"It's a fine evening, anyhow," said he.
"We shall have rain."
"Rain!" and Matthew looked up overhead, but not a vestige of a cloud or sign of a storm could he see.
"Yes, rain, heavy rain, like the weeping of a stricken, woeful heart."
And she was passing on; but Matthew could not let her go so; he must have the charm, even at the risk of offending her again. He had thought of it for days past, it was the one wish of his heart; he had longed and sought for this opportunity and it must not slip through his fingers thus, so he said meekly, but still rather doubtfully,
"Well it may be going to rain; yer know a deal better than I do, and I won't gainsay yer? we shall know fast enough afore night closes in. And now Mrs. Grey will yer give me the charm?"
"You don't need any charm."
"Can't be done without," said he decidedly. "I've tried everything else I know of, and it ain't no use," said he despairingly.
"Well," said Goody Grey, after a moment's consideration, "do you see this box?" and she took a small box out of her pocket and filled it with some of the fine gravel from his garden, whilst Matthew looked eagerly on as if his life depended on it. "When next you are on your road to the Brampton Arms, and are close to the yew tree which grows within a stone's throw of the door, turn back, and when you reach home again take the box out of your pocket and throw away one of the stones, and don't stir forth again, save to answer the 'pike, for the rest of the evening."