go forth as though she were a man, and claim her right to
stand or fall by her love. She had been injured in being brought to
such plight as this, but she would bear her injury as best might be
within her power.

She was still thinking of all this, and still sitting with her eyes
turned towards the tower of the church, when she was touched on
the back by a light hand. She turned round quickly, startled by
the touch,--for she had heard no footstep,--and saw Martha Tappitt
and Cherry. It was Cherry who had come close upon her, and it was
Cherry's voice that she first heard. "A penny for your thoughts,"
said Cherry.

"Oh, you have so startled me!" said Rachel.

"Then I suppose your thoughts were worth more than a penny. Perhaps
you were thinking of an absent knight." And then Cherry began to
sing--"Away, away, away. He loves and he rides away."

Poor Rachel blushed and was unable to speak. "Don't be so foolish,"
said Martha to her sister. "It's ever so long since we've seen you,
Rachel. Why don't you come and walk with us?"

"Yes, indeed,--why don't you?" said Cherry, whose good-nature was
quite as conspicuous as her bad taste. She knew now that she had
vexed Rachel, and was thoroughly sorry that she had done so. If any
other girl had quizzed her about her lover it would not have annoyed
her, and she had not understood at first that Rachel Ray might be
different from herself. "I declare we have hardly seen you since the
night of the party, and we think it very ill-natured in you not to
come to us. Do come and walk to-morrow."

"Oh, thank you;--not to-morrow, because my sister is coming out from
Baslehurst, to spend the evening with us."

"Well;--on Saturday, then," said Cherry, persistingly.

But Rachel would make no promise to walk with them on any day. She
felt that she must henceforth be divided from the Tappitts. Had not
he quarrelled with Mr. Tappitt; and could it be fitting that she
should keep up any friendship with the family that was hostile to
him? She was also aware that Mrs. Tappitt was among those who were
desirous of robbing her of her lover. Mrs. Tappitt was her enemy as
Mr. Tappitt was his. She asked herself no question as to that duty of
forgiving them the injuries they had done her, but she felt that she
was divided from them,--from Mr. and Mrs. Tappitt, and also from the
girls. And, moreover, in her present strait she wanted no friend. She
could not talk to any friend about her lover, and she