The Gold that Glitters | Page 9

pleasure of her elevation above all her old associates.
It was rather poor fare.
When, after assisting Mrs Jane to undress, with sundry snubbings from
Millicent, and some not ill-natured laughter from her young mistress at
Jenny's blunders, she was at last free to lie down to rest herself, she was
conscious of a little doubt, whether the appellation of "Mrs Jenny," the
higher place at the table, and the distinction of being nobody in the
drawing-room, were quite as agreeable as plenty to eat and drink, and
liberty to run into the garden, dance and sing whenever she chose to do
so.
The Sunday which followed was spent as the Holy Day was wont to be
spent by Cavalier families who were respectable and not riotous.
The Lanes were members of the Church of England, but the Church
had been abolished, so far as it lay in the power of those in authority at
that time. Many of the clergy were turned out of their livings--it cannot
be denied that some of them had deserved it--and the Book of Common
Prayer was stringently suppressed. No man dared to use it now, except
secretly. Those solemn and beautiful prayers, offered up by many
generations, and endeared to their children as only childhood's
memories can endear, might not be uttered, save in fear and trembling,
in the dead of night, or in hushed whispers in the day-time.
Early in the morning, before the world was astir, a few of Colonel
Lane's family met the chaplain in the private chapel, and there in low
voices the morning prayers were read, and the responses breathed.
There was no singing nor chanting; that would have been too much to
dare. The men who had themselves suffered so much for holding secret
conventicles, and preferring one style of prayer to another, now drove
their fellow-countrymen into the very same acts, and imposed on them

the same sufferings.
This secret service over, the family met at breakfast, after which they
drove in the great family coach to Darlaston Church. The present Vicar,
if he may so be termed, was an independent minister. These ministers,
who alone were now permitted to minister, were of three kinds.
Some were true Christians--often very ripely spiritual ones--who
preached Christ, and let politics alone. Another class were virulent
controversialists, who preached politics, and too often let Christianity
alone. And a third consisted of those concealed Jesuits whom Rome
had sent over for the purpose of stirring up dissension, some of whom
professed to be clergy of the Church, and some Nonconformists.
The gentleman just now officiating at Darlaston belonged to the second
class. His sermon was a violent diatribe against kings in general, and
"Charles Stuart" in particular, to which the few Royalists in his
congregation had to listen with what patience they might.
Jenny Lavender did not carry away a word of it. Her head was full of
the honour and glory of driving in the Bentley Hall coach (wherein she
occupied the lowest seat by the door), and of sitting in the Bentley Hall
pew.
She only hoped that Ruth Merston and Dolly Campion, and all the
other girls of her acquaintance, were there to see her.
They drove back in the same order. Then came dinner.
As Jenny took her seat at the table she perceived that a stranger was
present, who sat on the right hand of Mrs Lane, and to whom so much
deference was paid that she guessed he must be somebody of note. He
was dressed in a suit of black plush, slashed with yellow satin, and a
black beaver hat; for gentlemen then always wore their hats at dinner.
His manners charmed Jenny exceedingly. Whenever he spoke to either
of the ladies, he always lifted his plumed hat for a moment. Even her
model gentleman, Robin Featherstone, had never treated her with that
courtesy.

Jenny was still further enchanted when she heard Mrs Lane say to him,
"My Lord."
So interested and excited was she that she actually presumed to ask
Millicent, in a whisper, who the stranger was. Millicent only
demolished her by a look. The steward, on the other side of Jenny, was
more accommodating.
"That is my Lord Wilmot," he said; "an old friend of the Colonel."
Jenny would have liked to ask a dozen questions, but she did not dare.
She already expected a scolding from Millicent, and received it before
an hour was over.
"How dare you, Jane Lavender," demanded Jenny's superior officer,
"let your voice be heard at the Colonel's table?"
"If you please, Mrs Millicent," answered Jenny, who was rather
frightened, "I think only Mr Wright heard it."
"You think! Pray, what business have you to think? Mrs Jane does not
pay you for thinking, I'm sure."
Jenny