more of Jenny than of anyone else in the world, Kate, and you
know it," said Tom, with a dignity which Kate could not help feeling.
"But I think more yet of Him that's above the world. No, no! If ever I
win Jenny--and God grant I may I--I'll win her righteously, not lyingly.
I thank you for your good meaning, all the same."

"Good even to you both!" said an old man's voice; and they turned to see
the speaker coming down the lane. He was a venerable-looking man, clad
in a long brown coat, girt to him by a band of rough leather; his long,
silvery hair fell over his shoulders, and under his arm was a large,
clasped book, in a leather cover which had seen much service.

"Uncle Anthony!" cried Tom. "I knew not you were back. Are you on your
way up the hill? Here, prithee, leave me carry your book. Good even,
Kate, and I thank you!"

"Good even!" said Kate, with a nod to both; and Tom tucked the big book
under his own arm, and went forward with the traveller.

CHAPTER TWO.

HOW JENNY FARED THE FIRST EVENING.

"Well, for sure, Aunt Persis will be some fain to see you!" said Tom
Fenton, as he and his uncle, old Anthony, went forward up the hill.
"But whence come you, now, Uncle? Are you very weary? Eh, but I'm glad
you've won home safe!"

"God bless thee, my lad! Ay, He's brought me home safe. A bit
footsore, to be sure, and glad enough of rest: but gladder to be
suffered to do His will, and minister to His suffering servants. Whence
come I? Well, from Kidderminster, to-day; but--"

"Dear heart! but you never footed it all the way from Kidderminster?"

"No, no, dear lad. A good man gave me a lift for a matter o' eight
miles or more. But, dear me! I mind the time I could ha' run nigh on a
mile in five minutes, and ha' trudged my forty mile a day, nor scarce
felt it. I reckon, Tom, lad, thou'rt not so lissome as I was at thy
years. Well, to be sure! 'Tis all right; I'm only a good way nearer
Home."

They walked on together for a few minutes in silence. Tom's thoughts
had gone back from the momentary pleasure of welcoming his uncle, to
whom he was greatly attached, to his sore disappointment about Jenny.

"What is it, Tom?" said the old man quietly.

"Oh, only a bit of trouble, Uncle. Nought I need cumber you with."

"Jenny Lavender?" was the next suggestion.

"Ay. I thought not you knew how I'd set my heart on her, ever since she
was that high," said Tom, indicating a length of about a ya