e be the sufferers ourselves. But God can enable
us to do even that, Christie."

Christie's long sigh, as she turned on her cushion, said that it was
almost too hard for her to believe. But before she had found an answer,
the door opened, and Mrs Tabitha Hall appeared behind it.

"Well, Roger Hall, how love you your good brother-in-law this morrow?"
was her greeting. "I love not his action in no wise, sister."

"What mean you by that? Can you set a man's action in one basket, and
himself in another? It's a strain beyond E-la, that is." [See note.]

"We're trying to forgive Uncle Edward, Aunt," said Christie from her
couch, in a rather lugubrious tone.

"Pleasant work, isn't it?" was Aunt Tabitha's answer. "I haven't
forgiven him, nor tried neither; nor I amn't going."

"But Father says we must."

"Very good; let him set us the ensample."

Aunt Tabitha made herself comfortable in Mr Hall's big chair, which he
vacated for her convenience. By her side she set down her large
market-basket, covered with a clean cloth, from which at one end
protruded the legs of two geese, and at the other the handle of a new
frying-pan.

"I've been up to see him this morrow; I thought he'd best not come short
o' bitters. But he's off to Cranbrook with his bay horse--at the least
so saith Mall--and I shall need to tarry while he comes back. It'll not
hurt: bitters never lose strength by standing. I'll have it out with
him again, come this even."

"Best not, Tabitha. It should maybe turn to more bitters for poor
Alice, if you anger him yet further. And we have no right to
interfere."

"What mean you by that, Roger Hall?" demanded Mistress Tabitha, in
warlike tones. "No right, quotha! If that isn't a man, all o'er! I've
a right to tell my brother-in-law he's an infamous rascal, and I'll do
it, whether I have or no! No right, marry come up! Where else is he to
hear it, prithee? You talk of forgiving him, forsooth, and Alice never
stands up to him an inch, and as for that Tom o' mine, why, he can
scarce look his own cat in the face. Deary weary me! where would you
all be, I'd like to know, without I looked after you? You'd let
yourselves be trod on and ground down into the dust, afore you'd do so
much as squeal. That's not my way o' going on, and you'd best know it."

"Thank you, Sister Tabitha; I think I knew it before," said Mr Hall
quietly.

"Please, Aunt Tabitha--" Christie stopped and flushed.

"Well,