" gravely inquired Mr. Carlyle, as
Barbara turned with them toward the church, and he walked by her side
and his sister's, for he had an objection, almost invincible as a
Frenchman's, to give his arm to two ladies.

"Of course," replied Barbara. "First impression is everything, you know,
and the earl and his daughter will be coming to church."

"Suppose she should not be in peacock's plumes?" cried Miss Carlyle,
with an imperturbable face.

"Oh! But she is sure to be--if you mean richly dressed," cried Barbara,
hastily.

"Or, suppose they should not come to church?" laughed Mr. Carlyle. "What
a disappointment to the bonnets and feathers!"

"After all, Barbara, what are they to us, or we to them?" resumed Miss
Carlyle. "We may never meet. We insignificant West Lynne gentry shall
not obtrude ourselves into East Lynne. It would scarcely be fitting--or
be deemed so by the earl and Lady Isabel."

"That's just how papa went on," grumbled Barbara. "He caught sight of
this bonnet yesterday; and when, by way of excuse, I said I had it to
call on them, he asked whether I thought the obscure West Lynne families
would venture to thrust their calls on Lord Mount Severn, as though they
were of the county aristocracy. It was the feather that put him out."

"It is a very long one," remarked Miss Carlyle, grimly surveying it.

Barbara was to sit in the Carlyle pew that day, for she thought the
farther she was from the justice the better; there was no knowing but he
might take a sly revengeful cut at the feather in the middle of service,
and so dock its beauty. Scarcely were they seated when some strangers
came quietly up the aisle--a gentleman who limped as he walked, with a
furrowed brow and gray hair; and a young lady. Barbara looked round
with eagerness, but looked away again; they could not be the expected
strangers, the young lady's dress was too plain--a clear-looking muslin
dress for a hot summer's day. But the old beadle in his many-caped coat,
was walking before them sideways with his marshalling baton, and he
marshaled them into the East Lynne pew, unoccupied for so many years.

"Who in the world can they be?" whispered Barbara to Miss Carlyle. "That
old stupid is always making a mistake and putting people into the wrong
places."

"The earl and Lady Isabel."

The color flushed into Barbara's face, and she stared at Miss Corny.
"Why, she has no silks, and no feathers, and no anything!" cried
Barbara. "She's plainer