"Oh no, that would be impossible. And uncle will not have visitors. Indeed, they would not stay a day. We are very poor, and our food is the very simplest. I have not the means to make them comfortable. I did think of it once, but Uncle Edgar would not hear of it."
"Well, if you are badly off, could you not have 'Teas' for visitors? The hotel farther on is being shut up, I hear. It would be rather fun for you, and teas are quite easy to manage. Let me tell you of an old couple who live in another lonely part of the Fells. The sister told me she was never lonely nor unhappy. That the visitors who came for her teas brightened her life."
Anstice went on, giving an account of old Tommy Nixon and his sister.
Louise listened, but her face did not lighten; she only shook her head.
"Uncle Edgar wouldn't allow it—I know he would not."
"Then I shall try and get you a wireless set, that will amuse and interest you during the winter; and you must come over to me as often as you can. I wish you would take up gardening; that would occupy and interest you all the summer. I am quite certain that a busy life is what you want."
"I might try flowers," said Louise doubtfully; "but the truth is, I don't care about anything enough to take trouble over it."
"No, I suppose you don't. And my suggestions are only surface ones. They don't touch your depths. Will you let me do a little probing? You see, we are comparative strangers. I want to help you, if I can. I know what you really need, at least I think I do. I know what would give you a fresh start and new vision of life. For I have only lately got it myself, and I am longing for every one I know to have it."
Louise looked at her with interest, Anstice put her hand on her shoulder.
"Tell me, dear, is your religion a real joy and comfort to you, or is it only an empty form?"