Minnie was roused from a reverie by the entrance of the preacher's tall figure into the kitchen, where the fire was now beginning to throw ruddy lights and fantastic shadows on to the white-washed walls.
"Don't be startled, Mr. Powell," she said, in her clear, sweet tones. "It is I—Minnie Bodkin. I thought I should like to see you, and to say a few words to you, quietly."
Powell advanced, and took her outstretched hand reverently in his hand. "The blessing of our Father in Heaven be on you, lady," he said. "Your kind face is very welcome to me."
CHAPTER XV.
Mrs. Thimbleby set a cup full of hot tea and a slice of bread on the table, and glided out of the kitchen in a humble, noiseless way, as if she feared lest the mere sound of her footsteps should be deemed importunate.
"You have something to say to me?" asked Powell, still standing opposite to Minnie's chair.
"Yes; but first you must take some food. Please to sit down there at the table."
Powell shook his head. "Food disgusts me," he said. "I do not need it."
"That will pain your kind landlady," said Minnie, gently. "She has been so careful to get this refreshment ready for you."