The Major had a blister, which he had exhibited at least four times to the company, and had refused to go further; and as they came to the outskirts of the village, volunteered to go and look for shelter, if the two would wait for him at a stile that led across fields to the old church.
The scene was rather like the setting of the last act in a melodrama of a theater on the Surrey side of the Thames--the act in which the injured heroine, with her child, sinks down fainting as the folk are going to church in the old village on a June evening among the trees--leading up to moonlight effects and reunion.

There was no organ to play "off," but the bells were an excellent substitute, and it was these that presently melted the heart of Gertie.
When the Major had disappeared, limping, the two climbed over the stile and sat down with their bundles under the hedge, but they presently found that they had chosen something of a thoroughfare.

Voices came along presently, grew louder, and stopped as the speakers climbed the stile.

The first pair was of a boy and girl, who instantly clasped again mutual waists, and went off up the path across the field to the churchyard without noticing the two tramps; their heads were very near together.
Then other couples came along, old and young, and twice a trio--one, two young men in black, who skirmished on either side of a very sedate girl in white; one, two girls who shoved one another, and giggled, walking in step three yards behind another young man with his hat on one side, who gloried in being talked at and pretended to be rapt in abstraction.

Then some children came; then a family--papa walking severely apart in a silk hat, and mamma, stout and scarlet-faced, in the midst of the throng.
Finally there came along a very old Darby and Joan, who with many Yorkshire ejaculations helped one another over the stile, and moved on with bent heads, scolding one another affectionately.