The weekly clearance of mundane books has been made at Plas Berwyn; the
skimp drab gowns, and the ill-made frock coat, whose flaps lap over one
another so painfully behind, have been endured by the Misses Brandon
and their brother respectively. At church has been all the Brandon
household: son and daughters, man-servant and maid-servant, ox and
sheep, camel and ass. I need hardly say that the last quartette have
been introduced merely for the sake of euphony, and to give a fuller
rhythm to the close of the sentence. The Misses Brandon always stand
as stiff as pokers during the creed, with their backs to the altar. It
amuses them, and it does not do anybody else any harm, so why should
not they, poor women? Bob truckles to the Scarlet Woman; he bows, and
turns his honest, serious face to the east. The service is in Welsh,
of which he does not understand a word. He can pick his way pretty
well through the prayers, however, by the help of a Welsh and English
prayer book. There are several landmarks that he knows, whose friendly
faces beam upon him now and again when he is beginning to flounder
hopelessly among uncouth words of seven consonants and a vowel. These
are his chief finger-posts: "Gogoniant ir Tad, ac ir Mab, ac ir Yspryd
Glan;" that is, "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the
Holy Ghost." "Gwared ni, Arglywd daionus!" "Good Lord, deliver us!" "Na
Ladratta!" "Thou shalt not steal!"
Jack Craven has been to church too, and has, as he always does, been
reading the inscriptions on the coffin-plates, nailed up, Welsh
fashion, against the dilapidated, whitewashed walls, in lieu of
monumental tablets. Esther has also been to church; has been in state
in a great, close carriage, in company with Sir Thomas, Miladi, and
Miss Blessington. Sir Thomas has been storming the whole way about a
gap he detected in a hedge that they passed, through which some cattle
have broken, so that they all arrive at the church door in that calmly
devout state of quietude which is the fittest frame of mind for the
reception of Divine truth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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