Suddenly one of the belated parishioners came hurriedly into the church: he whispered something in the ear of a near neighbour, the latter became agitated and whispered in the ear of another, and soon a whisper ran through the church: "He's coming, he's coming!" The Glowfords were excited too, but not Cassie for she was asleep with her head resting on the back of the pew.
The peasants' eyes centred on the church door, and soon indeed the one they had been waiting for so eagerly appeared, but he was not alone: there were two gentlemen, and the peasants were wondering which of them was the landlord of Walsingham.
The gentlemen entered the church at a leisurely walk, and stopping at the very back of the pews, almost touching the wall, took the vacant seats, and began to look cautiously, leisurely at the modest decoration of the church. Two country lads immediately brought the gentlemen a pew made for them: the lords smiled, thanked them, and moved to it, inviting the obliging little ones to sit down beside them. The gentlemen seemed unwilling to draw attention to themselves and behaved quietly and modestly.
Both gentlemen were dressed in fine, expensive travelling suits, which made them an incredible curiosity in the eyes of the unpretentious, old rags clad Walsinghamians. The lords were quite young (Pastor Glowford, a judge of such things, gave them no more than thirty-five years of age), handsome and dapperly dressed. The peasants gazed at them with rapt attention and whispered, but the pastor called them loudly to return to the service and to sing a hymn of praise to the Lord.
The congregation, as one, rose from their pews. The lords who had arrived did likewise. The poor people had realised that it was unseemly to gaze at the noble lords and now carefully averted their curious glances, but the girls continued to sneak glances at the gentlemen. The three old women looked at the lords shamelessly and frowned, thinking that this must be the way the rich birds dressed, which, of course, they had never seen before.
One of the lords looked round the church and the congregation, scrutinising their faces.
– Who is that grey-haired old man with the stick? – he whispered to one of the young men standing nearby.
– That's Clif, our watchman," the young man replied cautiously, pleased and honoured to be spoken to by such a noble man.
– Watchman? And what does he guard? – The lord asked with a chuckle.
– The old mill," replied the lad.
– And who is that lady surrounded by children?
– That's our laundress Lilith.
– All those children are hers?
– Yes, she has eight children.
Of course, the country lad had no idea that a polite and respectful "sir" was required.
The gentleman smiled and continued looking at the villagers.
– How many children are there in the village? – He asked again.
– God knows. A lot! – The boy replied, shrugging his shoulders. – Ask the pastor, he's an educated man, not like us.
The curious gentleman's companion grinned: it seemed to him that he was in the Middle Ages, for the peasants were so horribly dressed, and the dilapidated church so poor.
– It seems to me, my friend, that with the manor you have become a great burden," he whispered to his noble friend.
– Yes, that's true," he said with a mocking smile.
– But you can change all that. These people seem to be no different from medieval manners.
