onest maid, whose only pride was to
keep the place sweet, and save her mistress from all care. But Mistress
Alison was not to be dismayed by poverty; she was a tranquil and loving
woman, who had never married; but who, as if to compensate her for the
absence of nearer ties, had a simple and wholesome love of all created
things. She was infirm now, but was quite content, when it was fine, to
sit for long hours idle for very love, and look about her with a
peaceful and smiling air; she prayed much, or rather held a sweet
converse in her heart with God; she thought little of her latter end,
which she knew could not be long delayed, but was content to leave it in
the hands of the Father, sure that He, who had made the world so
beautiful and so full of love, would comfort her when she came to enter
in at the dark gate.

There was also an old and silent man who looked after the cattle and
the few hens that the household kept; at the back of the house was a
thatched timbered grange, where he laid his tools; but he spent his time
mostly in the garden, which sloped down to the fishpond, and was all
bordered with box; here was a pleasant homely scent, on hot days, of the
good herbs that shed their rich smell in the sun; and here the flies,
that sate in the leaves, would buzz at the sound of a footfall, and then
be still again, cleaning their hands together in their busy manner.

The only other member of the quiet household was the boy Paul, who was
distantly akin to Mistress Alison. He had neither father nor mother, and
had lived at Heritage all of his life that he could remember; he was a
slender, serious boy, with delicate features, and large grey eyes that
looked as if they held a secret; but if they had, it was a secret of his
forefathers; for the boy had led a most quiet and innocent life; he had
been taught to read in a fashion, but he had no schooling; sometimes a
neighbouring goodwife would say to Mistress Alison that the boy should
be sent to school, and Mistress Alison would open her peaceful eyes and
say, "Nay, Paul is not like other boys--he would get all the hurt and
none of the good of school; when there is work for him he will do
it--but I am not for making all toil alike. Paul shall grow up like the
lilies of the field. God made not all things to be busy." And the
goodwife would shake her head and wonder; for it was not easy to answer
Mistress Alison, who indeed was often right in the end.

So Paul grew up as he