ith Mrs. Gaunt. So he used to make his assistant visit her, and
receive her when she came to confess, which was very rarely; for she was
discouraged by her first reception.

Brother Leonard lived in a sort of dwarf monastery, consisting of two
cottages, an oratory, and a sepulchre. The two latter were old, but the
cottages had been built expressly for him and another seminary priest
who had been invited from France. Inside, these cottages were little
more than ceils; only the bigger had a kitchen which was a glorious
place compared with the parlor; for it was illuminated with bright
pewter plates, copper vessels, brass candlesticks, and a nice clean
woman, with a plain gown kilted over a quilted silk petticoat; Betty
Scarf, an old servant of Mrs. Gaunt's, who had married, and was now the
Widow Gough.

She stood at the gate one day, as Mrs. Gaunt drove by; and courtesied,
all beaming.

Mrs. Gaunt stopped the carriage, and made some kind and patronizing
inquiries about her; and it ended in Betty asking her to come in and see
her place. Mrs. Gaunt looked a little shy at that, and did not move.
"Nay, they are both abroad till supper time," said Betty, reading her in
a moment by the light of sex. Then Mrs. Gaunt smiled, and got out of her
carriage. Betty took her in and showed her everything in doors and out.
Mrs. Gaunt looked mighty demure and dignified, but scanned everything
closely, only without seeming too curious.

The cold gloom of the parlor struck her. She shuddered, and said, "This
would give me the vapors. But, doubtless, angels come and brighten it
for _him_."

"Not always," said Betty. "I do see him with his head in his hand by the
hour, and hear him sigh ever so loud as I pass the door. Why, one day
he was fain to have me and my spinning-wheel aside him. Says he, 'Let me
hear thy busy wheel, and see thee ply it.' 'And welcome,' says I. So I
sat in his room, and span, and he sat a gloating of me as if he had
never seen a woman spin hemp afore (he is a very simple man): and
presently says he--but what signifies what _he_ said?"

"Nay, Betty; if you please! I am much interested in him. He preaches so
divinely."

"Ay," said Betty, "that's his gift. But a poor trencher-man; and I
declare I'm ashamed to eat all the vittels that are eaten here, and me
but a woman."

"But what did he say to you that time?" asked Mrs. Gaunt, a little
impatiently.

Betty cudgelled her memory. "Well, says he, 'My daughter,' (t