Nobody

"Miss Lois has been to the great city, then?"

"Yes, she's been there. Our cousin, Mrs. Wishart, likes to have her, and Lois was there quite a spell last winter; but I expect that's theend of it. I guess she'll stay at home the rest of her life."

"Why should she?"

"Here's where her work is," said the old lady; "and one is best whereone's work is."

"But her work might be elsewhere? She'll marry some day. If I were aman, I think I should fall in love with her."

"She mightn't marry you, still," said Mrs. Armadale, with a fine smile.

"No, certainly," said Mrs. Barclay, returning the smile; "but – youknow, girls' hearts are not to be depended on. They do run away withthem, when the right person comes."

"My Lois will wait till he comes," said the old lady, with a sort oftender confidence that was impressive and almost solemn. Mrs. Barclay'sthoughts made a few quick gyrations; and then the door opened, andLois, who had left the room, came in again, followed by one of hersisters bearing a plate of butter.

"Another beauty!" thought Mrs. Barclay, as Madge was presented to her."Which is which, I wonder?" This was a beauty of quite another sort.Regular features, black hair, eyes dark and soft under long lashes, awhite brow and a very handsome mouth. But Madge had a bow of ribband inher black hair, while Lois's red-brown masses were soft, and fluffy, and unadorned. Madge's face lacked the loftiness, if it had thequietness, of the other; and it had not that innocent dignity whichseemed – to Mrs. Barclay's fancy – to set Lois apart from the rest ofyoung women. Yet most men would admire Madge most, she thought. OPhilip, Philip! she said to herself, what sort of a mess have youbrought me into! This is no common romance you have induced me to putmy fingers in. These girls! —

But then entered a third, of a different type, and Mrs. Barclay feltsome amusement at the variety surrounding her. Miss Charity was plain, like her grandmother; and Mrs. Armadale was not, as I have said, ahandsome old woman. She had never been a handsome young one; bony, angular, strong, not gracious; although the expression of calm sense, and character, and the handwriting of life-work, and the dignity ofmental calm, were unmistakeable now, and made her a person worthlooking at. Charity was much younger, of course; but she had theplainness without the dignity; sense, I am bound to say, was notwanting.

The supper was ready, and they all sat down. The meal was excellent; but at first very silently enjoyed. Save the words of anxioushospitality, there were none spoken. The quicker I get acquain'ted, thebetter, thought Mrs. Barclay. So she began.

"Your village looks to me like a quiet place."

"That is its character," said Mrs. Armadale.

"Especially in winter, I suppose?"

"Well, it allays was quiet, since I've known it," the old lady went on."They've got a hotel now for strangers, down at the Point – but thatain't the village."

"And the hotel is empty now," added Lois.

"What does the village do, to amuse itself, in these quiet winter daysand nights?"

"Nothing," said Charity.

"Really? Are there no amusements? I never heard of such a place."

"I don't know what you mean by amusements," Mrs. Armadale took up thesubject. "I think, doin' one's work is the best amusement there is. Inever wanted no other."

"Does the old proverb not hold good then in Shampuashuh, of 'All workand no play' – you know? The consequences are said to be disastrous."

"No," said Lois, laughing, "it does not hold good. People are not dullhere. I don't mean that they are very lively; but they are not dull."

"Is there a library here?"

"A sort of one; not large. Books that some of the people subscribe for, and pass round to each other's houses."

"Then it is not much of a reading community?"

"Well, it is, considerable," said Mrs. Armadale. "There's a good manybooks in the village, take 'em all together. I guess the folks have asmuch as they can do to read what they've got, and don't stand in needof no more."

"Well, are people any happier for living in such a quiet way? Are theysheltered in any degree from the storms that come upon the rest of theworld? How is it? As I drove along from the station to-night, I thoughtit looked like a haven of peace, where people could not haveheartbreaks."

"I hope the Lord will make it such to you, ma'am," the old lady saidsolemnly.

The turn was so sudden and so earnest, that it in a sort took Mrs.Barclay's breath away. She merely said, "Thank you!" and let the talk drop.

CHAPTER XXI

GREVILLE'S MEMOIRS

Mrs. Barclay found her room pleasant, her bed excellent, and all thearrangements and appointments simple, indeed, but quite sufficient. Thenext morning brought brilliant sunlight, glittering in the elm trees, and on the green sward which filled large spaces in the street, and onchimneys and housetops, and on the bit of the Connecticut river whichwas visible in the distance. Quiet it was certainly, and peaceful, andat the same time the sight was inspiriting. Mrs. Barclay dressed andwent down; and there she found her parlour in order, the sunlightstreaming in, and a beautiful fire blazing to welcome her.

"This is luxury!" thought she, as she took her place in a comfortablerocking-chair before the fire. "But how am I to get at mywork!" – Presently Lois came in, looking like a young rose.

"I beg pardon!" she said, greeting Mrs. Barclay, "but I left myduster – "

Has she been putting my room in order! thought the lady. This elegantcreature? But she showed nothing of her feeling; only asked Lois if shewere busy.

"No," said Lois, with a smile; "I have done. Do you want something ofme?"

"Yes, in that case. Sit down, and let us get acquain'ted."

Lois sat down, duster in hand, and looked pleasantly ready.

"I am afraid I am giving you a great deal of trouble! If you get tiredof me, you must just let me know. Will you?"

"There is no fear," Lois assured her. "We are very glad to have you. Ifonly you do not get tired of our quiet. It is very quiet, after whatyou have been accustomed to."

"Just what I want! I have been longing for the country; and the airhere is delicious. I cannot get enough of it. I keep sniffing up thesalt smell. And you have made me so comfortable! How lovely those oldelms are over the way! I could hardly get dressed, for looking at them.Do you draw?"

"I? O no!" cried Lois. "I have been to school, of course, but I havelearned only common things. I do not know anything about drawing."

"Perhaps you will let me teach you?"

The colour flashed into the girl's cheeks; she made no answer at first, and then murmured, "You are very kind!"

"One must do something, you know," Mrs. Bar clay said. "I cannot letall your goodness make me idle. I am very fond of drawing, myself; ithas whiled away many an hour for me. Besides, it enables one to keep arecord of pretty and pleasant things, wherever one goes."

"We live among our pleasant things," said Lois; "but I should thinkthat would be delightful for the people who travel."

"You will travel some day."

"No, there is no hope of that."

"You would like it, then?"

"O, who would not like it! I went with Mrs. Wishart to the Isles ofShoals last summer; and it was the first time I began to have a notionwhat a place the world is."