The old woman had not yet returned from church, or from the
weekly gossip or neighbourly tea which succeeded. The husband sat
in the kitchen, spelling the psalms for the day in his
Prayer-book, and reading the words out aloud--a habit he had
acquired from the double solitude of his life, for he was deaf.
He did not hear the quiet entrance of the pair, and they were
struck with the sort of ghostly echo which seems to haunt
half-furnished and uninhabited houses. The verses he was reading
were the following:--

"Why art thou so vexed, O my soul: and why art thou so disquieted
within me? O put thy trust in God: for I will yet thank him,
which is the help of my countenance, and my God."

And when he had finished he shut the book, and sighed with the
satisfaction of having done his duty. The words of holy trust,
though, perhaps, they were not fully understood, carried a
faithful peace down into the depths of his soul. As he looked up,
he saw the young couple standing in the middle of the floor. He
pushed his iron-rimmed spectacles on to his forehead, and rose
to greet the daughter of his old master and ever-honoured
mistress.

"God bless thee, lass! God bless thee! My old eyes are glad to
see thee again."

Ruth sprang forward to shake the horny hand stretched forward in
the action of blessing. She pressed it between both of hers, as
she rapidly poured out questions. Mr. Bellingham was not