‘Where have you been all this time?’ said she to Elizabeth, while she caught hold of Winifred’s hand, or, more properly speaking, of her wrist; ‘we shall all be too late.’

‘I have been at the school,’ said Elizabeth.

‘What! do you keep school to-day?’ asked Mrs. Hazleby.

‘No,’ said Elizabeth, ’but the children are going to the Consecration.’

‘Poor little things!’ exclaimed Mrs. Hazleby; ’how will they sit out such a service?’

‘None under seven years old are to be there,’ said Elizabeth, ’and of the older ones only those who are tolerably good; and I should think they could join in the service sufficiently to prevent them from finding it tedious.’

‘Well, I hope so,’ said Mrs. Hazleby, in a voice which meant, ’What nonsense!’ ‘How steep the hill is!’ added she presently; ’what a fatigue for old people!’

‘It is not nearly so steep on the other side,’ replied Elizabeth, ‘and the people on this side have the old church.’

‘Why did they choose such an exposed situation?’ continued Mrs. Hazleby; ‘so hot in summer, and so cold in winter.’

’There was no other open piece of ground to be had near enough to the new town,’ answered Elizabeth, keeping to herself an additional reason, which was, that tradition said that there had once been a little chapel dedicated in the name of St. Augustine, on the site of the new church.  Mrs. Hazleby was silent for a few moments, when, as they came in sight of what was passing at the top of the hill, she saw a gentleman hasten across the church-yard, and asked who he was.

‘Mr. Somerville, the new curate,’ was the answer.

‘What! another curate?  I thought Mr. Walker might have been enough!’ exclaimed Mrs. Hazleby.

‘Papa did not think so,’ said Elizabeth drily.

’Well, I suppose that is another hundred a year out of Mr. Woodbourne’s pocket,’ said Mrs. Hazleby; ‘enough to ruin his family.’

‘I am sure,’ said Elizabeth, beginning to grow angry, ’Papa had rather do his duty as a clergyman, than lay up thousands for us.’

‘Fine talking for young things,’ said Mrs. Hazleby; ’besides, it is nothing to you, you three elder ones will be well enough off with your mother’s fortune.’

Elizabeth was more annoyed and provoked by this speech than by anything Mrs. Hazleby had ever said to her before; her cheeks burnt with indignation, and something which felt very like shame, but her bonnet concealed them, and she attempted no reply.  Mrs. Hazleby began talking to Winifred about her new sash, and criticizing Elizabeth’s dress; and though Elizabeth could have wished Winifred’s mind to have been occupied with other things at such a time, yet she was glad of the opportunity this diversion gave her to compose herself before entering the church.