“A—–­men!”

With this last response from the choir, the congregation began to disperse, and Walden, glancing over the little moving crowd, saw the eager bustle and pressure of all its units to look at ’the ladies from the Manor’ and take stock of their wonderful costumes.  The grip of ‘the world’ was on them, and the only worshipper remaining quietly in his place, with hands clasped across his stick, and eyes closed, was Josey Letherbarrow.  The old man seemed to be praying inwardly—­his face was rapt and serene.  Walden looked down upon him very tenderly.  A verse of Browning’s ran through his mind:—­

    “Grow old along with me! 
     The best is yet to be,
     The last of life for which the first was made. 
     Our times are in His hand,
     Who saith:  ‘A whole I planned,’
     Youth shows but half; trust God; see all, nor be afraid!”

And musing on this, he descended slowly from the pulpit and retired.

XIX

Outside in the churchyard, there was a general little flutter of local excitement.  Maryllia lingered there for several minutes, pointing out the various beauties in the architecture of the church to her guests, not that these individuals were very much interested in such matters, for they were of that particular social type which considers that the highest form of good breeding is to show a polite nullity of feeling concerning everything and everybody.  They were eminently ‘cultured,’ which nowadays means pre-eminently dull.  Had they been asked, they would have said that it is dangerous to express any opinion on any subject,—­even on the architecture of a church.  Because the architect himself might be somewhere near,—­or the architect’s father, or his mother or his great-grandam—­one never knows!  And by a hasty remark in the wrong place and at the wrong moment, one might make an unnecessary enemy.  It is so much nicer—­so much safer to say nothing at all!  Of course they looked at the church,—­it would have been uncivil to their hostess not to look at it, as she was taking the trouble to call their attention to its various points, and they assumed the usual conventional air of appreciative admiration.  But none of, them understood anything about it,—­and none of them cared to understand.  They had not even noticed the ancient sarcophagus in front of the altar except as ’some odd kind of sculptured ornament.’  When they wore told what it was, they smiled vacuously, and said:  ‘How curious!’ But further than this mild and non-aggressive exclamation they did not venture.  The villagers hung about shyly, loth to lose sight of the ’quality’;—­ two or three ‘county’ people lingered also, to stare at, and comment upon, the notorious ‘beauty,’ Lady Beaulyon, whose physical charms, having been freely advertised for some years in the society columns of the press, were naturally ‘on show’ for the criticism of Tom, Dick and Harry,—­Mrs.