Mrs Lambert's words made her heart beat fast with mingled fear and
indignation, and she determined to lose no time in writing to Bet, and
telling her the sale must at once be thought of, for Mr Bayfield was
inexorable, and he must have the money.
The next morning was fair and bright.
The bells of the Bristol churches were ringing a joyous peal, telling
out the glad tidings that the Lord was risen, and Mrs Lambert, arrayed
in her best gown, leaning on her gold-headed walking-stick, with Bryda
at her side carrying her big books, went to the service at the
cathedral.
The anthem had again a message for Bryda, as on that first Sunday long
ago. _Even so in Christ shall all be made alive_, sounded the triumphal
strain, and then there came into her young heart the question, had she
any part or lot in the risen Christ? Bryda had never been confirmed.
Confirmations in those days were of rare occurrence, and the remote
country districts were reached by the Bishop of the diocese at long
intervals. But Mrs Lambert, being a rigid observer of times and seasons,
went up to the altar, at the conclusion of the morning prayer and short
dry sermon, to receive the Holy Communion, as it is set forth in the
prayer book that such is the duty of all members of the Church three
times a year at least, of which Easter is one.
Mrs Lambert put out her hand to Bryda as she left the pew, as if she
needed her support, but poor Bryda shook her head and whispered,--
'I cannot come, madam.'
Mrs Lambert gave her a reproving glance, and one of her friends, seeing
her dilemma, came forward and gave the old lady an arm to the altar.
Bryda sank down on her knees, and all unbidden tears forced their way
through her fingers. She felt outside, poor child, and uncared for, and
so sorely in need of some help in what was likely to be a crisis in her
life.
If the Squire persisted, what should she do? Then, with a great longing
of prayer, she asked for wisdom to do what was best and right--and to
marry the Squire could never be best and right. Better let everything at
the farm be sold. Better let her grandfather suffer than consent to what
would be a sin. Then the remembrance of Mrs Lambert's words the day
before made her cheeks burn, and she rose up at last determined to let
Betty know that immediate steps must be taken and the large sum raised
to pay off the debt.
That afternoon Jack Henderson was not disappointed of his walk. He
appeared dressed in his best, with a large bunch of primroses, bought in
the market the day before in his hand, and two or three in his
buttonhole.
The bunch he presented to Bryda, who returned with them, for a minute,
to the parlour, and filling a vase with water, placed them on the little
table where the volume of sermons lay.
'Mr Henderson brought them for me, madam,' she said. 'It is too large a
posy to carry, so I will beg you to accept them.'
Mrs Lambert was pleased to sniff the flowers and say,--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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