ed, eagerly but patiently, until spring came, when, without
making any more fruitless efforts, I should be sure to see him. I knew
enough of himself, and was too jealous over his dignity, to wish either
to force him by entreaties, or bring him by stratagem, into a house
where he was not welcome, even though it were the house of my own
father.

One February day, when the frost had at last broken up, and soft,
plentiful rain had half melted the great snow-drifts, which, Jael told
me, lay about the country everywhere, I thought I would just put my
head out of doors, to see how long the blessed spring would be in
coming. So I crawled down into the parlour, and out of the parlour
into the garden; Jael scolding, my father roughly encouraging. My poor
father! he always had the belief that people need not be ill unless
they chose, and that I could do a great deal if I would.

I felt very strong to-day. It was delicious to see again the green
grass, which had been hidden for weeks; delicious to walk up and down
in the sunshine, under the shelter of the yew hedge. I amused myself
by watching a pale line of snowdrops which had come up one by one, like
prisoners of war to their execution.

But the next minute I felt ashamed of the heartless simile, for it
reminded me of poor Bill Watkins, who, taken after the battle of Mentz,
last December, had been shot by the French as a spy. Poor, rosy, burly
Bill! better had he still been ingloriously driving our cart of skins.

"Have you been to see Sally lately?" said I, to Jael, who was cutting
winter cabbages hard by; "is she getting over her trouble?"

"She bean't rich, to afford fretting. There's Jem and three little
'uns yet to feed, to say nought of another big lad as lives there, and
eats a deal more than he pays, I'm sure."

I took the insinuation quietly, for I knew that my father had lately
raised John's wages, and he his rent to Sally. This, together with a
few other facts which lay between Sally and me, made me quite easy in
the mind as to his being no burthen, but rather a help to the widow--so
I let Jael have her say; it did no harm to me nor anybody.

"What bold little things snowdrops are--stop, Jael, you are setting
your foot on them."

But I was too late; she had crushed them under the high-heeled shoe.
She was even near pulling me down, as she stepped back in great hurry
and consternation.

"Look at that young gentleman coming down the garden; and here I b