ke did not mind going through the kitchen, and immediately found
himself shut up in Mrs. Sturt's back parlour, looking out among the
mingled roses and cabbages.

Mrs. Sturt walked quickly across the road to the cottage door, and
went at once to the open window of the sitting-room. Mrs. Ray was
there with a book in her hand,--a serious book, the perusal of which
I fear was in some degree due to the presence of her elder daughter;
and Mrs. Prime was there with another book, evidently very serious;
and Rachel was there too, seated on the sofa, deeply buried in the
manipulation of a dress belonging to her mother. Mrs. Sturt was sure
at once that they had not seen Luke Rowan as he passed inside the
farmyard gate, and that they did not suspect that he was near them.

"Oh, Mrs. Sturt, is that you?" said the widow, looking up. "You'll
just come in for a minute, won't you?" and Mrs. Ray showed by a
suppressed yawn that her attention had not been deeply fixed by that
serious book. Rachel looked up, and bade the visitor welcome with a
little nod; but it was not a cheery nod as it would have been in old
days, before her sorrow had come upon her.

"I'll have the cherries back in her cheeks before the evening's
over," said Mrs. Sturt to herself, as she looked at the pale-faced
girl. Mrs. Prime also made some little salutation to their neighbour;
but she did so with the very smallest expenditure of thoughts or
moments. Mrs. Sturt was all very well, but Mrs. Prime had greater
work on hand than gossiping with Mrs. Sturt.

"I'll not just come in, thankee, Mrs. Ray; but if it ain't troubling
you I want to speak a word to you outside; and a word to Rachel too,
if she don't mind coming."

"A word to me!" said Rachel getting up and putting down her dress.
Her thoughts now-a-days were always fixed on the same subject, and
it seemed that any special word to her must have reference to that.
Mrs. Ray also got up, leaving her mark in her book. Mrs. Prime went
on reading, harder than ever. There was to be some conference of
importance from which she could not but feel herself to be excluded
in a very special way. Something wicked was surely to be proposed,
or she would have been allowed to hear it. She said nothing, but her
head was almost shaken by the vehemence with which she read the book
in her lap.

Mrs. Sturt retired beyond the precincts of the widow's front garden
before she said a word. Rachel had followed her first through the
gat