Blithe Whit-Sunday came, the five Miss Mohuns appeared in white frocks, new bonnets were plenty, the white tippets of the children, and the bright shawls of the mothers, made the village look gay; Wat Greenwood stuck a pink between his lips, and the green boughs of hazel and birch decked the dark oak carvings in the church.

And Whit-Monday came.  At half-past ten the rude music of the band of the Friendly Society came pealing from the top of the hill, then appeared two tall flags, crowned with guelder roses and peonies, then the great blue drum, the clarionet blown by red-waist-coated and red-faced Mr. Appleton, the three flutes and the triangle, all at their loudest, causing some of the spectators to start, and others to dance.  Then behold the whole procession of labourers, in white round frocks, blue ribbons in their hats, and tall blue staves in their hands.  In the rear, the confused mob, women and children, cheerful faces and mirthful sounds everywhere.  These were hushed as the flags were lowered to pass under the low-roofed gateway of the churchyard, and all was still, except the trampling of feet on the stone floor.  Then the service began, the responses were made in full and hearty tones, almost running into a chant, the old 133rd Psalm was sung as loudly and as badly as usual, a very short but very earnest sermon was preached, and forth came the troop again.

Mr. Devereux always dined with the club in a tent, at the top of the hill, but his uncle made him promise to come to a second dinner at the New Court in the evening.

‘Robert looks anxious,’ said Lily, as she parted with him after the evening service; ‘I am afraid something is going wrong.’

‘Trust me for finding out what it is,’ said Jane.

‘No, no, Jenny, do not ask him,’ said Lily; ’if he tells us to relieve his mind, I am very glad he should make friends of us, but do not ask.  Let us talk of other things to put it out of his head, whatever it may be.’

Jane soon heard more of the cause of the depression of her cousin’s spirits than even she had any desire to do.  After dinner, the girls were walking in the garden, enjoying the warmth of the evening, when Mr. Devereux came up to her and drew her aside from the rest, telling her that he wished to speak to her.

‘Oh!’ said Jane, ’when am I to meet you at school again?  You never told me which chapter I was to prepare; I cannot think what would become of your examinations if it was not for me, you could not get an answer to one question in three.’

‘That was not what I wished to speak to you about,’ said Mr. Devereux.  ’What had you been saying to Mrs. Appleton when I met you at her door on Saturday?’

The colour rushed into Jane’s cheeks, but she replied without hesitation, ’Oh! different things, La pluie et le beau temps, just as usual.’

‘Cannot you remember anything more distinctly?’

‘I always make a point of forgetting what I talk about,’ said Jane, trying to laugh.