The next morning, unnoticed by any of the Walsinghams, the gentlemen left for London.

After vespers the pastor unveiled the forthcoming reconstruction of the church and called for volunteers, and the grateful parishioners responded eagerly, willing to help in any way they could, even women. Three lads and seven fairly young men volunteered for the work itself, including Christine's admirer, John Tiley, who secretly hoped that Pastor Glowford would protectorate him over Christine.

Christine waited for the right moment to tell her father of her intentions to go to London but decided that she would first save up the money for the journey, and then, using this as an argument, she would make her plans known to her father. To this purpose she had been wandering about Walsingham since morning to find some work, but she was greatly disappointed: the poor people of Walsingham had no money, and as payment for the girl's labour they offered food, coarse cloth, or old shoes. They had not a cent of money. In the evening Christine walked home frustrated, tired, and depressed at the thought that she would have to live her whole life in a remote village she hated. She cried all night and fell asleep only in the morning, and a couple of hours later she was awakened by Catherine for breakfast and matins. Christine reluctantly got up, washed her face, dressed, brushed her hair and sat down on the mattress beside Cassie.

– How are you, Cassie? – Christine asked her younger sister, hiding her beautiful dark hair under an old white bonnet.

– Good," Cassie said with a tired smile, glad that Christine had spoken to her, for the sick girl instinctively felt that her sister disliked her. – Had the birds arrived yet? – Cassie asked her.

She was tired of lying in bed, and Chris, for her part, was tired of carrying the night potty for her little sister, though Catherine rarely asked her to do so.

– Yes, they're here," Christine replied patiently.

Despite yesterday's unsuccessful search for a job, she was in a good, even mood.

– What kind?

– There are lots of them, big and small. And they all sing and chirp in different ways.

– How do they chirp?

– Well, each one in its own way.

– Chick-chick-chick-chick-chick?

– That, too. But soon you will hear them," said Christine, rising to her feet.

– Will you tell me a story? – Cassie asked her.

– No, Catherine doesn't like stories, you know that.

– And we won't tell her.

Christine smiled.

– "Come with me, Chris! – Catherine called as she entered the house, and then turned to her sick sister: – "And you lie down and don't get up.

– Okay," Cassie told her a little sadly.

The sisters headed for the church.

To the great surprise of the parishioners, Dr Morris attended the matins (the whole village knew that he was treating Cassie), but many wondered what he was doing here. Did he want to join their hymns and prayers? After all, there are only godless people in the cities!

But Mr. Morris was not embarrassed by the attention; he handed Pastor Glowford a letter from the Count, and sat down in one of the last pews.

– Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, our landlord has given me a letter, and I am now going to read it to you, so listen carefully and keep quiet," the pastor announced loudly.

Only the pastor and his two eldest daughters could read fluently and expressively in the whole village, but the rest of the Walsingham, though they attended the pastor's courses regularly, could read only syllables.

– "Reverend Glowford, I thank you and your congregation and the warm welcome you have given me, but business in London does not permit me to linger here. I left Rivershold this morning for London…