rode back from Canterbury."

"So I did, Tabitha; but I wis not yet which was the right."

"Ay, you're a brave hand at thinking, but I want to _do_."

"That will I likewise, so soon as I have thought out what is best to do.
I see it not as yet."

"Lack-a-daisy me! Well, my fine master, I'll leave you to your
thinking, and I'll get to my doing. As to second and third, I'll tarry
till I reach 'em; but I know what comes first."

"What mean you to do, Tabitha?"

"I mean to walk up to Briton's Mead, and give Edward Benden a sweet-sop
to his supper. I've had a rod in pickle any day this three months, and
I reckon 'tis in good conditions by now. I'll give him some'at he'll
enjoy. If he skrike not afore I've done with him--!"

Leaving her sentence the more expressive for its incompleteness,
Mistress Tabitha stalked out of the room and the house, not pausing for
any farewells.

"Father," said Christie, a little fearfully, "aren't you 'feared Aunt
Tabitha shall get into prison, the way she talks and runs right at
things?"

"Nay, Christie, I scarce am," said Roger.

He knew that Faithful is brought to the stake in Vanity Fair more
frequently than Talkative.

In the dining-room at Briton's Mead Mr Benden was sitting down to his
solitary supper. Of the result of his application to the Bishop he had
not yet heard. He really imagined that if Roger Hall could be kept out
of her way, Alice would yield and do all that he wished. He gave her
credit for no principle; indeed, like many in his day, he would have
laughed at the bare idea of a woman having any principle, or being able
to stand calmly and firmly without being instigated and supported by a
man. Roger, therefore, in his eyes, was the obstacle in the way of
Alice's submission. He did not in the least realise that the real
obstacle against which he was striving was the Holy Spirit of God.

To a man in Mr Benden's position, who, moreover, had always been an
epicure, his meals were a relief and an enjoyment. He was then less
troubled by noxious thoughts than at any other time. It was with a sigh
of something like satisfaction that he sat down to supper, unfolded his
napkin, and tucked it into his doublet, muttered a hurried grace, and
helped himself to the buttered eggs which Mary had sent up light and
hot. He was just putting down the pepper-cruet, when he became aware of
something on the settle in the corner, which he could not fairly see,
and did not un