"Are you all here to-night?" he asked, as the distribution went on.
"No, sir," was the answer from several who spoke at once. "Betty King's away."
"What is the matter with her?"
"The rheumaticks have laid hold on her, sir. She couldn't get here nohow. She's in her bed."
"I must go and see her," said he. "What, are you here again, Martha?" he continued, as a little deformed woman stepped from behind the rest, where she had been hidden. "I am glad to see you."
"Six blessed weeks this day, and I've not been able to come!" exclaimed the woman. "But I'm restored wonderful."
The distribution was approaching its close, when the rector spoke to his clerk. "Call in Eliza Turner."
The clerk placed on the table the four or five remaining loaves, that each woman might help herself during his absence, and went out to the door.
"'Liza Turner, his reverence has called for you."
A sigh of delight from Eliza Turner, and a groan of disappointment from those surrounding her, greeted the clerk in answer. He took no notice—he often heard it—but turned and limped into the church again. Eliza Turner followed; and another woman slipped in after Eliza Turner.