The Saint loved to hear Esther tell of her father and the little shop in
Barnstaple, of the prayer-meetings and the simple earnestness and
narrowness of the faith of those good Brethren. Circumstances had effaced,
though they had not obliterated, the once sharply-marked confines of her
religious habits. Her religion was like a garden--a little less sedulously
tended than of yore, but no whit less fondly loved; and while listening to
Esther's story she dreamed her own early life over again, and paused,
laying down her watering-can, penetrated with the happiness of gentle
memories. So Esther's life grew and was fashioned; so amid the ceaseless
round of simple daily occupations mistress and maid learned to know and to
love one another, and became united and strengthful in the tender and
ineffable sympathies of race and religion.
V
The summer drowsed, baking the turf on the hills, and after every gallop
the Gaffer passed his fingers along the fine legs of the crack, in fear
and apprehension lest he should detect any swelling. William came every
day for news. He had five shillings on; he stood to win five pounds
ten--quite a little fortune--and he often stopped to ask Esther if there
was any news as he made his way to the pantry. She told him that so far as
she knew Silver Braid was all right, and continued shaking the rug.
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