It had a flowery churchyard, and around it a white paling, keeping in the dead, and keeping out all roaming cattle.
There was a small cracked bell, and the swallows forever circled above the eaves and in and out of the belfry.

Without the yard, beneath the oaks, were a horserack and a shed for carriages.

To-day there were horses at the rack and tied beneath the trees; coaches, chaises, and curricles, not a few, beneath the shed and scattered through the oak grove.

The church within was all rustle and colour.

Saint Margaret's had rarely seen such a gathering, or such a wholly amicable one, for to-day all the pews were of one party.