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"He didn't really say that."
"No, not exactly in them words, but that was what he meant, an' we all took it that way."
"So you think that the archdeacon made it all the harder for the new clergyman by what he said last night, do you?" Douglas asked.
"Sure," Jake replied, as he helped himself to another pancake. "Didn't ye notice the feelin' in the meetin', an' how Si changed? Why, he looked jist like a thunder cloud about to bust. I sartinly do pity the new parson. He's goin' to have a hard time of it, mark my word."
"I had a little talk with Stubbles after the meeting," Douglas quietly remarked.
"Ye did, eh?" and Jake's eyes glowed with interest. "Was he surprised to see ye?"
"I believe so. He thought I was going to knock him down, and he raved like a madman. But I told him a few straight facts which he is not likely to forget."
"Ye did, eh? Bully fer you! But be careful, John. Si won't fergit anything, an' he'll come back at ye when ye'r least expectin' him."
"I told him that I am going to stay right in the parish, and that he couldn't drive me out."
"Good for you!" Mrs. Jukes exclaimed. "I like to hear a man talk that way. If the rest in Rixton would do the same Si would be taught a lesson in a short time. But they all lie down and let him walk over them."
"Ye'r always sayin' that, Susie," Jake chided. "Ye ought to know by this time what a grip Si has on everything in this parish."
"Well, it's about time, then, that he lost his grip. If there was only some one with any backbone who would go ahead, the rest would follow all right. People are getting sick and tired of the Stubbles' rule."
"Maybe the new parson'll be that kind of a man," Jake suggested.
"'Spose we wait till he comes."
"H'm," and Mrs. Jukes tossed her head, "a great chance he'll have to go ahead with everybody willing to crawl before Si Stubbles and lick his boots. Why, just as soon as Si snaps his finger all the men dance attendance, and you know it, Jake Jukes. You do the same yourself."
"But maybe the new parson might be able to do something," Jake replied, as he mopped his forehead with a big red handkerchief. He was feeling very hot and uncomfortable before his wife's attack.
"He'll be very different, then, from the last two we had," Mrs. Jukes retorted. "I'm not expecting much from him, judging from the past."
Douglas was considerably amused at this conversation. He wondered what Jake and his wife would say if they were suddenly told that the "new parson" was before them. He was finding the part he was playing more interesting every day. How it would end, and how he would explain matters, he had not the least idea. He did not worry, however, leaving the future to take care of itself.
That afternoon Douglas paid a visit to Mrs. Dempster. He wished to find out for himself how Jean was getting along, and also to listen to the widow, for he enjoyed hearing her talk, and her comments upon parish affairs.
Mrs. Dempster was cooking in the kitchen, and Jean was lying on a sofa near the stove, to all appearance asleep.
"It's right glad I am to see ye," and Mrs. Dempster placed a chair for her visitor as she spoke. "It's a dull day and not many people stirrin'. Empty's gone to his nets, so me an' Jean have been havin' a quiet time all by ourselves."
"A busy time for you, I see," Douglas replied, glancing toward the table. "Those pies look very tempting."
"Oh, yes, it makes me hustle all right to fill Empty. I often tell him he's well named, fer I never saw any one who eats as much as he does."
"All mothers say the same thing, don't they? Growing lads need plenty of food. It's better to pay the grocer than the doctor, isn't it?"'
Mrs. Dempster paused in her work and glanced toward the still form on the sofa.
"I guess she'll need the doctor before long, if I'm not much mistaken,"
she remarked in a low voice. "Poor child, she's had a hard time of it since she went to the city. Who'd a thought that bright an' happy Jean Benton would have come to this?"
"Is she very sick, do you think?" Douglas asked as he looked toward the sleeping woman.
Mrs. Dempster did not at once reply. She placed a pie in the oven, and then turned to her visitor.
"Guess we'd better step outside fer a minute," she suggested. "We kin talk freer in the open air."
"There, that's better," Mrs. Dempster panted as she closed the door behind her. "Ye kin never tell when sleeping people will wake an' make matters uncomfortable. Now, look here, sir, I want ye to do me a favour."
"All right," Douglas a.s.sented. "What is it?"
"I want ye to ask Nell to come here as soon as she kin. There's somethin' I want to speak to her about. She's the only woman in the place I care to ask. She's got more sense than all the rest put together, which is sayin' a good deal."
"When do you want her to come?"
"Oh, to-morrow will do. I don't want her to come over to-night, as it's wet an' the roads are so muddy. Jist tell her to come when she gits time."
"So you think Jean is sick?"
"Yes, very. But she'll be sicker before she gits better, poor dear.
But there, I must git back to my work. It was good of ye to come over."
Douglas was only too glad of an excuse to visit the Strongs. It was dark by the time he reached the house, as he had been delayed owing to the cattle going astray from the pasture. The door was opened by Nan, who gave a cry of delight when she saw Douglas standing before her.
"My, you have been a long time coming to see us again," she chided. "I have been watching for you every day."
It was a pleasant home-like scene which met Douglas' eyes as he entered the little sitting-room. The professor was seated in his big chair by the side of the table. Nell was sitting opposite, peeling and coring apples. Nan had been reading to her father, and the book was lying open on the table where she had hurriedly left it upon the arrival of the visitor. Douglas received a cordial welcome from Nell and the professor.
"I hope I am not interrupting your quietness," he apologised, as he sat down near the old man.
"I'm very glad you have interrupted the quietness," Nan quickly replied. "I'm sick and tired of Shakespeare. He's getting on my nerves."
"Nan, Nan, you must not talk of the master in that way," her father chided.
"I thought that you did the reading," Douglas remarked, turning to Nell.
"So I do, as a rule," was the smiling reply. "But Nan doesn't like peeling apples, and so she preferred to read."
"Ugh! apples stain my fingers and make them feel horrid," Nan exclaimed in disgust. "I would rather read anything--even Shakespeare."
"How is your work getting on, sir?" Douglas enquired, turning toward the professor.
"Slowly, very slowly, these days," was the reply. "There are several points I wish to think out carefully before I put them in writing. But we can talk about such matters again. I am eager now to hear about the Church meeting which was held last night. I suppose you were there?"
"Oh, yes, I wished to see and hear the new archdeacon, Dr. Rannage."
"What, was he there?"