"
"God love thee, Phyllis! Thou'lt be makkin' a Methodist o' me, whether
I will or no. I hed no idea afore there was a' that in t' picture.
I wont stay here any longer. Thanks be! It's sleeping-time, missee."
"I should like to sleep in this room, squire."
"Why, then, rector, thou shall. A bit o' fire and some aired bed-clothes
is a' it wants. Thou's sure to sleep well in it, and thou'lt hev t' sunrise
to wake thee up."
And Phyllis thought, when she saw him in the morning, that he had kept
some of the sunshine in his face. He was walking up and down the
terrace softly humming a tune to himself, and watching the pigeons
promenade with little, timid, rapid steps, making their necks change
like opals with every movement. The roofs and lintels and the soft
earth was still wet, but the sun shone gloriously, and the clear air
was full of a thousand scents.
"How beautiful all is, and how happy you look," and Phyllis put her
hand in the rector's, and let him lead her to the end of the terrace,
where she could see the green country flooded with sunshine.
"Did you sleep well in Wesley's chamber?"
"I slept very well; and this morning the pleasantest thing happened.
Upon a little table I saw a Bible lying, and I read the morning lesson,
which was a very happy one; then I lifted another book upon the stand.
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