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comfortable and inviting。
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“The lads ’ull be fine an’ hungry；” she said； half…aloud； as she
stirred the porridge。 “It’s a good step to Brox’on； an’ it’s hungry
air o’er the hill—wi’ that heavy coffin too。 Eh！ It’s heavier now； wi’
poor Bob Tholer in ’t。 Howiver； I’ve made a drap more porridge
nor common this mornin’。 The feyther ’ull happen come in arter a
bit。 Not as he’ll ate much porridge。 He swallers sixpenn’orth o’ ale；
an’ saves a hap’orth o’ por…ridge—that’s his way o’ layin’ by
money； as I’ve told him many a time； an’ am likely to tell him again
afore the day’s out。 Eh； poor mon； he takes it quiet enough； there’s
no denyin’ that。”
But now Lisbeth heard the heavy “thud” of a running footstep
on the turf； and； turning quickly towards the door； she saw Adam
enter； looking so pale and overwhelmed that she screamed aloud
and rushed towards him before he had time to speak。
“Hush； Mother；” Adam said； rather hoarsely； “don’t be
frightened。 Father’s tumbled into the water。 Belike we may bring
him round again。 Seth and me are going to carry him in。 Get a
blanket and make it hot as the fire。”
In reality Adam was convinced that his father was dead but he
knew there was no other way of repressing his mother’s
impetuous wailing grief than by occupying her with some active
task which had hope in it。
He ran back to Seth； and the two sons lifted the sad burden in
heart…stricken silence。 The wide…open glazed eyes were grey； like
Seth’s； and had once looked with mild pride on the boys before
whom Thias had lived to hang his head in shame。 Seth’s chief
feeling was awe and distress at this sudden snatching away of his
father’s soul； but Adam’s mind rushed back over the past in a
flood of relenting and pity。 When death； the great Reconciler； has
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come； it is never our tenderness that we repent of； but our
severity。
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Chapter V
The Rector
efore twelve o’clock there had been some heavy storms of
Brain； and the water lay in deep gutters on the sides of the
gravel walks in the garden of Broxton Parsonage； the
great Provence roses had been cruelly tossed by the wind and
beaten by the rain； and all the delicate…stemmed border flowers
had been dashed down and stained with the wet soil。 A
melancholy morning—because it was nearly time hay…harvest
should begin； and instead of that the meadows were likely to be
flooded。
But people who have pleasant homes get indoor enjoyments
that they would never think of but for the rain。 If it had not been a
wet morning； Mr。 Irwine would not have been in the dining…room
playing at chess with his mother； and he loves both his mother and
chess quite well enough to pass some cloudy hours very easily by
their help。 Let me take you into that dining…room and show you
the Rev。 Adolphus Irwine； Rector of Broxton； Vicar of Hayslope；
and Vicar of Blythe； a pluralist at whom the severest Church
reformer would have found it difficult to look sour。 We will enter
very softly and stand still in the open doorway； without awaking
the glossy…brown setter who is stretched across the hearth； with
her two puppies beside her； or the pug； who is dozing； with his
black muzzle aloft； like a sleepy president。
The room is a large and lofty one； with an ample mullioned oriel
window at one end； the walls； you see； are new； and not yet
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painted； but the furniture； though originally of an expensive sort；
is old and scanty； and there is no drapery about the window。 The
crimson cloth over the large dining…table is very threadbare；
though it contrasts pleasantly enough with the dead hue of the
plaster on the walls； but on this cloth there is a massive silver
waiter with a decanter of water on it； of the same pattern as two
larger ones that are propped up on the sideboard with a coat of
arms conspicuous in their centre。 You suspect at once that the
inhabitants of this room have inherited more blood than wealth；
and would not be surprised to find that Mr。 Irwine had a finely cut
nostril and upper lip； but at present we can only see that he has a
broad flat back and an abundance of powdered hair； all thrown
backward and tied behind with a black ribbon—a bit of
conservatism in costume which tells you that he is not a young
man。 He will perhaps turn round by and by； and in the meantime
we can look at that stately old lady； his mother； a beautiful aged
brunette； whose rich…toned complexion is well set off by the
complex wrappings of pure white cambric and lace about her head
and neck。 She is as erect in her comely embonpoint as a statue of
Ceres； and her dark face； with its delicate aquiline nose； firm
proud mouth； and small； intense； black eye； is so keen and
sarcastic in its expression that you instinctively substitute a pack
of cards for the chess…men and imagine her telling your fortune。
The small brown hand with which she is lifting her queen is laden
with pearls； diamonds； and turquoises； and a large black veil is
very carefully adjusted over the crown of her cap； and falls in
sharp contrast on the white