far too much of pig-stye about them for beauty or fragrance. Lucy
held up her skirts, and daintily picked her way, and Albinia looked
with kindly eyes at the doors and windows, secretly wondering what
friends she should find there.

The lane ended in a long flight of more than a hundred shallow steps
cut out in the soft stone of the hill, with landing-places here and
there, whence views were seen of the rich meadow-landscape beyond,
with villages, orchards, and farms, and the blue winding river Baye
in the midst, woods rising on the opposite side under the soft haze
of distance. On the other side, the wall of rock was bordered by
gardens, with streamers of ivy or periwinkle here and there hanging
down.

The ascent ended in an old-fashioned stone stile; and here Sophy,
standing on the step, proclaimed, with unnecessary loudness, that Mr.
Dusautoy was carrying Mrs. Dusautoy across the churchyard. This had
the effect of making a pause, but Albinia saw the rector, a tall,
powerful man, rather supporting than actually carrying, a little
fragile form to the low-browed door leading into the chancel on the
north side. The church was handsome, though in the late style, and a
good deal misused by eighteenth-century taste; and Albinia was full
of admiration as Mr. Kendal conducted her along the flagged path.

She was rather dismayed to find herself mounting the gallery stairs,
and to emerge into a well-cushioned abode, with the shield-bearing
angel of the corbel of an arch all to herself, and a very good view
of the cobwebs over Mr. Dusautoy's sounding-board. It seemed to suit
all parties, however, for Lucy and Sophia took possession of the
forefront, and their father had the inmost corner, where certainly