suffered to accumulate, had been carefully obliterated. A very handsome raftered roof had been restored, and some ancient family monuments of the Derwents, in the chancel, retouched by the chisel of the sculptor, where time had effaced their distinctive marks. From the outside, the mantling ivy crept over the arched window, and the high trees mellowed the glare of the sunshine.

Laura Derwent was very much affected, when, for the first time, she knelt in prayer,

with the memorials of the dead of her own race around her. She had been too ill to be permitted to accompany the remains of her parents to England; but she saw their names on a monumental stone near her, and Sir Frederick perceived that her slight form shook with emotion; he heard her smothered weeping. Very kindly, he took the poor orphan's hand in his own, and held it tightly. Careless as he sometimes was, a very fervent prayer, that he might be able to supply the place of those whom she had lost, was in his heart; and, as he covered his face, and stood in his own station in the pew, before taking his seat, Laura felt his warm tears fall over her trembling fingers.

Mr. Holcombe had an impressive voice, and read the service well. Both the girls were pleased and struck with his manner at first; though, after a time, it wearied them. In the sermon, especially, his well-constructed, logical sentences rose and fell with a sort of musical cadence, monotonously, upon the ear. They

scarcely wondered that so many of his congre gation, one after another, went off to sleep.

The discourse, too, was somewhat above the comprehension of the humble, village listeners. There was nothing to affect them personally, and rouse their attention; no topic borrowed from the scenes of cottage-life open to the pastor, no metaphor taken from the husbandman's daily labour, and sphere of observation. All was classed and arranged scientifically. Mr. Holcombe no sooner mounted the pulpit, than his academic studies and modes of expression recurred to him. His was the learning of the schools; not the larger insight which his position might have given him, into the joys and sorrows of humanity.

His doctrine was strongly tainted with worldliness. It was not the lowly, self-denying faith of the Christian, confident in nothing but the all-sufficient merits of his Saviour; meekly bending before the will of his God, and beholding, in the Heaven revealed to him, a com