d the folk that lived in them lying yonder. Then
there was the farmhouse; and then a carpenter came, and a wheeler. Then
there was a shop wanted; and the church was roofed in and used: and some
gentry came and sat down by the river side; and the place grew to what
it is. They say now, it is not near its end yet: but it is strange to
me to see the churchyard the fullest place near, so that I have to come
here for company."

And the old man chuckled again. As she rose to go, Margaret asked
whether he knew the Platts, who lived in the cottage in the lane.

"I know him to see to. Is he down?"

"He is dead and his child: but his wife is recovering."

"Ay, there's many recovering now, they say."

"Indeed! who?"

"Why, a many. But the fever has got into Rowland's house, they say."
Margaret's heart turned sick at hearing these words, and she hastily
pursued her way. It was not Philip, however, who was seized. He was in
the churchyard at this moment. She saw him walking quickly along the
turnstile path, slackening his pace only for a moment, as he passed the
funeral group. The light from the torch shone full upon his face--the
face settled and composed, as she knew it would not be if he were aware
who was within a few paces of him. She felt the strongest impulse to
show him her ring--the strongest desire for his sympathy in its
recovery: but an instant showed her the absurdity of the thought, and
she hung down her blushing head in the darkness.

From Maria she had sympathy, such as it was--sympathy without any faith
in Philip. She had from her also good news of the state of the village.
There were recoveries talked of; and there would be more, now that
those who were seized would no longer consider death inevitable. Mrs
Howell was ill; and poor Miss Nares was down with the fever, which no
one could wonder at: but Mr Jones and his son John were both out of
danger, and the little Tuckers were likely to do well. Mr James was
already talking of sending for his wife and sister-in-law home again, as
the worst days of the disease seemed to be past, and so many families
had not been attacked at all. It was too true that Matilda Rowland was
unwell to-day; but Mr Walcot hoped it was only a slight feverish
attack, which would be thought nothing of under any other
circumstances.--On the whole, Maria thought the neighbours she had seen
to-day in better spirits than at any time since the fever made its
appearance.

Ma