They talked about the weather, about the new tenant in the next farm—all three seemed anxious to talk, and yet there were awkward pauses, and Phebe could not bring herself to mention her scheme. The Spirit of the Past seemed to hold them.
The sister must have known Phebe's thoughts, for all at once she said: "It's no use waiting for mother to announce tea to-day. I must get it ready myself."
"Let me help you," said Phebe.
"No, you sit and talk with Stephen." She still called him by his Christian name.
Phebe poked the fire, and swept some dust from the hearth, conscious all the time that Stephen was watching her closely. When she took her seat again they were both silent, till at last Stephen said:
"Mrs. Waring, I have not the slightest idea what it is you wish me to do for you, but rest assured whatever it is I will do my utmost to fulfil your wish. Please do not hesitate. Trust me."
"Trust you! There is no need to tell me to do that. I do not hesitate because of any thought of unwillingness or mistrust—never that." For the first time their eyes met and she could not resist putting her hand on his, just for an instant. "Why I hesitate is because I am going to ask so much, and you may not think my plan a wise one."
"You need not hesitate on either of those points. I have plenty of time at my disposal, and I should not put my judgment before yours."
"I don't think for a minute my sister will agree to my scheme."
"Then we must try to convert her."