feminine features betrayed evident annoyance at my visit,
but still there was an absence of that air of menace and hatred which
characterized her in former days.

"'You visit me?' was her inquiry; 'why?'

"'To condole with you on the ravages which death has made in your
family.'

"Her reply was instant and firmly uttered.

"'Yes; two are gone. Their part is played and over. I presume they are at
rest.'

"A passing remark followed, in which a hope was expressed that I should
see her at church.

"'Never, until I'm brought there. I shouldn't know myself in such a
place, nor would those who assemble there know me.'

"While framing my reply she continued--

"'Your visit, sir, is wholly unexpected; I have never troubled the
clergy, and I hope they will not trouble me; I have my sorrows, and I
keep them to myself.'

"'They will overwhelm you unless aid be granted--'

"She interrupted me.

"'I seek it not, and therefore have no right to expect it. But why should
I detain you sir,' said she, rising from her seat; 'there are others who
may prize your presence more than I do.'

"One of Wilson's little volumes was in my hand. I proffered it with the
remark--'You will perhaps read this in my absence?'

"She declined it with a gesture of impatience.

"'No! no! I seldom read, and my hourly endeavor _now_ is not to think!
This way lies your road, sir. Farewell.'

"A more thoroughly unsatisfactory interview it is scarcely possible to
imagine.

"Two years had rolled away, when, one morning, a message reached me that
'Dame Lassiter was ill,' and wished I would 'call in the course of the
day.' Within the hour came another summons: 'Dame Lassiter was much
worse,' and begged to 'see me without delay.' Before midday I was at the
cottage. Her sole attendant,--a bold, saucy, harsh looking girl of
eighteen,--awaited me at the threshold.

"'Right glad am I you're come,' was her greeting; 'the mistress, sir, has
been asking for you ever since day-break.'

"'She is worse then?'

"She lowered her voice to a whisper, and continued:--

"'She's going! She'll not hold it long. The doctors have given her up,
and there's no more medicine to be gone for. This last is a sure sign.'

"'Is she sensible?'

"The girl hesitated.

"'_In_ times she be,' was her reply, rather doubtfully given! 'in times
she be; but there's something about her I don't quite fancy; the plain
fact is, she's rather _quair_, and I shall go up to the villag