ed a slackness towards new undertakings, a gradual putting off of
old ones, a training of those, dependent on his counsel, to go alone, a
preference for being alone in the evening, a greater habit of stillness
and contemplation.

September had come, and he had merrily sent off two happy boy-sportsmen
with the keeper, seeing them over the first field himself, and leaning
against the gate, as he sent them away in convulsions of laughing at his
droll auguries. The second was a Sunday, a lovely day of clear deep blue
sky, and rich sunshine laughing upon the full wealth of harvest
fields--part fallen before the hand of the reaper, part waving in their
ripe glowing beauty, to which he loved to liken Honora's hair--part in
noble redundant shocks of corn in full season. Brooks used afterwards to
tell how he overtook the squire slowly strolling to church on that
beauteous autumnal morning, and how he paused to remark on the glory of
the harvest, and to add, 'Keep the big barn clear, Brooks--let us have
all the women and children in for the supper this time--and I say--send
the spotted heifer down to-morrow to old Boycotts, instead of his cow
that died. With such a crop as this, one can stand something. And,'
said Brooks, 'Thank God for it! was as plain written on his face as ever
I saw!'

It was the first Sunday in the month, and there was full service.
Hiltonbury Church had one of those old-fashioned altar-rails which form
three sides of a square, and where it was the custom that at the words
'Draw near with faith,' the earliest communicants should advance to the
rail and remain till their place was wanted by others, and that the last
should not return to their seats till the service was concluded. Mr.
Charlecote had for many years been always the first parishioner to walk
slowly up the matted aisle, and kneel beside the wall, under the cumbrous
old tables of Commandments. There, on this day, he knelt as usual, and
harvest labours tending to thin the number of communicants, the same who
came up first remained to the end, joined their voices in the Eucharistic
Lord's Prayer and Angelic Hymn, and bowed their heads at the blessing of
the peace that passeth all understanding.

It was not till the rest were moving away, that the vicar and his clerk
remarked that the squire had not risen. Another look, and it was plain
that he had sunk somewhat forward on his folded arms, and was only
supported by the rail and the wall. The