It smelt incredibly fusty, it was disfigured by hideous high pews, daubed with yellow paint, locally termed "horse-boxes"; the fine west window was blocked by a huge gallery containing the organ--an instrument so much out of order that half the notes were mute, and the pipes emitted the weirdest groans, absolutely terrifying to a stranger. The old sexton assured Llewellyn that the roof was so leaky that in wet weather the rain poured down on the congregation, and though there was a stove, it was so ill-constructed that in winter the cold was terrible. There was a fine old peal of bells, but the tower at the west end had a huge crack running from top to bottom, and seemed so unsafe that they did not dare to ring more than one. All this was sadly disheartening; especially as the church was really a fine building, with a splendid Norman doorway, a dilapidated but still beautiful carved screen, and many interesting features. "Is there really no rich family in the place who could help to restore it?" Llewellyn asked the sexton. "What about the people at the fine grey-stone Manor House, there among the trees?" "Oh, them's the Lancasters--they're rich enough, but you'll not get nothing out o' them, sir. Old Squire Lancaster and the old Rector quarrelled years ago about the family pew, and ever since they've gone to Thornton Church, in the next village. Miss never gives nothing to this church now." "Is she an elderly lady?" "Bless you, no sir, she's quite young--twenty-four, maybe--and handsome too. She's the only child, and since th' old Squire died she's had it all her own way, for her ma's a great invaleed, and never troubles about anything." Llewellyn sighed. It did seem unfortunate that the only rich people in the place should have quarrelled with the late incumbent. He asked an old friend, an architect, to come and stay with him in the comfortable Rectory, which was such a contrast to the tumbledown church, and give his opinion about the restoration. After due examination, Mr. Lane announced that, unless the foundations were strengthened, the tower at least partially rebuilt, the roof renewed, and the walls mended in weak places, the church could not last much longer. This would cost at least two thousand pounds, and if a new organ, new pews, and some much-needed internal improvements were also effected, a thousand more would be necessary. Poor Llewellyn--he was only thirty, and this was his first church--groaned aloud, as well he might. He had only a hundred a year of his own, besides his sorely depreciated living: and the small farmers and labourers who populated the parish were powerless to help. He might appeal to the Bishop, but the diocese was a very large and poor one, and Barnford was only one among many churches urgently needing repairs. [Illustration: "Is there no rich family in the place who could help to restore it?"--_p. 37._]