"Yore sister?"
"All I have left. There have been many between, but we are the last, and so we're very good friends."
"An' so ye should. A fine name yon, Grace Eager. An' what are yore graces, an' what are yo' eager for, missie?"
"She's full of all graces and eager for all good, like her big brother. Isn't that it, Gracie?" laughed Charles, to cover her confusion at so pointed a questioning.
She nodded and squeezed his hand and skipped by his side, and so they came back to the house.
"Someun to see yo', Kattrin," he said, as he opened the door and ushered them in.
It was but a small room and the furnishings were of the simplest, but everything was spick-and-span in its ordered brightness. There was a small fire with a kettle on the hob, and in one corner was a bed with a sweet-faced woman in it, propped up with pillows so that she could look out of the window.
"Yo're welcome, whoever yo' are," she said.
"It's new curate, Mr. Eager, an' 's li'll sister."
"Ech, a'm glad to see yo', sir, though we don't trouble church much here. Nivver set eyes on last curate, nivver once."