he parson and his family.
These causes together brought a crowd to the vicarage-gate on that
Sunday morning, and it was quite clear that the new chapel would be
full, and that Mr. Puddleham's first Sunday would be a success. And
the chapel, of course, had a bell,--a bell which was declared by Mrs.
Fenwick to be the hoarsest, loudest, most unmusical, and ill-founded
miscreant of a bell that was ever suspended over a building for the
torture of delicate ears. It certainly was a loud and brazen bell;
but Mr. Fenwick expressed his opinion that there was nothing amiss
with it. When his wife declared that it sounded as though it came
from the midst of the shrubs at their own front gate, he reminded
her that their own church bells sounded as though they came from the
lower garden. That one sound should be held by them to be musical
and the other abominable, he declared to be a prejudice. Then there
was a great argument about the bells, in which Mrs. Fenwick, and
Mary Lowther, and Harry Gilmore were all against the Vicar. And,
throughout the discussion, it was known to them all that there were
no ears in the parish to which the bells were so really odious as
they were to the ears of the Vicar himself. In his heart of hearts
he hated the chapel, and, in spite of all his endeavours to the
contrary, his feelings towards Mr. Puddleham were not those which
the Christian religion requires one neighbour to bear to another.
But he made the struggle, and for some weeks past had not said a
word against Mr. Puddleham. In regard to the Marquis the thing was
different. The Marquis should have known better, and against the
Marquis he did say a great many words.

They began to ring the bell on that Sunday morning before ten
o'clock. Mrs. Fenwick was still sitting at the breakfast-table, with
the windows open, when the sound was first heard,--first heard, that
is, on that morning. She looked at Mary, groaned, and put her hands
to her ears. The Vicar laughed, and walked about the room.

"At what time do they begin?" said Mary.

"Not till eleven," said Mrs. Fenwick. "There, it wants a quarter to
ten now, and they mean to go on with that music for an hour and a
quarter."

"We shall be keeping them company by-and-by," said the Vicar.

"The poor old church bells won't be heard through it," said Mrs.
Fenwick.

Mrs. Fenwick was in the habit of going to the village school for half
an hour before the service on Sunday mornings, and on this morn