– Don't ever do that again, Cassie! We were so worried about you! – Christine said reproachfully to her sister as they went home.

At home Cassie's feet were washed, she was laid on a mattress and wrapped in a woollen biting blanket.

– What about London? You haven't changed your mind? – Catherine asked Chris when they sat down to lunch.

Lunch was hot wheat porridge with a slice of black bread.

At her sister's mention of London, the image of the handsome Count of Draymore immediately flashed into Christine's mind, and she suddenly felt even more offended at how freely he could travel around England, while she, a poor peasant girl, had no money even to travel to London. But in spite of everything, and especially now that the Count had gone there, London attracted Christine even more: a tiny hope of meeting the landlord grew in her heart.

– No, I haven't changed my mind," Christine replied, as she ate the porridge that was the Glowford's daily diet and which she was already sick of.

– What about the money for the journey? – Kate asked, knowing full well that Christine would earn nothing in the village.

– Nothing yet, but I'll get the money, you'll see," she said, more determined than ever. – I'll leave here.

– Don't you think your futile endeavours are a sign from God that you must not leave Walsingham? – Catherine suggested.

– No, I don't. It is only you and father who see signs in everything. I don't think God dislikes us so much as to wish us into the poverty in which we already live.

Christine finished her porridge and went outside to wash her plate and spoon, and when she came back Catherine was already clearing the table.

– Sweep the floor," she said to Christine.

She clenched her teeth tightly: she didn't like to clean the house, and always did it by force, but Catherine looked at her sternly, the way she always did when Christine was stubborn, and that look made Christine go about her assigned chores. Christine sighed unhappily and began to sweep the floor, careful not to get any dirt on Cassie, who was lying on the mattress. Her soul was full of resentment at her older sister and the fact that she had never made Cassie clean the house. Their younger sister did nothing but sleep, eat, play and walk, a fact that depressed Christine, who felt the weight of her sister's authority. The pastor did not interfere much in the relations between his daughters, and he was more interested in the affairs of his congregation than in those of his house. Cassie was the only one he paid as much attention to as he could.

– Tomorrow we'll go to the river to wash," said Catherine, folding her father's dirty dresses and clothes on top of the chest.

Christine murmured something in reply and went back into her thoughts, so that she could bear the hardships of life more easily.

– I want to go to the river too! – Cassie said she liked to run along the bank and throw stones into the water.

– No, darling, you're not quite well yet," Kate told her. – You're going to stay home with Dad.

– Daddy promised to make me a new doll, but he didn't! – Cassie frowned and crossed her arms across her chest resentfully.

– He's just forgotten: he's got a lot to do at church now," Kate reassured her.

– Katie, can we sing about the chickens? – Cassie asked with a smile.

– No, that's not a good song. Let's sing a hymn.

Christine rolled her eyes and her beautiful lips spread into a smile full of sarcasm.

"What a bigot she is! Thinks there's nothing else in the world but her religion!" – she thought mockingly as she swept the floor, then decided to mend a hole in the hem of her dress, which was constantly tearing because of the old fabric.

– Chris, have you swept yet? – Kate turned to her.

Christine looked up and saw her sister fiddling at the dining room table.

– Almost, why? – She said.

– Father didn't have lunch today, so we have to take it to the church," Catherine said.

She filled a clay pot with porridge, put two slices of black bread beside it, and wrapped it all in a coarse white cloth.

– Why me again? – Christine asked unhappily.

– If you don't want it, I'll carry it myself, and you can sit with Cassie.

– No, I'd rather go to church. – She was startled by the possibility of spending time alone with her sick sister.

She quickly put the broom in the corner, put on her shoes, grabbed a bundle of food and left the house.

Cassie suddenly looked at Catherine with a look full of sadness and sorrow.

– Katie, why doesn't she love me? – She asked quietly, tears welling up in her eyes.

Catherine smiled affectionately at her, put aside her work on the dirty clothes and sat down on her knees next to her sister.

– 'Well, what have you come up with, sweetheart? Chris loves you, she just has a very bad temper," she said, stroking Cassie's hair.

She knew Cassie was right, but she was a child and extremely vulnerable, so she was better off not knowing that Christine couldn't forgive her for her mother's death.

– Why? – Cassie asked, looking at her sister with her blue eyes: even during her illness she looked like an angel.

– Because she doesn't pray much and doesn't like to read the Scriptures," Catherine explained to her. – But you and I are good Christians and love the Scriptures, aren't we?

– We do.

– All right, do you want to sing a little song about chickens?

– I don't want to… Nobody loves me but you and Daddy! – Cassie wept bitterly, and Kate tried to comfort her, but her soul was torn by her favourite sister's cries, for she loved her as a mother loves her child.

Mr. Pilough, the architect invited from London, inspected the church, made measurements and calculations, drew the blueprints, walked round the building a hundred times, spoke to Pastor Glowford about the commencement of the work, and left for the Earl's estate, where he was staying while the parish church was being restored.

When Christine brought her father a bundle of food, the parson had already finished his grammar lesson and was preparing for vespers. Today he was busy: he personally pointed out to Mr. Pilough every crack in the walls, the nearly collapsed rim and the leaking spots in the church roof. He asked the architect whether the renovation would not be too ruinous for the noble landlord, but he told him that the Count had ordered that no expense should be spared. At vespers the parson announced to the congregation the joyous news of the Count of Draymore's generosity, to which the peasants immediately clapped their hands and enthusiastically raised a hymn to the Saviour.

In the evening the Glowfords were visited by Mr. Morris: he examined Cassie, and announced with satisfaction that her health was recovering, in spite of her strange walk to the old mill. When the doctor returned to Rivershold, he and Mr. Pilough wrote up the reports of their work and sent them to their employers. Mr. Morris, in a rather lengthy letter, reported to Viscount Wilworth on the state of Miss Cassandra Glowford's health, explaining in detail his thoughts on her recovery and the improvement of the family's living conditions. He also mentioned a couple of times that the family's beds were ordinary straw bunks, placed directly on the floor. He could not keep silent about Cassie's "escape" to the mill and the fact that during those hours the girl was dressed in only a nightgown and barefoot, and that he had advised Catherine to bathe his young patient. Mr. Pilough, on the other hand, wrote to Lord Draymore with his reasonings as to the possibility of rebuilding the church, and informed him of the amount the work would cost the Earl, and soon afterwards received a letter in which the Count informed him that the necessary building materials for the church had been bought and brought to Walsingham as soon as possible.