"Is there anything to be read aloud?" presently asked Alick.

"You have not by chance got 'Framley Parsonage?'"

"I wish I had. I did pick up 'Silas Marner,' at a station, thinking you

might like it," and he glanced at Rachel, who had, he suspected, thought

his purchase an act of weakness. "Have you met with it?"

"I have met with nothing of the sort since you were here last;" then

turning to Rachel, "Alick indulges me with novels, for my good curate

had rather read the catalogue of a sale any day than meddle with one,

and I can't set on my pupil teacher in a book where I don't know what is

coming."

"We will get 'Framley,'" said Alick.

"Bessie has it. She read me a very clever scene about a weak young

parson bent on pleasing himself; and offered to lend me the book, but I

thought it would not edify Will Walker. But, no doubt, you have read it

long ago."

"No," said Rachel; and something withheld her from disclaiming such

empty employments. Indeed, she was presently much interested in the

admirable portraiture of "Silas Marner," and still more by the keen,

vivid enjoyment, critical, droll, and moralizing, displayed by a man who

heard works of fiction so rarely that they were always fresh to him, and

who looked on them as studies of life. His hands were busy all the time

carving a boss for the roof of one of the side aisles of his church--the

last step in its gradual restoration.

That night there was no excitement of nerve, no morbid fancy to trouble

Rachel's slumbers; she only awoke as the eight o'clock bell sounded

through the open window, and for the first time for months rose

less weary than she had gone to rest. Week-day though it were, the

description "sweet day, so calm, so cool, so bright," constantly

recurred to her mind as she watched the quiet course of occupation.

Alick, after escorting his uncle to a cottage, found her searching among

the stores in the music stand.

"You unmusical female," he said, "what is that for?"

"Your uncle spoke of music last night, and I thought he would like it."

"I thought you had no such propensity."

"I learnt like other people, but it was the only thing I could not do

as well as Grace, and I thought it wasted time, and was a young ladyism;

but if can recover music enough to please him, I should be glad."

"Thank you," said Alick, earnestly. "He is very much pleased with your

voice in speaking. Indeed, I believe I first heard it with his ears."

"This is a thorough lady's collection of music," said Rachel, looking

through it to hide her blush of pleasure. "Altogether the house has not

a bachelor look."




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