When I actually entered the village, there were so many pretty dwellings, and they all looked equally inviting, that I was undecided where to open an attack. However, I settled on one that had a couple of hollyhocks, some late pinks, and a black-currant bush growing out of the top of the garden wall, while a free-and-easy grape-vine, a tall monthly rose, and some clematis waved arms of welcome to me from the front of the cottage.
Just as I approached the gate, a pleasant-faced woman came out of the door and walked down the garden path between the French marigolds that edged the flower-beds. She was the only sign of life in the place (apart from a few belated hens, who, being averse to early rising, I suppose, had determined to take time by the forelock, and were catching the historic early worm overnight).
I felt that the good lady’s appearance was a distinct indication that Fate had decided I must have my tea there. Nevertheless, there were signs that she was bound on some important errand; instead of the ordinary sun-bonnet or battered hat that is the usual weekday headgear among our hills, she had donned a carefully-brushed though somewhat rusty black bonnet, and a black beaded mantle of unquestionable antiquity, both worn with the air of her Sunday best.
“Good evening,” I began. “I’m sorry to trouble you, but I wonder if you can tell me where——”
“Th’ chapel?” replied the woman before I could finish my sentence. “Why, of course you can’t find ’un. But you jes’ come ’long wi’ me. I’m going there meself, an’ though we’m a bit late, it don’t matter; my man’ll be keeping a seat fur me, and ther’ll be room, sure ’nough, for ’ee to squeeze in too. I do al’ays tell ’un our chapel didn’t oughter belong where ’tis. No place o’ worship was ever more hid out o’ road than ourn. Yet my man do say ’tis clear ’nough to see ’un if you’m comin’ ’long the _lower_ road; for there ’tis all to once. But as I say to him, the folk don’t all a-come down ’long the lower road; an’ if you come _up_ ’long, why, there’s no chapel to be seen, and then where’m you to? What I do say is, the way o’ salvation oughter be so plain that th’ wayfarin’ man, though a _fool_, can’t lose un. An’ now here be you to prove me very words!”