'Wouldn't it make a famous picture?' whispered Roy, eagerly. 'I should like to paint it, and send it to the Royal Academy--"The Westmorland Rush-bearing." Doesn't May look a perfect fairy in her white dress, with her curls falling over her neck? That rogue of a Claude has chosen her for his partner. There, they are going to have lemonade and cake, and then they will "trip on the light, fantastic toe," till the church bells ring;' but Mildred was too much absorbed to answer. The play of light and shadow, the shifting colours, the children's innocent faces and joyous laughter, the gaping rustics on the outside of the circle, charmed and interested her. She was sorry when the picture was broken up, and Mr. Delaware and the other clergy formed the children into an orderly procession again. Mildred and Richard were the last to enter the church, but Miss Trelawny made room for them beside her. The pretty little church was densely crowded, and there was quite an inspiring array of clergy and choristers when the processional hymn was sung. Mr. Delaware gave an appropriate and very eloquent address, and during a pause in the service the church-wardens collected the garlands from the children, which were placed by the officiating priest and the assistant clergy on the altar-steps, or on the sloping sills of the chancel windows, or even on the floor of the sanctuary itself, the sunshine lighting up with vivid hues the many-coloured crowns. These were left until the following day, when they were placed on a frame made for the purpose at the other end of the church, and there they hung until the next rush-bearing day; the brown drooping leaves and faded flowers bearing solemn witness of the mutability and decay of all earthly things. But as Mildred looked at the altar-steps, crowded with the fragrant and innocent offerings of the children, so solemnly blessed and accepted, and heard the fresh young voices lifted up in the crowning hymn of praise, there came to her remembrance some lines she had heard sung in an old city church, when the broidered bags, full of rich offerings, had been laid on the altar:-- 'Holy offerings rich and rare, Offerings of praise and prayer, Purer life and purpose high, Clasped hands and lifted eye, Lowly acts of adoration To the God of our salvation. On His altar laid we leave them, Christ present them! God receive them!' CHAPTER XI AN AFTERNOON IN CASTLESTEADS 'The fields were all i' vapour veil'd Till, while the warm, breet rays assail'd, Up fled the leet, grey mist. The flowers expanded one by one, As fast as the refreshing sun Their dewy faces kiss'd. * * * * * 'And pleasure danced i' mony an e'e An' mony a heart, wi' mirth and glee Thus flutter'd and excited-- An' this was t' cause, ye'll understand Some friends a grand picnic had plann'd, An' they had been invited.'