"I must keep a stronger hold of
myself."
The church bells began to ring, and I determined to go to mass. I wanted
to go alone and much as I grudged every minute of Martin's company which
I lost, I was almost glad when, on going into the boudoir with my missal
in my hand, I found him at a table covered with papers and heard him
say:
"Helloa! See these letters and telegrams? Sunday as it is I've got to
answer them."
Our church was a little chapel-of-ease on the edge of my husband's
estate, opened, after centuries of neglect, by the bad Lord Raa, in his
regenerate days, for the benefit of the people of his own village. It
was very sweet to see their homely faces as they reverently bowed and
rose, and even to hear their creachy voices when they joined in the
singing of the Gloria.
Following the gospel there was a sermon on the words "Lead us not into
temptation but deliver us from evil." The preacher was a young curate,
the brother of my husband's coachman; and it occurred to me that he
could know very little of temptation for himself, but the instruction he
gave us was according to the doctrine of our Church, as I had received
it from the Reverend Mother and the Cardinals who used to hold retreats
at the convent.
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