CHAPTER XIV_Herb of Grace

"YOU DO SAY SUCH ODD THINGS"

Womanhood should be the consecration of earth.

--U. A. Taylor

In the region of domestic affections a new and

ennobling motive came from Bethlehem--"that I may

please God."

--Knox Little.

Elizabeth put on an air of great severity as she regarded the culprit.

"Rotherwood is about a mile and a quarter from our gate," she observed,

apostrophising some midges that were dancing in a sunbeam overhead.

"You could walk there easily in twenty minutes. It is now one o'clock,

and you have been away exactly three hours and a half," and here she

consulted the miniature watch that she wore as an ornament as well as

for utility. "If it be not impertinent, may we inquire why you have

absented yourself the whole morning?"

"Oh, shut up, Bet," returned her brother impatiently. "Sarcasm is not

your style at all. It is like killing a grasshopper with a pair of

iron-heeled clogs. It is precious heavy, I can tell you."

"You rude, unmannerly boy," and here Elizabeth attempted to pull his

hair, but she might as well have tried her prentice hand on a young

convict freshly shorn by the prison barber.

"Hands off, Betty, I tell you," returned the graceless lad. "I have had

rather a good time of it. I knew Herrick was getting pretty sick of

me." Here Cedric rolled over on his back, and tilted his straw hat over

his eyes. "Familiarity breeds contempt and all that sort of thing.

Conversation is like a salad, isn't it, Herrick?--you may have plenty

of green stuff and oil, but it wants pepper and a dash of vinegar too."

"Why don't you box his ears, Miss Templeton? He is getting positively

abusive."

"I prefer pepper to oil," she returned calmly. "Well, Cedric, perhaps

you will kindly inform me if your mission has been successful."

"Oh, it is all right. David will be here to tea, but he says it will

not be cool enough to play until nearly five. Now, don't go tugging at

my coat-collar, or I won't say another word." Elizabeth, with a

resigned expression, folded up her work. "I left the vicarage note,"

continued Cedric, mollified by this submission. "Mr. Charrington was

engaged, but Mrs. Finch brought me his message--his kind regards to

Miss Templeton, and he would have much pleasure in dining at the Wood

House to-night."

"Did you tell Dinah?"

"Do I not always do my duty?" rather sententiously, "Well, before I

could get to the White Cottage I met old David. He was going to the

church to practise on the organ, and he was a bit bothered because he

could not get any one to blow, so, being a good-natured chap, I

volunteered."

"Good boy," observed Elizabeth softly.

"Well, there we were for pretty nearly an hour and a half--David

perched up like a glorified cherubim, and rolling out music by the

yard; and there was I grinding away like a saintly nigger in a beastly

hole till I could stand it no longer, and told him I must chuck it. He

declared he had quite forgotten me."

"I expect he had. Mr. Carlyon plays the organ so

beautifully"--Elizabeth was addressing Malcolm now. "My sister and I

often go into the church to listen to him."

"It must be a great resource," he returned regretfully, "and I am

inclined to envy Carlyon. I am passionately fond of music myself, but

the power of expression has been denied me."

"I would back David against most organists," went on Cedric. "Well, as

I was pretty much used up by my exertions, he proposed we should go

into the vicarage garden and help ourselves to fruit. The greengages

were ripe and so were the mulberries, and you bet I did not need

pressing."

"Mrs. Finch saw us from the porch room, and sent us out some cider and

home-make cake, so we had a rattling good feed. David said he was in a

loafing mood, and would not hear of my hurrying away."

"Mr. Carlyon does not seem overworked," remarked Malcolm; but he

regretted his speech when he saw Elizabeth's heightened colour.

"Thursday is a slack day with him," she said rather gravely. "I assure

you he works harder than most clergymen, and is very conscientious and

painstaking. He is not at all strong, but he never spares himself."

"My hasty speech meant nothing," returned Malcolm smiling. "Mr. Carlyon

is certainly no loafer--he looks the incarnation of energy."

"How doth the little busy D--

Improve each shining hour,"

chanted Cedric. But Elizabeth would stand no more nonsense. She called

to the dogs, and warned their guest that the gong would sound in five

minutes, and then marched off with her sailor hat slung on her arm,

which she filled on her way to the house with Canterbury bells and blue

larkspur.

The game of tennis was a great success. Dinah sat in the shade and

watched them.

There was some little difficulty in choosing partners, so Cedric said

they must toss up for it, and Elizabeth fell to Mr. Carlyon.

If Malcolm felt secretly disappointed, no one guessed it. To his

surprise he and Cedric were ruthlessly beaten.

Mr. Carlyon played a masterly game, and Elizabeth ably seconded him.

Malcolm, who had always held his own on the tennis green, and was an

excellent golf player, was much chagrined at his defeat. They had lost

three successive games, when Cedric flung up his racket and declared he

could play no more.

"They have given us a regular beating, mate," he said cheerfully. "You

were in capital form, Herrick, and I did not do so badly myself, though

I say it as shouldn't; but David has taken the shine out of us. I say,

old fellow, you ought to be champion player."

"I think Miss Templeton played a good game," returned David modestly,

and then he and Cedric went off to hunt for missing balls, and

Elizabeth sauntered to the house. Half an hour later she was just

putting the finishing touches to her dress when Dinah tapped at the

door, and, as Elizabeth gave her a welcoming smile, sat down by the

toilet table. It was one of Dinah's homely, pleasant little ways, but

these few minutes of sisterly chat would have been sorely missed by

both of them.

"How nice you look, dear!" in an admiring voice. Then Elizabeth glanced

at herself with her head a little on one side.

"Do I?" she said simply. "I was afraid I should never regain my normal

colour. Are you sure I don't look rather blowsy, and like a milkmaid?"

But Dinah indignantly repudiated this; it was Dinah's private belief

that Elizabeth was a very beautiful woman. "She has such lovely eyes,

and then her face has so much expression," she would say; but Dinah had

the good sense to keep this opinion to herself.

Elizabeth, who was not at all vain, and was quite conscious of her own

defects, continued to gaze at her own reflection rather critically.

"I suppose on the whole I am passable, Die," she said rather

philosophically. "When people like me they seem to like my looks; and

really when you think of all the plain and downright ugly people in the

world, there is surely room for thankfulness." "Have you just found

that out, Betty?"

"My dear Die, I am rather in a humble frame of mind just now. Don't you

recollect my telling you Mrs. Robinson's speech last Monday. I have

never thought quite so much of myself since."

"If I remember rightly, Mrs. Robinson paid you a compliment. She told

Miss Clarkson that she wished Selina were as fine a woman as Elizabeth

Templeton."

"And you call that compliment!" and Elizabeth arched her long full

throat in rather a haughty and swanlike manner. "Fancy that goose of a

Miss Clarkson repeating such a speech. A fine woman is my abhorrence.

It always seems to me to rank in the same category with a prime turkey

or a prize bullock, or something ready for the market."

"My dear Betty, you do say such odd things!"

"Of course I do. Elizabeth is nothing if she is not original. Don't you

remember dear old dad's speech? But I am really serious, Die--you know

I never coveted beauty."

"No, nor I, dear," and Dinah spoke quite earnestly.

"Oh, you," returned Elizabeth with playful tenderness. "I should hope

not. I expect many women would be glad to change with you, you sweet

thing." Then Dinah smiled and patted her sister's hand.

"No, Betty, you must not say that. I have often thought that even our

poor faces, with all their defects, ought to be sacred to us. If we are

a thought of God, as some one has beautifully put it, surely the stamp

of His handiwork must be precious to us."

"But how about the marred and ugly faces, Die?" and Elizabeth looked at

her dubiously.

"It is their cross," returned Dinah simply--"a heavy cross perhaps, but

when I see a very plain, unattractive woman I do so long to whisper in

her ear--"

"Don't trouble about it, poor thing. What does it matter? You will be

beautiful one day, and even now, if you are good and patient, the

angels will think you lovely.' Dear me, Betty," interrupting herself,

"why are you creasing my pretty silk dress."

"Lord love you, miss, I am only a-feeling for your wings," returned

Elizabeth in a droll voice, and then they both laughed, for this was a

standing joke between them ever since Dinah had repeated poor old Becky

Brent's speech, when the wrinkled hand of the blind and doited old

creature had fumbled about her shapely shoulders.

Dinah had been right in thinking that the vicar and Mr. Herrick would

have much in common, and the conversation at the dinner-table that

evening was unusually animated.

She and Elizabeth were attentive listeners, and on comparing notes

afterwards both of them owned that they had been struck with Mr.

Herrick's intelligence and broad-minded views.

The slight egotism that Elizabeth had detected seemed to drop from him

like a veil, and he showed his true nature; he was evidently a patient

and reverent searcher after knowledge, and his marked deference to the

elder scholar became him greatly. Dinah quite glowed with innocent

pleasure as she listened to them. "It is so seldom the dear vicar gets

any one to talk on his favourite subjects, but one could see that Mr.

Herrick is after his own heart," she remarked, as they sat on the

terrace drinking their coffee and waiting for the gentlemen to join

them.

"He is certainly very clever," observed Elizabeth thoughtfully.

"David was unusually quiet," went on Dinah; but her sister apparently

did not hear this, for she went on talking about the advantage of a