'I remembered that when the
poor women in the great house were afflicted with hysterics and fearful
imaginings, the surgeon, who was a good, kind man, used to say: "Ale,
give them ale, and let it be strong."'

'He was no advocate for tea, then?' said I.

'He had no objection to tea; but he used to say, "Everything in its
season." Shall we take ours now--I have waited for you.'

'I have no objection,' said I; 'I feel rather heated, and at present
should prefer tea to ale--"Everything in its season," as the surgeon
said.'

* * * * *

I put some fresh wood on the fire, which was nearly out, and hung the
kettle over it. I then issued forth from the dingle, and strolled round
the wood that surrounded it; for a long time I was busied in meditation,
looking at the ground, striking with my foot, half unconsciously, the
tufts of grass and thistles that I met in my way. After some time, I
lifted up my eyes to the sky, at first vacantly, and then with more
attention, turning my head in all directions for a minute or two; after
which I returned to the dingle. Isopel was seated near the fire, over
which the kettle was now hung; she had changed her dress--no signs of the
dust and fatigue of her late excursion remained; she had just added to
the fire a small billet of wood, two or three of which I had left beside
it; the fire cracked, and a sweet odour filled the dingle.

'I am fond of sitting by a wood fire,' said Belle, 'when abroad, whether
it be hot or cold; I love to see the flames dart out of the wood; but
what kind is this, and where did you get it?'

'It is ash,' said I, 'green ash. Somewhat less than a week ago, whilst I
was wandering along the road by the side of a wood, I came to a place
where some peasants were engaged in cutting up and clearing away a
confused mass of fallen timber: a mighty-aged oak had given way the night
before, and in its fall had shivered some smaller trees; the upper part
of the oak, and the fragments of the rest, lay across the road. I
purchased, for a trifle, a bundle or two, and the wood on the fire is
part of it--ash, green ash.'

'That makes good the old rhyme,' said Belle, 'which I have heard sung by
the old woman in the great house:--

'"Ash, when green,
Is fire for a queen."'

'And on fairer form of queen, ash fire never shone,' said I, 'than on
thine, O beauteous queen of the dingle.'

'I am half disposed to be angry with you, young man,' said Belle.

* * * * *