The Village by the River

Sunday

R SA

of a man who had made me his heir by a fluke, and if he had lived an hour longer would have altered his will, seemed humbugging, to my mind. Also the funeral service, beautiful as it appears to those who can believe in it, means absolutely nothing to me; and I have scruples about appearing as if it did. Two surprises awaited me at Rudham: first, that by the same train by which I arrived Mrs. and Miss Webster got out upon the platform;

e way! Then I was handed over to the village blacksmith, and, under the shelter of his nam

d with the solid simplicity of a hundred years ago. A grandfather clock ticks solemnly in the corner, two oak chairs stand on either side of the fireplace, with down cushions in print covers on the seats-a concession to modern luxury. In place of the cheap modern sideboard an open oak cupboard, whereon are displayed my dinner and tea-things, furnishes one side of the room, leaving just sufficient space for two Windsor chairs, polished to such a dangerous brig

n progress like a pretty old fresco exposed to the light, and I feel myself like a traitor in the camp. If I decide to live here I shall probably be the motive force that will set the ball of progress rolling. Life here is almost stagnant, I fancy, unlike the river, which runs swift and strong along the side of the village. It separates from, rather than connects it with the outer world, for there are dangerous currents which make it not too safe for navigation; and to cross it you must either go to the ferry, half a mile off, or make for the bridge at Nowell four miles away. I found out all this by a stroll after tea, last evening, and a gossip with my new acqu

Now the last rector were a real gentleman! You could please yourself about goin

s the attenti

s and children, but it's us well ones he can't leave alone. His work's never done, as

ly can't

ublic there! Then, come next week, he'll be droppin' into one cottage or another about such time as the man comes in from work, and it'ull be, 'So and so, I'm

they?'

ired of being told of it, I think, and goes just to pacif

are distinctly in a minority. I was nearly being carried there forcibly myself to-night; and I only escaped, I believe, because Mrs

le firmness. 'John and I lock up the house and hide the key under the mat, in case y

you can leave the key in th

re not there this morning, I'm thinking, and the

son. How could I grieve the kindly eyes that loo

orried, Mrs. Macdonald, and my hea

l grieve the good man, if he knows you've come. And there's a-m

u mean by th

But it's what my John and I call Mr. Curzon,

t of show to the others?'

that John nor I are much given to talk. But when a neighbour

r or later, though it won't be at church to-nig

s they are; but I find that I shall have little independent income apart from the property. To keep things in really working repair I shall probably have to raise the rents-which are absurdly low-which, of course, will be a very unpopular movement; and my being willing to live as simply as any of my tenants, will not in the least soften their feeling towards me. I shall not do anything in a hurry, but I shall first try and master my position. After so many years of a non-resident squire of a strictly conserva

ay Ev

macy this morning. She gave me the opening I

be leaving to-day

omfortable, that I was going to ask you t

f you should be living in a cottage such as this

in a cottage, or quite a small house, with a sister of mine who has

her apron. I could see I had appealed to her mothe

econd bedroom,' I suggested

a thing; not fit

s other women; and my sister might have

my John,'

t he lik

f the washing-and he'd just come in from work,-and she marched into the kitchen and talked very loud. Though he's deaf he don't like no

o put it; and pray remember to talk gently to our host. I cannot see why we should not double the size of this cottage-put in a bath-room, and get Mrs. Macdonald to do for us; but this will entirely depend upon your manners, you see. I

be sure not to spill them; they're s

carry them as carefu

a lady; her tone was

e, and went down the path to meet her, asking

But I'm afraid you're better and don't want t

d little visitor; 'but I don't quite know why you are so kind as to bring me t

t looked up into m

eeled me out of church, I heard daddy talking to Mrs. Macdonald; and she said s

I certainly had not intended my w

's in that basket? It wouldn't be

not well; and I'm to think what they will like, and take it to them. So, when I heard you had such a bad headache, I got Nurse

you see; but perhaps you will be so kind as to leave them all

nterposed Kitty, eagerl

a triumphant g

think of things by myself. And then at the end of the day I tell him where I've b

sket, and brought it

, Kitty; but I am most gratef

m nine, although you'd never think it, because I'm so small

at the recumbent figure, I saw that the poor little child was deformed.

nk of all the ill ones, because Nu

matter. I fancy you would do me more good than a doctor. And I've a sister co

as old

e older,

y will let me; but

f you have any little

's only me,' interposed

r what he

mean? Sally. Rather

she must be going; and went on her way, kissing he

ed up in her. I have been the round of the village to-day, making acquaintance with one and another as occasion offered. As I conjectured there seems plenty to be done; and it must be some months before I c

he Lessings-a very virtuous lot, if their memorial tablets are to be trusted. The church has been carefully restored-quite recently, I fancy, by the look of it. Then I went into the churchyard, where a newly-filled

aken,' I said. 'This must

s, s

put the

id she'd thought he'd be lonely without any;' and th

a notion your relative did not like flowers at a funeral

me upon me unawares, and he d

ow?' I answered. 'He'l

e to describe the good man. C

r yo

LESS