"I should have been utterly disheartened," said the weary curate to his uncle on the Sunday evening, "had not Nancy Sands been seated just before me, looking so quiet, attentive, and earnest. When I remember what she was, and see what she is, I feel that I dare never despair."
"Oh, rest in the Lord, wait patiently for him, and he shall give thee thy heart's desire," repeated the vicar.
Difficulties were however to thicken, and trials to increase. An incident occurred on the following day which caused great excitement through the village of Colme.
XXXIV.
Put to the Question.
Persis sat with her work in her hand by her open window in the little room over that in which the school was assembled below. Pleasant to her ear was the hum of voices rising from beneath, for it told her that her husband was, as usual, opening the day by devotion, and her busy needle stopped, and she silently joined in the Lord's prayer repeated by many young voices.
Persis was then about to set to her work again, when, chancing to glance out of the window, her attention was drawn to three gentlemen walking along the road, each smoking a cigar. Though Mrs. Franks had not before seen the baronet, who never appeared at church, she instantly recognized him as the central person in the group, by the description which she had heard of him. There was no mistaking the short, thick figure, the face where the color lay in patches of purplish-red, and the hat cocked a good deal upon one side, over a mass of sandy-colored hair. Sir Lacy's companions were a young lawyer and a medical student, neither of whom looked as if they would be likely to do much credit to their respective professions.
Persis Franks dropped her work on her knees, instinctively clasped her hands, and drew back a little from the window, while keeping her eyes anxiously fixed upon the unwelcome strangers.
"I hope and trust that they'll pass by the school without entering it," she said to herself, while the sound of their coarse laughter grew louder as they drew nearer.