The Maidens of Walsingham - стр. 11

– I think so. And now we must rest from the day's labours.

The family lay down on their miserable beds.

Cassie was always the first to fall asleep, but this evening she was full of energy and desperate to do something naughty.

– Katie, shall we sing a song? – came a little voice in the darkness.

– It's late, darling, we need to sleep," Catherine answered her.

– But I can't sleep. Let's sing a song!

– Oh, God, Kate, calm her down! – came Christine's disgruntled voice.

– Chris, you should be more restrained," her father told her sternly. – Cassie, we'll sing, but tomorrow.

– But I want it now! It's a funny little song about chickens.

– Will you keep your mouth shut?

Christine's loud shout frightened poor Cassie, and she stopped talking and breathed deeply in fear.

– God will punish you for this! – Kate shouted at Christine, knowing what Cassie's heavy breathing meant. – You scared her! Cassie, come here.

Cassie quickly moved over to Kate's mattress and put her arms around her sister's neck. She couldn't get over her fright, and she couldn't understand why she had made Christine so angry, because all she wanted to do was sing a song about chickens.

She covered her ears with her hands and tried not to hear Cassie's sighs, which only annoyed her.

In the morning Cassie felt sick: her forehead was burning, and her skin was hot and moist. The girl did not go to matins. Cassie tossed and turned on her mattress for a long time, but still managed to fall asleep. When the Glowfords' neighbours heard that Cassie was unwell, they promised to bring some milk for her.

After the morning mass, Pastor Glowford went to the Count of Draymore's estate, Rivershold, which he had never been to during his stay in Walsingham, for the old landlord never took any interest in the fate of his peasants. The pastor walked: he was fond of walking, and at such times felt full of vigour. He had no horse, and he did not want to disturb the parishioners with his problems, and there was only one horse in the village. So, dressed in his best suit, long since worn and patched by Catherine's hands, Pastor Glowford walked along the dusty road to Rivershold. On the way, he prayed that God would listen to the prayers of his parishioners, turn Lord Draymore's heart to them, and meet their needs. He carried with him a large, yellowed paperweight with an old drawing of the church, wishing to show it to the Earl, with a view to its possible restoration. Strangely enough, the pastor believed the new landlord and thought that the Lord himself had brought him to Walsingham. But suddenly the pastor remembered Cassie's illness and became worried: how was his treasure feeling? But the knowledge that Catherine was looking after her reassured him: his face brightened, and with renewed strength and hope in his heart he made his way to the manor.

The two lords were seated in the large, sumptuous drawing-room, furnished with expensive English-style furniture, drinking brandy and discussing yesterday's trip to Walsingham.

– How could such squalid places exist in the early nineteenth century? I thought they had all disappeared a couple of centuries ago! – Lord Draymore said in surprise and grinned sarcastically. – Oh, Uncle Buck, what a burden you've put on my neck in exchange for this estate!