he thought that he was coming home used to make her radiant
for days before. She used to come tapping at my door before dinner, and
sit down for a little talk. "I know what you are thinking about, Beth!"
"What is it, dear?" "Why, about Hugh, of course! You don't care for
anyone else when he is coming." "No, don't say that, dear--but I _am_
pleased to think that Master Hugh is coming home for a bit--I hope he
won't be very tired!" And she used to smooth down her apron with her
toil-worn hands and beam to herself at the prospect. He always went and
sat with her for a little in the evenings, in her room full of all the
old nursery treasures, and imitated her smilingly. "Nay, now, child!
I've spoken, and that is enough!" he used to say, while she laughed for
delight. She used to say farewell to him with tears, and wave her
handkerchief at the window till the carriage was out of sight. Even in
her last long illness, as she faded out of life, at over ninety years of
age, she was made perfectly happy by the thought that he was in the
house, and only sorry that she could not look after his things.

Beth had had but little education; she could read a little in a
well-known book, but writing was always a slow and difficult business;
but she used slowly to compile a little letter from time to time to
Hugh, and I find the following put away among the papers of his Eton
days and schoolboy correspondence:

Addington Park,

[? _Nov._ 1887] _Tuesday._

Dearest,--One line to tell you I am sending your Box
to-morrow Wednesday. I hope you will get it before tea-time. I
know you will like something for tea, you can keep your cake for
your Birthday. I shall think about you on Friday. Everybody has
gone away, so I had no one to write for me. I thought you would
not mind me writing to you.--Dearest love from your dear

Beth.

The dear Beth lived wholly in love and service; she loved just as she
worked, endlessly and ungrudgingly; wherever Beth is, she will find
service to render and children to love; and I cannot think that she has
not found the way to her darling, and he to her.

III

TRURO

We all went off again to Truro in 1877, when my father was made Bishop.
The tradition was that as the train, leaving Lincoln, drew up after five
minutes at th