Aunt Rachel / A Rustic Sentimental Comedy

had known in her youth. She had met most of the survivors of that earlier day at the parish church on Sundays, and had had no occasion to find fault with the manner of her reception at th

r inhabitants of the village it was no more than an episode, but nobody being distinctly cold

hel herself being among the believers, and having, it must be confessed, admirable ground for the belief. Nobody knew how the match had come to be broken off. It was so Old-world a bit of history that even in Heydon Hay, where history dies hard, it had died and been buried long ago. Even Rachel's return could not resuscitate it for more than one or two. But the story that was dead for other people was s

Her troubled eyes took no note of the inscriptions, but in a while she found resolution Jo go on again. With her little figure drawn uncompromisingly to its fullest height, she rounded the corner of the church-yard and saw the familiar walls. Ezra, contrary to his habit, was standing at the side door and l

ch led by a brick-paved walk to the three brick steps before the door. The door stood open when Rachel reached it, and the knocker being set high up and out of reach, she tapped upon the wood-work with the handle of her

house?" Sennacherib wa

er," said a feminine voice, in tones of feeble res

agger?" said

what I said, Sennacherib. But if you think as a mother's heart is agoing to be overcome by that sort o' talk,

ain somewhat lou

that young rip and me,

ness! Theer's somebody knockin' at the door. Go and

he hall and stared frowningly at t

. "I called for the purpose of paying my respects to Mrs

en comely, but thirty years of protest and resignation had lifted the inner ends of her eyebrows and depressed the c

And how be you?" She bent over the little figure of her guest and buried it in an embrace like that of a feather-bed. "It's beautiful weather for the time o' year," she continued, almost tearfully, "and I have been a

as is short o' breath! Her talks enough," he added, addres

triumph, "Miss Blythe won't ha' been long i' the village

you'd ha' liked for a husband, I should ha' been despisable. My missis"-he addressed his wife's visitor aga

stuck it at the back of his head, an

ind to be a single woman. The men's little more than a worrit-the best of 'em-and e

ment. The hostess, stooping over her, untied her bonnet-strings as if she had been a child, helped her t

d under him now for thirty 'ear, but I niver counted as he'd put the lad to the door and forbid his mother to speak to him. Though as for that, my dear, he may forb

ly," sai

o' trouble, but there's no more hope o' movin' him than theer'd be o' liftin' the parish church and carryin' it to market. He's gone and married again his father's will,

," said Rachel. "We mus

h, my dear, you don't know the man. Why, who's that? There

users supernaturally tight, appeared at t

the young man, cheerfull

ng at the new-comer began to embrace

d, after kissing her o

her, "if father should co

own afore the kitchen fire, an' mek me happetizin'

f gayety and impudence which seems inseparable from freckles. His face was mottled

"as was at school with me when I was a gell.

wide apart, and bending first one knee and then the other,

Snac, you'll only anger him, comin' in i' this way

him. He's had his mind set on Bunch's pony this two 'ear, an' Bunch an' him bein' at daggers drawn theer was niver a cha

and flicked one tightly clad

besought him. "Let it blow ov

made in. I've got no more hopes of turnin' the governor than I should have if I was to go and tell a hox to be a donkey. It's again his natur' to change, and nothing short of a merracle

Christian resolution,"

it of blood as is to be found in Heydon Hay. The p'ints of a hoss and a dog is a thing as every child thinks he knows about, but bless your heart theer's nothing i' the world as is half so difficult t' understand, unless

hat, Snac," she answered. "

Snac, genially.

said his mother, "not for

nin', mother, and good-day to you, mum. I'm just goin' to drop in on Mr. Ezra Gold, seein' as I'm this

doleful head. "He'll part with everythin'

, "what's the mat

time with a sort of relish. "But old experienced folks can tell when any poor feller-creetur's t

is he takin'?"

thin as egg-shells, and with no more color in 'em than there is in that cha

rib. "He's been like that as

a stronger air of doleful relish than bef

your time comes. I'll go and wake him up a bit, though he's no great hand at a bargain, and seems to find less

d after the tight-clad legs, the broad shoulders, the t

nd, and looking out of window as she spoke, as if the theme had b

the same road. It's mostly the young as bears his particular kind of sufferin', but it's on his face in as plain readin' as the family Bible. He's a lonish sort of a ma

once curt and frozen. It implied as complete a

got again him?" as

"Against whom, m

absolute certainty of impulse, an

e answered, so

, with a chill air of dignity and a pretence of surprise.

from instinct. "In old days there used to be a sor

e cannot be taught to mind the

like mine. A beautiful sperrit the man's got, to be sure, but allays a mild and sorrowful look with him. When me and Sennacherib was first married, he'd a habit of coming over here with 'Saiah Eld and Mr. Fuller for the music. It was pretty to hear 'em, for they'm all fine players

he took most of her ideas from her husband, though she was not accustomed to think so, and it was he who had inoculated her with this one. She laid her small trap for her old fri

" Rachel asked, with

k on it, I don't believe he iver touched the music-" She paused in some confusion, and to cover this f

cheeks went pale, and a look of

could have induced him to give up his music. As

indifferently, but her v

cherib. "I've heard our Sennacherib and his brother 'Saiah say over and o

on her heart, tight-clasped there. Her eye

? Why, my dear, you're ill! A glass o' wine; me own mekin', my dear. Theer's no

o her chair. "It passes very soon. It is quite gone. I thank you. Pray take no noti

ries of death and burial. The good woman had a rare nose for an invalid and a passion for nursing. Such of her old school-fellows as had died since Rachel's departure had mostly been nursed out of life under the care of Mrs. Sennacherib, and she was intimate with the symptoms

know that she was living in the heart of a love-story, and that story her own. But we rarely grow ol