While Mr. Morris was in the house, Christine again escaped into solitude: she sat on her favourite stone, under the oak, and prayed quietly. No matter how she felt about her little sister, Christine loved her, and was as much afraid as anyone that she might lose her. Suddenly the girl heard someone's footsteps, and then someone sat down on the rock beside her. Christine opened her eyes, raised her head and saw John Tiley, the village sharpener, beside her. He was one of her admirers and had asked for her hand, but, like all who dared, had been refused. John loved Christine and hoped that she would change her mind and marry him: he was a good-looking, hard-working, young, healthy fellow, but Christine did not regard him as a bridegroom, much less as a future husband.

– I heard about your sister. I am sorry," said the lad, not knowing what words were required in such a delicate situation, and he could not speak nicely, so he often kept silent rather than spoke.

The girl answered nothing and turned her face away from him.

"How disgusting our country men are! Unhewn, rude, ugly, uneducated! Not like that count. His hands are so well-tended, so fair. And John's hands are like big potatoes, and he wants to touch me with his ugly, rough fingers? Never! I'd rather die an old maid than marry him or anyone like him! – Christine thought in disgust as she looked at John's hands lying in his lap. – And his face? He would only scare away the crows in the field! And that lord has such a handsome face! Why was I born here and not in some lady's family? Then the Count would have fallen in love with me and taken me as his wife… And his estate? This Rivershold is a sight to be admired! The paved walks, green fields with cut grass, big fountains, a lake with red fish, a huge house, probably as big as the king's. Ah, if only I hadn't been born here, but there, in the town where he came from!"

– Chris, if there's anything I can do to help…" John began again, trying to take her hand, but she pulled it away and gave him an angry, disgusted look.

– Go away, John! I don't want anything from you! – she said sharply, not deeming it necessary to show any delicacy to his unreciprocated feelings.

The lad looked at his beloved with longing and pain in his eyes, rose from the stone and, lowering his head, wandered home to his sharpening machine, perplexed by the behaviour of the object of his sincere love.

"What if I go to town? I can work and have good money. I'll send some of the money to Catherine and Cassie. After all, I'm young and healthy, I can cook, clean, do laundry, sew things. Maybe I can find a decent, rich husband there… It's a pity that lord will stay here. Yes, I'll speak to father today… No, not today: he's so worried about Cassie… Poor Cassie! I'll tell father when she's well, and in the meantime, I'll try to save up some money to get to the nearest town," Christine decided, when she saw in the city the ghostly hope of a good income and a decent life. The girl was not at all wicked, but decent, but she was drawn upwards, to a world where she would not have to sleep on a hard mattress, and where she could earn money to help her family.

When Christine returned home, Cassandra felt a little better: Mr. Morris had given her a tasty mixture and some powder, leaving three portions for the future. He told the pastor that the cause of Cassie's indisposition was a bad cold, but fortunately not fatal, and promised to visit her every day.

The pastor thanked the doctor warmly for his help and said he would pray God to reward him for his labours, and asked Mr. Morris to send his thanks also to Viscount Wilworth, who had insisted on his coming to see Cassie.

After a humble dinner, passed in silence, the Glowfords listened to a piece of Scripture, prayed, snuffed out the candle, and went to bed.

During the night Cassie breathed heavily, but her sleep was full of tranquillity. In the morning Mr. Morris again visited the sick woman, and brought a large basket of fruit for her, which had been given through him by Viscount Wilworth.

After matins, Pastor Glowford announced to the congregation Lord Draymore's plans to restore the church and rebuild their homes, while colourfully describing his short visit to Rivershold. The peasants were overjoyed: the story of the well-respected pastor assured them that the new landlord was a fine man and that he would take care of Walsingham. The landlord's secretary had come yesterday after the morning service and had written down the peasants' complaints in a special book, and assured the Walsingham people that the Count would look into them himself.

Cassie slept all day and did not wake until evening, tired and sad, but when Catherine gave her a large red apple, one of those sent by Viscount Wilworth, she cheered up and asked her sister to tell her a story.

– Sweetheart, why do you want these silly fairy tales? I'd rather read you the Scriptures instead, they're better than fairy tales," Catherine told her gently: she didn't approve of fictitious magic stories, so there were no books in the Glowford house except those containing religious texts.

– But I want to hear a fairy tale! – exclaimed Cassie capriciously, always hearing about them from the village children.

– A fairy tale is full of deceit and lies, and God doesn't like lies. He loves only the truth," Kate answered patiently. – But I can sing you a song, if you like.

– Yes, about the chickens! – Cassie said cheerfully.

Catherine did not approve of this "nonsense", but wishing to give her sick sister pleasure, this time strayed from her high principles not to sing such "vulgar" songs.