child, what's ado?"

"Please, Aunt, if you wouldn't!" suggested Christie lucidly. "You see,
I've got to forgive Uncle Edward, and when you talk like that, it makes
me boil up, and I can't."

"Boil up, then, and boil o'er," said Aunt Tabitha, half-amused. "I'll
tarry to forgive him, at any rate, till he says he's sorry."

"But Father says God didn't wait till we were sorry, before the Lord
Jesus died for us, Aunt Tabitha."

"You learn your gram'mer to suck eggs!" was the reply. "Well, if you're
both in that mind, I'd best be off; I shall do no good with you." And
Aunt Tabitha swung the heavy market-basket on her strong arm as lightly
as if it were only a feather's weight. "Good-morrow; I trust you'll
hear reason, Roger Hall, next time I see you. Did you sup your herbs,
Christie, that I steeped for you?"

"Yes, Aunt, I thank you," said Christabel meekly, a vivid recollection
of the unsavoury flavour of the dose coming over her, and creating a
fervent hope that Aunt Tabitha would be satisfied without repeating it.

"Wormwood, and betony, and dandelion, and comfrey," said Aunt Tabitha.
"Maybe, now, you'd best have a change; I'll lay some camomile and ginger
to steep for you, with a pinch of balm--that'll be pleasant enough to
sup."

Christabel devoutly hoped it would be better than the last, but she
wisely refrained from saying so.

"As for Edward Benden, I'll mix him some wormwood and rue," resumed Aunt
Tabitha grimly: "and I'll not put honey in it neither. Good-morrow.
You've got to forgive him, you know: much good may it do you! It'll not
do him much, without I mistake."

And Aunt Tabitha and her basket marched away. Looking from the window,
Mr Hall descried Mr Benden coming up a side road on the bay horse,
which he had evidently not succeeded in selling. He laughed to himself
as he saw that Tabitha perceived the enemy approaching, and evidently
prepared for combat. Mr Benden, apparently, did not see her till he
was nearly close to her, when he at once spurred forward to get away,
pursued by the vindictive Tabitha, whose shrill voice was audible as she
ran, though the words could not be heard. They were not, however,
difficult to imagine. Of course the horse soon distanced the woman.
Aunt Tabitha, with a shake of her head and another of her clenched fist
at the retreating culprit, turned back for her basket, which she had set
down on the bank to be rid of its weight in the pursuit.

Mr Benden's r