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curates； or the pa'son's friends； or such like；' said the lad
dubiously。
'Ah； that may be a promising sign： I'll call。 Or no； just you go
up and ask first if she can find room for me。 I have to see one or
two persons on another matter。 You will find me down at the
carrier's。'
In a quarter of an hour the lad came back； and said that Mrs。
Newberry would have no objection to accommodate him； whereupon
Stockdale called at the house。
It stood within a garden…hedge； and seemed to be roomy and
comfortable。 He saw an elderly woman； with whom he made
arrangements to come the same night； since there was no inn in the
place； and he wished to house himself as soon as possible； the
village being a local centre from which he was to radiate at once to
the different small chapels in the neighbourhood。 He forthwith sent
his luggage to Mrs。 Newberry's from the carrier's； where he had
taken shelter； and in the evening walked up to his temporary home。
As he now lived there； Stockdale felt it unnecessary to knock at the
door； and entering quietly he had the pleasure of hearing footsteps
scudding away like mice into the back quarters。 He advanced to the
parlour； as the front room was called； though its stone floor was
scarcely disguised by the carpet； which only over…laid the trodden
areas； leaving sandy deserts under the bulging mouldings of the
table…legs； playing with brass furniture。 But the room looked snug
and cheerful。 The firelight shone out brightly； trembling on the
knobs and handles； and lurking in great strength on the under
surface of the chimney…piece。 A deep arm…chair； covered with
horsehair； and studded with a countless throng of brass nails； was
pulled up on one side of the fireplace。 The tea…things were on the
table； the teapot cover was open； and a little hand…bell had been
laid at that precise point towards which a person seated in the
great chair might be expected instinctively to stretch his hand。
Stockdale sat down； not objecting to his experience of the room thus
far； and began his residence by tinkling the bell。 A little girl
crept in at the summons； and made tea for him。 Her name； she said；
was Marther Sarer； and she lived out there； nodding towards the road
and village generally。 Before Stockdale had got far with his meal；
a tap sounded on the door behind him； and on his telling the
inquirer to come in； a rustle of garments caused him to turn his
head。 He saw before him a fine and extremely well…made young woman；
with dark hair； a wide； sensible； beautiful forehead； eyes that
warmed him before he knew it； and a mouth that was in itself a
picture to all appreciative souls。
'Can I get you anything else for tea？' she said； coming forward a
step or two； an expression of liveliness on her features； and her
hand waving the door by its edge。
'Nothing； thank you；' said Stockdale； thinking less of what he
replied than of what might be her relation to the household。
'You are quite sure？' said the young woman； apparently aware that he
had not considered his answer。
He conscientiously examined the tea…things； and found them all
there。 'Quite sure； Miss Newberry；' he said。
'It is Mrs。 Newberry；' she said。 'Lizzy Newberry； I used to be
Lizzy Simpkins。'
'O； I beg your pardon； Mrs。 Newberry。' And before he had occasion
to say more she left the room。
Stockdale remained in some doubt till Martha Sarah came to clear the
table。 'Whose house is this； my little woman；' said he。
'Mrs。 Lizzy Newberry's； sir。'
'Then Mrs。 Newberry is not the old lady I saw this afternoon？'
'No。 That's Mrs。 Newberry's mother。 It was Mrs。 Newberry who comed
in to you just by now； because she wanted to see if you was good…
looking。'
Later in the evening； when Stockdale was about to begin supper； she
came again。 'I have come myself； Mr。 Stockdale；' she said。 The
minister stood up in acknowledgment of the honour。 'I am afraid
little Marther might not make you understand。 What will you have
for supper？there's cold rabbit； and there's a ham uncut。'
Stockdale said he could get on nicely with those viands； and supper
was laid。 He had no more than cut a slice when tap…tap came to the
door again。 The minister had already learnt that this particular
rhythm in taps denoted the fingers of his enkindling landlady； and
the doomed young fellow buried his first mouthful under a look of
receptive blandness。
'We have a chicken in the house； Mr。 StockdaleI quite forgot to
mention it just now。 Perhaps you would like Marther Sarer to bring
it up？'
Stockdale had advanced far enough in the art of being a young man to
say that he did not want the chicken； unless she brought it up
herself； but when it was uttered he blushed at the daring gallantry
of the speech； perhaps a shade too strong for a serious man and a
minister。 In three minutes the chicken appeared； but； to his great
surprise； only in the hands of Martha Sarah。 Stockdale was
disappointed； which perhaps it was intended that he should be。
He had finished supper； and was not in the least anticipating Mrs。
Newberry again that night； when she tapped and entered as before。
Stockdale's gratified look told that she had lost nothing by not
appearing when expected。 It happened that the cold in the head from
which the young man suffered had increased with the approach of
night； and before she had spoken he was seized with a violent fit of
sneezing which he could not anyhow repress。
Mrs。 Newberry looked full of pity。 'Your cold is very bad to…night；
Mr。 Stockdale。'
Stockdale replied that it was rather troublesome。
'And I've a good mind'she added archly； looking at the cheerless
glass of water on the table； which the abstemious minister was going
to drink。
'Yes； Mrs。 Newberry？'
'I've a good mind that you should have something more likely to cure
it than that cold stuff。'
'Well；' said Stockdale； looking down at the glass； 'as there is no
inn here； and nothing better to be got in the village； of course it
will do。'
To this she replied； 'There is something better； not far off； though
not in the house。 I really think you must try it； or you may be
ill。 Yes； Mr。 Stockdale； you shall。' She held up her finger；
seeing that he was about to speak。 'Don't ask what it is； wait； and
you shall see。'
Lizzy went away； and Stockdale waited in a pleasant mood。 Presently
she returned with her bonnet and cloak on； saying； 'I am so sorry；
but you must help me to get it。 Mother has gone to bed。 Will you
wrap yourself up； and come this way； and please bring that cup with
you？'
Stockdale； a lonely young fellow； who had for weeks felt a great
craving for somebody on whom to throw away superfluous interest； and
even tenderness； was not sorry to join her； and followed his guide
through the back door； across the garden； to the bottom； where the
boundary was a wall。 This wall was low； and beyond it Stockdale
discerned in the night shades several grey headstones； and the
outlines of the church roof and tower。
'It is easy to get up this way；' she said； stepping upon a bank
which abutted on the wall； then putting her foot on the top of the
stonework； and descending a spring inside； where the ground was much
higher； as is the manner of graveyards to be。 Stockdale did the
same； and followed her in the dusk across the irregular ground till
they came to the tower door； which； when they had entered； she
softly closed behind them。
'You can keep a secret？' she said； in a musical voice。
'Like an iron chest！' said he fervently。
Then from under her cloak she produced a small lighted lantern；
which the minister had not noticed that she carried at all。 The
light showed them to be close to the singing…gallery stairs； under
which lay a heap of lumber of all sorts； but consisting mostly of
decayed framework； pews； panels； and pieces of flooring； that from
time to time had been removed from their original fixings in the
body of the edifice and replaced by new。
'Perhaps you will drag some of those boards aside？' she said；
holding the lantern over her head to light him better。 'Or will you
take the lantern while I move them？'
'I can manage it；' said th