Davenant.
NOT one word did Nathan Blyth breathe to Lucy of his unsatisfactory interview with Philip Fuller. He was more affected than he cared to own, and went about his work with an absent and a heavy heart. Quick to read all the changes in her father’s moods, Lucy soon missed his cheery anvil song, and wondered what dark cloud had come to cast its shadow over him. In vain she sought his confidence. Seeing her anxiety, Nathan sought to deceive her by a constrained pleasantry and a heartless song. But Nathan was a poor hand at playing the hypocrite, and Lucy’s loving eyes were not to be deceived.
When Philip returned home, his father’s first glance at the sad and excited face told him that his errand, as he feared, had been in vain. This, instead of giving him pleasure, as it would once have done, increased alike his admiration of the character of the village blacksmith, and his desire to secure his peerless daughter as a life-mate for his son.
“I’ll go myself,” said the old man, when Philip had described his unsatisfactory and disheartening interview.
“That will be of no use,” said Philip; “he told me that even if you came, his mind would not alter, and Nathan Blyth always means what he says.”
The next morning the squire wrote a note to Lucy, to inform her that a piece of land, admirably situated in the centre of the village, was at the disposal of the Methodists, and that he had given orders for its transfer to Farmer Houston, free of cost. Great was Lucy’s rejoicing at this glorious victory, and Nathan Blyth was compelled to admire the tone of the letter which announced the grateful and timely gift. It breathed such love and esteem for Lucy, and what struck the blacksmith still more forcibly, it displayed such a spirit of Christian piety, and was marked by such a genuine religious feeling, that Natty wondered more and more.
That evening Farmer Houston, Nathan Blyth, and Adam Olliver were seated in the dining-room of the former, when Mr. Houston read the note which he had himself received, and which ran as follows:—
“My Dear Houston,—When you last made a request to me for a piece of land on which to build a Methodist chapel, I imagined that I had sufficient reasons for refusing, and I did refuse accordingly. Subsequent events and a careful study of the whole matter have convinced me that I was in the wrong. I have now given orders for the transfer to you of a plot of ground on Nestleton Green, believing as I do, that the erection of the desired sanctuary will be of great moral and spiritual advantage to the village, and will be to the praise and glory of God. I shall be glad when your scheme is ripe to render further aid to your godly undertaking.
“Yours faithfully,
“Ainsley Fuller.”