scalding cream or
preparing butter, and did not watch either Rachel or the visitor at
the cottage. But she knew with tolerable accuracy what was going on,
and with all her heart wished that her young friend might have luck
with her lover. Rachel waited for a minute or two till the little
carriage was out of sight, till the sound of the wheels could be no
longer heard, and then she prepared to move. She slowly got herself
up from her chair as though she were afraid to show herself upon the
green, and paused still a few moments longer before she left the
kitchen.

"So, thou's off," said Mrs. Sturt, coming in from the back regions of
her territory, with the sleeves of her gown tucked up, enveloped in a
large roundabout apron which covered almost all her dress. Mrs. Sturt
would no more have thought of doing her work in the front kitchen
than I should think of doing mine in the drawing-room. "So thou's off
home again, my lass," said Mrs. Sturt.

"Yes, Mrs. Sturt. Mr. Comfort has been with mamma,--about business;
and as I didn't want to be in the way I just came over to you."

"Thou art welcome, as flowers in May, morning or evening; but thee
knowest that, girl. As for Mr. Comfort,--it's cold comfort he is, I
always say. It's little I think of what clergymen says, unless it be
out of the pulpit or the like of that. What does they know about lads
and lasses?"

"He's a very old friend of mamma's."

"Old friends is always best, I'll not deny that. But, look thee here,
my girl; my man's an old friend too. He's know'd thee since he lifted
thee in his arms to pull the plums off that bough yonder; and he's
seen thee these ten years a deal oftener than Mr. Comfort. If they
say anything wrong of thy joe there, tell me, and Sturt 'll find out
whether it be true or no. Don't let ere a parson in Devonshire rob
thee of thy sweetheart. It's passing sweet, when true hearts meet.
But it breaks the heart, when true hearts part." With the salutary
advice contained in these ancient local lines Mrs. Sturt put her arms
round Rachel, and having kissed her, bade her go.

With slow step she made her way across the green, hardly daring to
look to the door of the cottage. But there was no figure standing
at the door; and let her have looked with all her eyes, there was
nothing there to have told her anything. She walked very slowly,
thinking as she went of Mrs. Sturt's words--"Don't let ere a parson
in Devonshire rob thee of thy sweetheart." W