and now and drew it under her own arm.

"You look very happy to-night, dear child," she said. "I shall think of
you often when I'm at Snowfield, and see your face before me as it is
now. It's a strange thing--sometimes when I'm quite alone, sitting in
my room with my eyes closed, or walking over the hills, the people I've
seen and known, if it's only been for a few days, are brought before me,
and I hear their voices and see them look and move almost plainer than
I ever did when they were really with me so as I could touch them. And
then my heart is drawn out towards them, and I feel their lot as if
it was my own, and I take comfort in spreading it before the Lord and
resting in His love, on their behalf as well as my own. And so I feel
sure you will come before me."

She paused a moment, but Hetty said nothing.

"It has been a very precious time to me," Dinah went on, "last night
and to-day--seeing two such good sons as Adam and Seth Bede. They are so
tender and thoughtful for their aged mother. And she has been telling
me what Adam has done, for these many years, to help his father and his
brother; it's wonderful what a spirit of wisdom and knowledge he has,
and how he's ready to use it all in behalf of them that are feeble. And
I'm sure he has a loving spirit too. I've noticed it often among my
own people round Snowfield, that the strong, skilful men are often the
gentlest to the women and children; and it's pretty to see 'em carrying
the little babies as if they were no heavier than little birds. And the
babies always seem to like the strong arm best. I feel sure it would be
so with Adam Bede. Don't you think so, Hetty?"

"Yes," said Hetty abstractedly, for her mind had been all the while
in the wood, and she would have found it difficult to say what she was
assenting to. Dinah saw she was not inclined to talk, but there would
not have been time to say much more, for they were now at the yard-gate.

The still twilight, with its dying western red and its few faint
struggling stars, rested on the farm-yard, where there was not a sound
to be heard but the stamping of the cart-horses in the stable. It was
about twenty minutes after sunset. The fowls were all gone to roost,
and the bull-dog lay stretched on the straw outside his kennel, with
the black-and-tan terrier by his side, when the falling-to of the gate
disturbed them and set them barking, like good officials, before they
had any distinct knowledge of the rea