in his eyes toward the hills
which lie betwixt him and the Father. O _Edith_, thank God that He hath
spared thee such a sorrow as that!"

It was about six weeks after that even, when one wet morrow, as I was
aiding Aunt _Joyce_ to turn the apples in her store-chamber, and gather
into a basket such as lacked use, that _Barbara_, the cook-maid, come in
with her hands o'er flour, to say--

"Mistress, here at the base door is a poor blind man, begging for broken
victuals. Would you have me give him that beef-bone you set aside for
broth?"

"A blind man?" saith Aunt _Joyce_. "Then shall he not go empty. I am
coming down, _Bab_, and will look to him myself. Bring him out of the
rain to the kitchen fire, and if he have a dog that leadeth him, find
the poor animal some scraps.--Now, _Edith_, bring thy basket, and I will
take mine."

"He hath no dog, Mistress," saith _Bab_; "'twas a lad that brought him."

"Then the lad may have an apple," saith Aunt _Joyce_, "which the dog
should scantly shake his tail for. Go and bring them in, _Bab_; I shall
be after thee presently."

So down came we into the kitchen, where was sat the blind man and the
lad. We set down our baskets, and I gave the lad an apple at a sign
from Aunt _Joyce_, which went toward the blind man and 'gan ask him if
he were of those parts.

He was a comely man of (I would judge) betwixt sixty and seventy years,
and had a long white beard. He essayed to rise when Aunt _Joyce_ spake.

"Nay, sit still, friend," saith she: "I dare reckon thou art aweary."

"Ay," saith he in a sad tone: "weary of life and all things that be in
it."

"Ay so?" quoth she. "And how, then, of thine hope for the life beyond,
where they never rest, yet are never weary?"

"Mistress," saith he, "the sinner that hath been pardoned a debt of ten
thousand talents may have peace, but can scarce dare rise to hope."

"I am alway fain when a man reckoneth his debt heavy," saith Aunt
_Joyce_. "We be mostly so earnest to persuade ourselves that we owe no
farthing beyond an hundred pence."

"I could never persuade myself of that," saith he, shaking his white
head. "I have plunged too deep in the mire to have any chance to doubt
the conditions of my clothing."

It struck me that his manner of speech was something beyond a common
beggar, and I could not but marvel if he had seen better days.

"And what askest, friend?" saith Aunt _Joyce_, winch turned away from
him and busied herse