When the snow came in December she remonstrated with him once about his boots, and on looking at the marks of his footsteps on the stairs he was filled with remorse, as he recognised that he had made unnecessary work for Rachel.
But he forgot it next time, and his wife felt that to remind him again and again would only worry and fret him. For she recognised that the work he had to get through was immense and that it was her duty to make life as easy for him as possible. He worked far too hard, and it seemed to Rachel that the time he could spend in his own home grew shorter every month. She was getting used to it, and though at times the winter evenings felt long to her, and it was somewhat of an effort not to give way to low spirits, she fought bravely against melancholy, and always had a smile of welcome for her husband.
She had made a few friends by the winter and now and then Mrs. Stone would run in with her knitting to spend the evening with her.
Rachel was conscious that Luke by his outspokenness made enemies and that all was not harmonious in the parish, so it was a comfort to know that in Mrs. Stone, both she and her husband had a valiant supporter, and that she would act as peacemaker whenever she had the chance.
It must be confessed, however, that Mrs. Stone liked the role she had undertaken for she was very fond of giving advice. She had taken a fancy to Rachel and pitied her. Mrs. Greville, senior, was no favourite of hers, and though Rachel was far too loyal to talk over her husband's mother with any parishioner, Mrs. Stone could not but gather sometimes from silences on Rachel's part, and by what she saw and heard from others, that Mrs. Greville was deeply disappointed in her son's wife; and naturally a sensitive girl like Rachel must be aware of the fact. It was to Mrs. Stone's credit that she kept her views to herself and discussed no-one belonging to the Vicar with his parishioners.
In the New Year it was quite evident to those who had much to do with the parish that there had arisen a feeling of discontent among some of the people, specially among members of the choir, as lately the Public Hall had been opened on Sunday evenings at 8 o'clock for what was termed a sacred concert, and the Vicar's long sermons prevented the men from getting to the Hall before the concert began; consequently as the place was packed they had to take back seats.
When this came to Mrs. Stone's ears, she wondered if she could not help matters by giving Rachel a hint as to the way the wind was blowing. Consequently she went to see her one afternoon. The winter was passed, and the first flowers had arrived in Rachel's little garden. She insisted in calling her yard a garden, and had planted wild hyacinths as well as primroses to remind her of her home in the country. The hyacinths were beginning to show.
Mrs. Stone found her looking down rather pensively at her few flowers.
On hearing the door open Rachel called her visitor into the garden.
"I am trying to imagine I am in the woods at home," she said laughing. "By now they must be a sheet of blue. In the distance it looks almost like a cloud of blue fallen to earth. I can't tell you how lovely it is."