"Adam! Hi! A word wi' ye!"

Adam came down the nave somewhat reluctantly, his countenance showing signs of evident preoccupation and harassment.

"What now?" he demanded, in a hoarse whisper-'"Can't ye see I'm busy?"

"O' coorse you're busy--I knows you're busy,"--returned Bainton, soothingly--"I ain't goin' to keep ye back nohow. All I wants to know is, ef it's true?"

"Ef what's true?"

"This 'ere, wot the folks are all a' clicketin' about,--that Miss Vancourt 'as got a party o' Lunnon fash'nables stayin' at the Manor, an' that they're comin' to church this marnin'?"

"True enough!" said Frost--"Don't ye see me a-settin' chairs for 'em near the poopit? There'll be what's called a 'crush' I can tell ye!- -for there ain't none too much room in the church at the best o' times for our own poor folk, but when rich folks comes as well, we'll be put to it to seat 'em. Mister Primmins, he comes down to me nigh 'arf an hour ago, an' he sez, sez he: 'Miss Vancourt 'as friends from Lunnon stayin' with 'er, an' they're comin' to church this marnin'. 'Ope you'll find room?' An' I sez to 'im, 'I'll do my best, but there ain't no reserve seats in the 'ouse o' God, an' them as comes fust gits fust served.' Ay, it's true enough they're a- comin', but 'ow it got round in the village, I don't know. I ain't sed a wurrd."