wessex tales-第38节

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humble　entry　into　the　village；　unknown；　and　almost　unseen。　　But　when
those　of　the　inhabitants　who　styled　themselves　of　his　connection
became　acquainted　with　him；　they　were　rather　pleased　with　the
substitute　than　otherwise；　though　he　had　scarcely　as　yet　acquired
ballast　of　character　sufficient　to　steady　the　consciences　of　the
hundred…and…forty　Methodists　of　pure　blood　who；　at　this　time；　lived
in　Nether…Moynton；　and　to　give　in　addition　supplementary　support　to
the　mixed　race　which　went　to　church　in　the　morning　and　chapel　in　the
evening；　or　when　there　was　a　teaas　many　as　a　hundred…and…ten
people　more；　all　told；　and　including　the　parish…clerk　in　the　winter…
time；　when　it　was　too　dark　for　the　vicar　to　observe　who　passed　up
the　street　at　seven　o'clockwhich；　to　be　just　to　him；　he　was　never
anxious　to　do。

It　was　owing　to　this　overlapping　of　creeds　that　the　celebrated
population…puzzle　arose　among　the　denser　gentry　of　the　district
around　Nether…Moynton：　　how　could　it　be　that　a　parish　containing
fifteen　score　of　strong　full…grown　Episcopalians；　and　nearly
thirteen　score　of　well…matured　Dissenters；　numbered　barely　two…and…
twenty　score　adults　in　all？

The　young　man　being　personally　interesting；　those　with　whom　he　came
in　contact　were　content　to　waive　for　a　while　the　graver　question　of
his　sufficiency。　　It　is　said　that　at　this　time　of　his　life　his　eyes
were　affectionate；　though　without　a　ray　of　levity；　that　his　hair　was
curly；　and　his　figure　tall；　that　he　was；　in　short；　a　very　lovable
youth；　who　won　upon　his　female　hearers　as　soon　as　they　saw　and　heard
him；　and　caused　them　to　say；　'Why　didn't　we　know　of　this　before　he
came；　that　we　might　have　gied　him　a　warmer　welcome！'

The　fact　was　that；　knowing　him　to　be　only　provisionally　selected；
and　expecting　nothing　remarkable　in　his　person　or　doctrine；　they　and
the　rest　of　his　flock　in　Nether…Moynton　had　felt　almost　as
indifferent　about　his　advent　as　if　they　had　been　the　soundest
church…going　parishioners　in　the　country；　and　he　their　true　and
appointed　parson。　　Thus　when　Stockdale　set　foot　in　the　place　nobody
had　secured　a　lodging　for　him；　and　though　his　journey　had　given　him
a　bad　cold　in　the　head；　he　was　forced　to　attend　to　that　business
himself。　　On　inquiry　he　learnt　that　the　only　possible　accommodation
in　the　village　would　be　found　at　the　house　of　one　Mrs。　Lizzy
Newberry；　at　the　upper　end　of　the　street。

It　was　a　youth　who　gave　this　information；　and　Stockdale　asked　him
who　Mrs。　Newberry　might　be。

The　boy　said　that　she　was　a　widow…woman；　who　had　got　no　husband；
because　he　was　dead。　　Mr。　Newberry；　he　added；　had　been　a　well…to…do
man　enough；　as　the　saying　was；　and　a　farmer；　but　he　had　gone　off　in
a　decline。　　As　regarded　Mrs。　Newberry's　serious　side；　Stockdale
gathered　that　she　was　one　of　the　trimmers　who　went　to　church　and
chapel　both。

'I'll　go　there；'　said　Stockdale；　feeling　that；　in　the　absence　of
purely　sectarian　lodgings；　he　could　do　no　better。

'She's　a　little　particular；　and　won't　hae　gover'ment　folks；　or
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；