‘Come on Friday, if you can,’ were her last words as she stood at the curate-door, shading her eyes from the sinking sun with her hand.  Inside the house sate cousin Phillis, her golden hair, her dazzling complexion, lighting up the corner of the vine-shadowed room.  She had not risen when I bade her good-by; she had looked at me straight as she said her tranquil words of farewell.

I found Mr Holdsworth down at the line, hard at work superintending.  As Soon as he had a pause, he said, ’Well, Manning, what are the new cousins like?  How do preaching and farming seem to get on together?  If the minister turns out to be practical as well as reverend, I shall begin to respect him.’

But he hardly attended to my answer, he was so much more occupied with directing his work-people.  Indeed, my answer did not come very readily; and the most distinct part of it was the mention of the invitation that had been given me.

’Oh, of course you can go—­and on Friday, too, if you like; there is no reason why not this week; and you’ve done a long spell of work this time, old fellow.’  I thought that I did not want to go on Friday; but when the day came, I found that I should prefer going to staying away, so I availed myself of Mr Holdsworth’s permission, and went over to Hope Farm some time in the afternoon, a little later than my last visit.  I found the ‘curate’ open to admit the soft September air, so tempered by the warmth of the sun, that it was warmer out of doors than in, although the wooden log lay smouldering in front of a heap of hot ashes on the hearth.  The vine-leaves over the window had a tinge more yellow, their edges were here and there scorched and browned; there was no ironing about, and cousin Holman sate just outside the house, mending a shirt.  Phillis was at her knitting indoors:  it seemed as if she had been at it all the week.  The manyspeckled fowls were pecking about in the farmyard beyond, and the milk-cans glittered with brightness, hung out to sweeten.  The court was so full of flowers that they crept out upon the low-covered wall and horse-mount, and were even to be found self-sown upon the turf that bordered the path to the back of the house.  I fancied that my Sunday coat was scented for days afterwards by the bushes of sweetbriar and the fraxinella that perfumed the air.  From time to time cousin Holman put her hand into a covered basket at her feet, and threw handsful of corn down for the pigeons that cooed and fluttered in the air around, in expectation of this treat.

I had a thorough welcome as soon as she saw me.  ’Now this is kind—­this is right down friendly,’ shaking my hand warmly.  ‘Phillis, your cousin Manning is come!’

‘Call me Paul, will you?’ said I; ’they call me so at home, and Manning in the office.’

’Well, Paul, then.  Your room is all ready for you, Paul, for, as I said to the minister, “I’ll have it ready whether he comes on Friday or not.”  And the minister said he must go up to the Ashfield whether you were to come or not; but he would come home betimes to see if you were here.  I’ll show you to your room, and you can wash the dust off a bit.’