s. Hockin most
heartily joined me in condemning such behavior. In a minute or two,
however, she would not have one word said against him, and the tide of
her mind (as befits a married woman) was beyond all science; so that the
drift of all words came back to her husband's extraordinary merits. And
certainly these, if at all like her description, deserved to be dwelt
upon at very precious periods.

However, I had heard enough of them before; for the Major himself was
not mute upon this point, though comparatively modest, and oftentimes
deprecating praise ere ever he received it. And so I brought Mrs. Hockin
back at last to talk about the lady who was living in the ruin.

"It is not quite a ruin," she said. "My dear husband is fond of
picturesque expressions. However, it is not in very good repair; and
being unable to get possession of it, through some legal quibble,
possibly he may look at it from a rather unfavorable point of view. And
for the same reason--though he is so purely just--he may have formed a
bad opinion of the strange individual who lives there. What right has
she to be living without his leave upon his own manor? But there she is,
and she does not care for us or any body. She fetches all she wants, she
speaks to none, and if any body calls for rates or taxes, or any other
public intrusion, they may knock and knock, but never get in, and at
last they go away again."

"But surely that can not go on forever. Bruntsea is such an enlightened
place."

"Our part of it is, but the rest quite benighted. As the man says--I
forget his name, but the man that misunderstands us so--his contention
is that 'Desolate Hole,' as the Major calls it, although in the middle
of our land, is entirely distinct from it. My husband never will put up
with that--his love of justice is far too strong--and he means to have a
lawsuit. But still he has reasons for not beginning yet; and he puts up
with a great deal, I am sure. It is too bad for them to tease him so."

"It does seem a very sad thing," I replied; "and the poor soul living
there all alone! Even in the summer it is bad enough; but whatever will
she do when the winter comes? Why, the sea in bad weather must be almost
in upon her. And the roar of the pebbles all night! Major Hockin will
never allow her to stay there."

"What can he do, when he can not get in, and they even deny his title?
I assure you, Erema, I have sent down cream, and even a dozen of my
precious eggs,