ending to her. I can never feel weary in trying to repay
the kindness she has shown me. She has taught me much of what I know,
even more than her sister has, and her memory is so retentive that she
can talk over the books we have read together, and remind me often of
portions which I have forgotten."
"Ah, she is a dear lady; it's a wonder she knows so much, and no eyes to
see with," observed the dame. "She may not be so wonderful a woman as
her sister is, who can talk every bit as cleverly, if not better, than
Mr Simms, the apothecary, and it's my belief she could bleed as well if
she thought fit, though she says she sees no reason to take honest blood
out of people's bodies, but that a little sulphur and milk in the spring
and the fall will answer the purpose as well."
The dame was enlarging still further on Miss Jane's medical knowledge,
when May, turning her head, saw Jacob, who had entered, and was standing
watching her at a distance, and unwilling, it seemed, to be observed. A
blush rose to his cheeks when he found that he had been discovered.
"I promised not to be long away, and I ought to be on my road back
again," she said. "So good-bye, mother; good-bye, father."
May put out her hand to Jacob, who pressed it in his own rough palm,
casting a look at her, in which reverence was mingled with affection.
Not noticing his glance she tripped lightly away.
He followed from the cottage, keeping, however, at some distance behind,
till he had seen her enter the gate of Downside Cottage.
"What can have come over our Jacob," said the dame, after he had gone.
"He looks of late as if he was afraid of our Maiden May, instead of
being friendly with her, as he used to be. I suppose, as she seems a
fine young lady, that it would not become him, a poor fisher-lad, to be
talking to her as he did when she was a little girl," observed Adam.
"To be sure he does sometimes look curious, and often forgets things I
tell him; however, he is as good a lad as ever, so I will say nothing
agen him."
Neither his father or mother knew the true cause of poor Jacob's changed
manner.
CHAPTER NINETEEN.
THE NEW SQUIRE.
Mr Reginald's funeral took place, and was conducted with the pomp usual
in those days when a county magnate was carried to his final
resting-place. Sir Ralph and his eldest son attended as chief mourners,
and the heads of all the county families, from far and near, either came
in person or sent repres
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