into the nearer hay-field, he saw Harold put up his hand, and point
to the open window, as if he were telling the other lad about the
sick boy who was lying there.

He was so much absorbed in thus watching, that he did not pay much
heed to what interested his mother and sister--the reports which came
by every customer about the new clergyman, who, it appeared, had been
staying in the next parish till yesterday, when he had moved into the
Rectory; and Mrs. Bonham, the butcher's wife, reported that the
Rectory servants said he was come to stay till their master came
back. All this and much more Mrs. King heard and rehearsed to Ellen,
while Alfred lay, sometimes reading the 'Swiss Robinson,' sometimes
watching the loading of the wains, as they creaked slowly through the
fields, the horses seeming to enjoy the work, among their fragrant
provender, as much as the human kind. When five o'clock struck,
Harold gave no signs of quitting the scene of action; and Mrs. King,
in much anxiety lest the letters should be late, sent Helen to get
the pony ready, while she herself went into the field to call the
boy.

Very unwilling he was to come--he shook his shoulders, and growled
and grumbled, and said he should be in plenty of time, and he wished
the post was at the bottom of the sea. Nothing but his mother's
orders and the necessity of the case could have made him go at all.
At last he walked off, as if he had lead in his feet, muttering that
he wished he had not some one to be always after him. Mrs. King
looked at the grimy face of his disreputable-looking companion, and
wondered whether he had put such things into his head.

Very cross was Harold as he twitched the bridle out of Ellen's hand,