"There had never been such goings on at Tincroft House—" as the village grocer said to the village butcher—"any time within the last twenty years."
"And that's ever since the place has been inhabited in the memory of man," responded the purveyor of beef and mutton.
There never had been such good times at Tincroft House, in John's memory, at least, as were now inaugurated. It had come at last. He had striven for it, and patiently waited for it; and it had come. And he never felt more secure in the affection and entire confidence of his Sarah than when he saw her tenderly watching over the sick man, once her lover.
And so time passed on. A long dreary winter was succeeded by the premonitions of spring. Crocuses and snowdrops and hepaticas pushed themselves out of the ground, in the flower garden beneath the young Helen's window; and, with the returning milder weather, the more distressing symptoms of Wilson's disorder somewhat abated. Not that it was believed he would recover, or even, for any length of time, rally. That he was slowly dying, he himself knew, and all around him knew it; but still his strength for a time increased. He had even ventured occasionally, when the midday sun shone out, to walk—well wrapped up—on the dry gravel paths of the flower garden, leaning his feeble frame on John's arm.
On one of these occasions the invalid halted in his slow progress, and turned to his supporter.
"In all the time I have been here, and living at your cost—I and my Helen—we have never spoken a word about money matters," said he, breathing hard.
"Really," replied John, "I don't know what there is to say, Walter." (For John had learned to call his guest by his familiar name.) "All I can say is that you are heartily welcome to the small accommodation we have been able provide for you. I only wish it had been larger."
"That is all very well, and I am sure you mean what you say, Mr. Tincroft; but we ought to be coming to an understanding. I don't want to be living at free cost. I can afford to pay for what we eat and drink, I hope."
"I have no doubt of it, my friend; but we will not discuss that question now," rejoined John; "there will be time enough for that another day. But there is something I have been thinking about. May I mention it?"
