“It is that silly, preaching woman,” said Thorsby. “What does she mean by coming here and croaking of all sorts of trouble, like a confounded old beldame as she is?”
“Gently!” said Leonard Woodburn. “If no evil is meant us, Mrs. Heritage cannot and does not wish to bring it. If some evil does impend over us—for what mortal shall say that he is insurance-proof against it?—let us rather pray earnestly that it may be averted, or that we may have strength given us to bear it. But all that she means, probably, are the inevitable trials that this life sends us all. It is merely her Quaker language.”
By this time Letty had recovered her consciousness, opened her eyes, sprung up, saying, “Oh! what have I been doing? Why are you all standing there, and looking so strange?”
“My dear child,” said Mrs. Woodburn, kissing her, “you were too much excited by Mrs. Heritage’s sermon; you have fainted; you had better go to bed.”
Letty gave a shudder, wiped her face, on which the tears stood glittering, and said, “Oh, why did she talk so! What could possess her! Yes, mother dear, I will go to bed.” She smiled, kissed her father, throwing her arms round his neck, shook hands with the rest, and sprang away upstairs, followed by Ann—who was also deeply moved—and her mother.
CHAPTER VIII.
A NICE SAMPLE OF FARMERS.
About ten o’clock in the morning, Harry Thorsby rode into the farm-yard at Woodburn Grange, gave his horse to the groom, and entered the house-place from the garden. There sat the whole family—a perfectly rural group—George excepted. The ample bay-window of that large cool room was thrown open on the sunny side, and the sunshine and shadow flickered pleasantly amongst the rose and jasmine boughs round the window. On the cool brick-floor stood a large basket of ripe gooseberries, and Mrs. Woodburn and Ann were busy clipping off their eyes and stalks, and dropping them into dishes on their knees, in preparation for preserving. Mr. Woodburn sat on the other side of the circle, shelling peas—a job he was very fond of—into a shallow basket on his knees, from a large one on another chair at his side. Letty sat on a scarlet cushion on the floor in the middle, reading from some book to the rest. She was in a white morning-dress, and Thorsby’s eyes were first directed to her.
“Good morning!” said he, pleasantly, “all you very useful people. And you, Letty?”
Letty brightened up with a rosy blush and brilliant eyes, and said, “Oh, quite well!”