had advanced far enough in the art of being a young man to say
that he did not want the chicken, unless she brought it up herself; but
when it was uttered he blushed at the daring gallantry of the speech,
perhaps a shade too strong for a serious man and a minister. In three
minutes the chicken appeared, but, to his great surprise, only in the
hands of Martha Sarah. Stockdale was disappointed, which perhaps it was
intended that he should be.

He had finished supper, and was not in the least anticipating Mrs.
Newberry again that night, when she tapped and entered as before.
Stockdale's gratified look told that she had lost nothing by not
appearing when expected. It happened that the cold in the head from
which the young man suffered had increased with the approach of night,
and before she had spoken he was seized with a violent fit of sneezing
which he could not anyhow repress.

Mrs. Newberry looked full of pity. 'Your cold is very bad to-night, Mr.
Stockdale.'

Stockdale replied that it was rather troublesome.

'And I've a good mind'--she added archly, looking at the cheerless glass
of water on the table, which the abstemious minister was going to drink.

'Yes, Mrs. Newberry?'

'I've a good mind that you should have something more likely to cure it
than that cold stuff.'

'Well,' said Stockdale, looking down at the glass, 'as there is no inn
here, and nothing better to be got in the village, of course it will do.'

To this she replied, 'There is something better, not far off, though not
in the house. I really think you must try it, or you may be ill. Yes,
Mr. Stockdale, you shall.' She held up her finger, seeing that he was
about to speak. 'Don't ask what it is; wait, and you shall see.'

Lizzy went away, and Stockdale waited in a pleasant mood. Presently she
returned with her bonnet and cloak on, saying, 'I am so sorry, but you
must help me to get it. Mother has gone to bed. Will you wrap yourself
up, and come this way, and please bring that cup with you?'

Stockdale, a lonely young fellow, who had for weeks felt a great craving
for somebody on whom to throw away superfluous interest, and even
tenderness, was not sorry to join her; and followed his guide through the
back door, across the garden, to the bottom, where the boundary was a
wall. This wall was low, and beyond it Stockdale discerned in the night
shades several grey headstones, and the outlines of the church roof and
tower.

'It is easy