The Maidens of Walsingham

– Where are you going? – Christine asked her, afraid to be alone with her younger sister, because she didn't know how to behave or what to say.

– I'm going to get some water! – Kate replied and hurried out of the house.

Christine realised she had lied but said nothing.

– Eat, Cassie, and then you can go out," she said.

Cassie brightened and eagerly began to eat her porridge.

Chapter 12

That same evening Mr. Pilough, as promised, wrote to Lord Draymore about the parson's tragedy, but because the Count was in another town, the envelope with the letter was not opened. In spite of this circumstance, however, the parson's death was nevertheless known: Mr. Pilough, who had become firm friends with Mr. Morris within two months, wrote to him as well. The letter reached London in a short time, in a day and a half from the time the architect hurriedly sent it from Rivershold. Having received and read the letter at noon, Dr Morris was filled with genuine sadness and horror, and hastened to Viscount Wilworth's house. On reaching the Viscount's mansion, Mr. Morris was without delay admitted to the master of the house himself.

– Mr. Morris! You are just in time for lunch," said the Viscount, delighted at his visit.

– Thank you, sir, but I am not hungry. I am afraid I bring you very sad news! – Mr. Morris replied with a slight bow.

– Please, sit down. – Viscount Wilworth pointed to an empty chair by a table laden with porcelain plates of dainty treats: the Viscount liked to have his lunches outdoors, on one of the balconies of his mansion. – What is this sad news?

– Alas, sir, the news is not merely sad, it is terrible: I received a letter from Mr. Pilough today. Perhaps you remember him? The Count of Draymore left it in the village during the restoration.

– Yes, I remember him. An architect from London.

– Well, sir, he informed me of the tragic death of Pastor Glowford the other day.

This news struck the Viscount to the very heart: it even trembled with horror, and the whole being of the young nobleman was in a great agitation.

– It is terrible news! There are no words to express how much I am struck by it! – exclaimed the Viscount, immediately placing the cup of tea he held in his hand on the table. – But how is it possible? How could this misfortune have happened?

– Pastor Glowford had been volunteering to help in the work of restoring the church as a builder, and one of the stone slabs had been too massive for the old building. The stone beneath it had crumbled, and the slab had fallen directly on the head of the parson who was passing under it. It was an instantaneous, painless death; I don't think the poor fellow had time to realise it," said Mr. Morris, again experiencing the sadness he had felt when he had read Mr. Pilough's letter.

– What a pity! What a tragedy! – The Viscount exclaimed quietly: he was truly saddened by the death of Pastor Glowford, but he was also disturbed by the fact that his daughters were orphans. – What about his daughters?

– When tragedy struck, one of the young men ran to the field where the peasants were working and told them of the parson's death. Everyone rushed to the church. The older Glowford girls were upset, they were stu

– Poor girls, they were so fond of their father! – sighed the Viscount. – But what is happening at Walsingham now?

– Unfortunately, sir, I have no such information. Mr. Pilough described only the parson's death, and, having hardly finished his letter, sent it to me without delay. 'But I hope the poor girls will get over this grief,' replied Mr. Morris.

There was silence; both were lost in their own thoughts.

The Viscount's high spirits were spoilt, and he was consumed with thoughts of how the parson's death had affected, and would affect, the lives of his daughters.

– What of Miss Cassandra? What are her feelings? – he asked quietly.

– I don't know, sir, but I will write to Mr. Pilough today. It is a day and a half since that unfortunate moment, and I suppose a lot has happened at Walsingham in the meantime, but I hope my friend will make it clear to us," said the doctor.

It seemed strange that the death of a lowly parson from some backwoods town should have so deeply grieved a man who lived in London and was a member of England's high society. But the Viscount was indeed distressed and affected by the event. What grieved him most, however, was that dear Cassie must be extremely upset by her father's death, and he feared that the trauma would damage her already sick mind.

– 'The girls must be helped,' said the Viscount firmly. – They are young and unmarried, and it will be hard for them to live on their own. What funds do they have?

– The Glowfords have a small garden to feed on. Sometimes the older sisters spin cloth and sell it, but it's a pittance: there's plenty of it in Walsingham. In the summer the girls work with the other peasants in the fields and in the autumn, they get their share of the harvest.

– What kind of harvest?

– Potatoes, sir.

– Potatoes only? – The Viscount was unpleasantly surprised.

– Alas, sir, it is so, but it will not be enough to feed us. The Glowfords subsist mostly on lean porridge and black bread, but sometimes the peasants share some food with them. The family has no livestock or poultry, so they hardly eat meat. At a wedding I attended in Walsingham, Miss Cassie was chewing something almost non-stop, and my heart burst at the sight of her.

– It's incredible! What a plight! I must help them. I can't bear the fact that there is a kingdom of poverty next to such a splendidly rich manor of Rivershold! But, Mr. Morris, all this has led me to a thought: the parson was absolutely opposed to Miss Cassandra's treatment-" And the Viscount, frowning, fell silent.

– 'That is true, sir, but where are you going with this? – the doctor wondered.

– Perhaps I can persuade Miss Catherine to let me take Cassie to London and treat her here," the noble lord finished his thought in a firm tone.

– For God's sake, sir! How can you think of such a thing now that the girls have lost their father? You can't use this tragic situation for your own good! It's inhuman! Just think of what these bright souls are going through! – Mr. Morris was indignant and not afraid to express his displeasure at the Viscount's intentions.

– You are quite right, Mr. Morris, it is low and cynical of me," he agreed, after carefully considering his conduct. – The girls should be given time to heal and rest.

– Exactly, sir, and in spite of your noble intentions, I am glad to be able to reason with you," said the doctor. These words did not hurt the Viscount's pride, for he had a high regard for the person of Mr. Morris, with whom the lord's late father had been a friend. – 'As far as I know, Miss Cassie was very much attached to her father. How she must be suffering, poor girl!

– But you wanted to adopt her. And, on account of the parson's death, you can now put it into effect, at the right time, of course," the Viscount reminded him. – Don't mistake my reasoning for cynicism, doctor. I deeply regret Pastor Glowford's death, but I am also thinking of poor Miss Cassandra's fate.

– Ah, yes, of course, but I would not wish to begin the adoption process now that the lovely girl is in great sadness. Especially, Miss Catherine's consent would be required, and I don't think she would so readily allow me to take Cassie away from her and tear her away from her family. I rightly suppose it would take long persuasion and good reasoning to get Miss Catherine to agree to this step, for she has been bringing up Cassie since she was born, and she ca