s, and
daughters, opened a door to admit us. Mrs. Petulengro, however, appeared
to feel not the least embarrassment, but tripped along the aisle with the
greatest nonchalance. We passed under the pulpit, in which stood the
clergyman in his white surplice, and reached the middle of the church,
where we were confronted by the sexton dressed in long blue coat, and
holding in his hand a wand. This functionary motioned towards the lower
end of the church where were certain benches, partly occupied by poor
people and boys. Mrs. Petulengro, however, with a toss of her head,
directed her course to a magnificent pew, which was unoccupied, which she
opened and entered, followed closely by Tawno Chikno, Mr. Petulengro, and
myself. The sexton did not appear by any means to approve of the
arrangement, and as I stood next the door laid his finger on my arm, as
if to intimate that myself and companions must quit our aristocratical
location. I said nothing, but directed my eyes to the clergyman, who
uttered a short and expressive cough; the sexton looked at him for a
moment, and then, bowing his head, closed the door--in a moment more the
music ceased. I took up a prayer-book, on which was engraved an earl's
coronet. The clergyman uttered, "I will arise, and go to my father."
England's sublime liturgy had commenced.

Oh, what feelings came over me on finding myself again in an edifice
devoted to the religion of my country! I had not been in such a place I
cannot tell for how long--certainly not for years; and now I had found my
way there again, it appeared as if I had fallen asleep in the pew of the
old church of pretty D . . . I had occasionally done so when a child,
and had suddenly woke up. Yes, surely I had been asleep and had woken
up; but, no! alas, no! I had not been asleep--at least not in the old
church--if I had been asleep I had been walking in my sleep, struggling,
striving, learning, and unlearning in my sleep. Years had rolled away
whilst I had been asleep--ripe fruit had fallen, green fruit had come on
whilst I had been asleep--how circumstances had altered, and above all
myself, whilst I had been asleep. No, I had not been asleep in the old
church! I was in a pew it is true, but not the pew of black leather, in
which I sometimes fell asleep in days of yore, but in a strange pew; and
then my companions, they were no longer those of days of yore. I was no
longer with my respectable father and mother, and my