o better than I what I have
been doing for twenty years."

"If you feel like that, I won't write another letter," declared Hester.

"That would be very foolish, my dear. And now I will tell you another
thing. Suppose that this discovery hurt me a little, yet see how good God
is in keeping back all these years until a moment when my heart happens to
be so full of good news that it forgets the soreness in a moment; and
again, how wise in gently correcting and reminding me of weakness when I
might be puffing myself up and believing that all my good fortune came of
my own merit."

"What is your good news, dear Mr. Benny?"

"You shall hear later on when I have told my wife."

More than an hour later, having dismissed her clients (for the last of
whom she had to compose a love-letter, the first she had written in her
life), Hester stepped across to the cottage to announce that her work was
over and ask if she might now turn down the lamps and rake out the stove.

The Bennys' kitchen at first glance was uninhabited; and yet, as she
opened the door, she had heard voices within. Dropping her eyes to a
lower level, she halted on the threshold and would have withdrawn without
noise. In the penumbra beyond the circle of the lamp and the white
tablecloth Mr. and Mrs. Benny, Nuncey, and Shake were kneeling by their
chairs on the limeash, giving thanks.

While Hester hesitated, the little man lifted his head, and, catching
sight of her, sprang to his feet. "Step ye in, my dear, and join with us!
For you, too, have news to hear and be thankful for."

"But tell me your own good news and let me first be thankful for that."

"Do'ee really feel like that towards us?" asked Nuncey, rising and coming
forward with joy and eager love in her eyes.

"I ought to, surely, after these months of kindness."

"Well, then--but first of all I must kiss 'ee, you dear thing!--well,
then, Dad's been offered Damelioc stewardship, and you're to be Mistress
of the Widows' Houses, and we're all going to be rich as Creases for ever
and ever, Amen!"

"Croesus, my dear--besides, we're going to be nothing of the sort,"
protested her father.

Nuncey swept down upon him, caught him in her strong embrace, implanted a
sound kiss on the top of his head, and held him at arms' length with a
hand on either shoulder.

"You're a dear little well-to-do father, and the best in the world.
But oh! you've come nigh breaking my heart these three months--for