‘Be it far from me to presume to set forth the ways of Providence!’ returned her guest.  ’I meddle not, like some that should be wiser, with the calling of the prophet.  It is enough for me to know that ever and again the pride of man will gather to “a mighty and a fearful head,” and, like a swollen mill-pond overfed of rains, burst the banks that confine it, whether they be the laws of the land or the ordinances of the church, usurping on the fruitful meadows, the hope of life for man and beast.  Alas!’ he went on, with a new suggestion from the image he had been using, ’if the beginning of strife be as the letting out of water, what shall be the end of that strife whose beginning is the letting out of blood?’

’Think you then, good sir, that thus it has always been? that such times of fierce ungodly tempest must ever follow upon seasons of peace and comfort?—­even as your cousin of holy memory, in his verses concerning the church militant, writes: 

“Thus also sin and darkness follow still The church and sun, with all their power and skill."’

’Truly it seems so.  But I thank God the days of my pilgrimage are nearly numbered.  To judge by the tokens the wise man gives us, the mourners are already going about my streets.  The almond-tree flourisheth at least.’

He smiled as he spoke, laying his hand on his grey head.

’But think of those whom we must leave behind us, master Herbert.  How will it fare with them?’ said the lady in troubled tone, and glancing in the direction of the window.

In the window sat a girl, gazing from it with the look of a child who had uttered all her incantations, and could imagine no abatement in the steady rain-pour.

‘We shall leave behind us strong hearts and sound heads too,’ said Mr. Herbert.  ’And I bethink me there will be none stronger or sounder than those of your young cousins, my late pupils, of whom I hear brave things from Oxford, and in whose affection my spirit constantly rejoices.’

’You will be glad to hear such good news of your relatives, Dorothy,’ said the lady, addressing her daughter.

Even as she said the words, the setting sun broke through the mass of grey cloud, and poured over the earth a level flood of radiance, in which the red wheat glowed, and the drops that hung on every ear flashed like diamonds.  The girl’s hair caught it as she turned her face to answer her mother, and an aureole of brown-tinted gold gleamed for a moment about her head.

’I am glad that you are pleased, madam, but you know I have never seen them—­or heard of them, except from master Herbert, who has, indeed, often spoke rare things of them.’