– What do the villagers live by?

The maid entered, carrying a tray with a teapot, cups and a large dish of toast. She placed the set on a low table in front of the parson, poured a cup of fragrant, freshly brewed tea and quickly left.

– Farming, Your Lordship: growing cereals, fruit, vegetables, looking after the livestock, fishing, baking bread, and in the summer tending the potato field. But two months ago, our mill went out of order and the peasants have to grind grain by hand," replied the pastor.

"What a disgusting Middle Ages!" – Lord Draymore thought with disgust, only now realising the enormous amount of money that would have to be invested in the development of this remote corner of the countryside. And the waste of money was not to his liking.

– Sir, our village loses people every winter, with more and more single mothers and orphans. There are very few young men left, no more than twelve, and they are mostly girls who have no one to marry, for there are no single men…" The parson thought of his own daughters. – Forgive me, sir, but I cannot stay long: my youngest daughter is ill, and I must be near her.

– Miss Cassandra? – Viscount Wilworth asked in surprise. – 'But what is the matter with her? We had the honour of seeing her after the service, and she looked perfectly well.

– Cassie is in poor health," replied the parson, not wishing to go into details.

– I will send my personal physician with you," said the Viscount, for some reason excited by the thought of Cassie's indisposition.

The Count of Draymore cast a mocking glance at his friend.

– I don't think it is necessary," the parson protested, as he was not comfortable with disturbing the gentlemen with his personal problems.

– Don't mind, reverend," the Count told him in an unappealing tone. – I am sure there is no doctor in your village to see your daughter.

– You're right, sir, we don't have a doctor, but I know a little about medicine," the parson said quietly, clutching his shabby hat.

– It is settled: Mr. Morris will go with you," the Count told him firmly. – But I do not wish to detain you, so I suggest we get down to business. I see you have brought something with you?

The parson readily unfolded on the lid of a large black piano, placed in the middle of the drawing-room, his cotton-board with a drawing of the church.

– First of all, Your Lordship, I would like your help in rebuilding the church: it is a symbol of our faith, but we do not have the money to rebuild it," the pastor said carefully, watching the expression on the landlord's face. – I realise that we dare to trouble you with our troubles, but you are our only hope for the salvation of Walsingham.

Count Draymore scrutinised the drawing of the church.

– It would be a good idea to tear down your old church and build a new one," he said firmly. – It would cost many times more to repair the old one than to build a new one.

– How? Tear it down? – The pastor was horrified. – This church has been here for a hundred and ninety-three years! To tear it down would be a sacrilege!

"How deeply they are hanging on to their ruins! – thought the count with a sneer. – How these poor people love their church! You bet, in such poverty there is nothing else to cling to than faith."

– You do not wish it to be torn down? – he asked the parson with a faint smile.

– Absolutely! Our church is our everything! – He exclaimed fervently, fearing that the lord would indeed tear it down.

– Colin, don't be a sacrilegious man," said Viscount Wilworth gravely to his friend. – 'Spare no expense and restore the church.