an be; and a _great_ deal
pleasanter, I think."
"What you call good people, generally are stiff," said Norton.
"Oh no, Norton, they are not. What makes you think so?"
"You were very stiff just now," said Norton.
"Oh, do you mean _that_ sort of stiffness? But, Norton, I thought there
was something I could do there, you know, and I didn't think I ought to
come away."
Getting to the top of the bank broke off the discussion. Matilda and
Norton each had things to get together to go to the parsonage; and it
was necessary to change their dress. The sun was well on his westing
way when they left the iron gate of Briery Bank, bag in hand; and in
the little lane of the parsonage the elm trees cast broad and long
shadows. As they came up on the piazza, Miss Redwood opened the door.
Her hood and shawl were on, and she had a basket in her hand. She
stopped suddenly.
"What is it now?" she said. "What's wanting?"
"Nothing," said Matilda; "only Mr. Richmond has sent us here."
"He has!" said the housekeeper. "You've come to stop?"
"Mr. Richmond says so. He wished it."
"Well, what'll you do?" said Miss Redwood, coming to a sort of pause.
"There ain't a living soul in the house, and there won't be, 'cept the
minister himself; and how he'll get along I don't know. I can't be in
two places at once."
"Can't I get the tea, Miss Redwood?"
"La, I don't know but what you kin. Come along in, and let me tell you.
There's bread all baked, this afternoon--it ain't cold yet--enough to
last a siege; it's in that pantry, Matilda, in the bread box. You know
there's all the cups; and saucers; and tea things, for you've seen me
get 'em out; and the tea canister, and the sugar. And the milk is down
cellar, in a pan, and there's cream onto it. Can you skim it off and
keep it cream yet, for the minister's tea?"
"Oh yes; I can do that, Miss Redwood."
"Then you'll get along for to-night; and I'll try and be round in the
morning, if I kin. But you'll want sheets--There's the bed in the spare
room off the hall; that's all ready for one of ye; I got it fixed up
Saturday for somebody that never come; 'tain't everybody as sticks to
his word like the minister. La, I get weary with the folks that are
like Job's brooks; they say and don't do; and when you expect 'em they
ain't there. I was put out, o' Saturday, when I found out that was how
it was with this man; but there's good in everything, if you can keep
your patience; now the room
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