As I knew that she was not likely to wake for some hours I ventured to leave her, and, taking my book of "Hours," I stole down into the garden, and seated myself in a shady corner, a favorite place of mine, where one of the buttresses of the old gray stone church projected into our garden. There was a window directly over my head, out of which several lights were broken, and as I sat, I could hear the voice of Mr. Cheriton reading the service, and the droning responses of the old clerk. Mr. Cheriton had a good voice and read remarkably well. He had too much taste to mumble the service, as many clergymen do, or to repeat it like a child going through the pence table. Not that I should have seen any thing wrong in it if he had, for I was used to say my own rosary much in the same way. Mr. Cheriton had also a musical ear, and his efforts, joined to those of Mr. Lilburne, the organist, had made the singing the best in town, so that many fine people came purposely to hear it. These people were sometimes to be seen coming away before the sermon, which I should think could hardly have been very pleasing to Mr. Cheriton. I had not said to myself that my object in seeking the corner under the church wall was to hear the service, and yet such was really my purpose. I had begun to be very curious about the ways and worship of Protestants, and would have liked very well to go to church with Mrs. Thorpe for once, but I had not yet ventured to propose such a thing to Amabel. However, I said to myself that there could be no harm in listening, so long as I did not join in the heretical worship. So I did listen with all my ears, and made the discovery that the service—prayers, hymns, and all—was in English, so that I understood every word. "How strange that they should have the Church prayers in the common vulgar language that they use every day," said I to myself. And then the thought occurred to me, that as most of the worshippers were common vulgar people, perhaps it was as well that the prayers should be in a language which they understood. Presently I made another discovery, which was, that the priest did not have all the service between himself and the choir, but that the people actually joined in it. Any one who looks into the matter will see that in the Romish Church there is no such thing as common prayer as we understand it. The priest and his assistants perform the mass, and the choir sings the responses, while the books of those who are able to read contain various devotions, such as are considered appropriate to different portions of the service. There may be as many different prayer-books as there are worshippers.