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Raymond, the only badge of his calling was his round clerical hat; and as all the miners in the neighbourhood wore hats of the same soft felt and only a trifle higher in the crown, this hardly amounted to a distinction. Humility's eyes were full of tears as she watched them from the door that morning. But Taffy felt as proud as Punch.
It was enough, in the time left to her, to accept what happened and leave the responsibility to Providence. Honoria, replying but scarcely listening to her talk, heard a footfall at the outer door Taffy's footfall; then the click of a latch and Humility's voice saying, "There's a visitor inside; come to take tea with you." "A visitor?" He was standing in the doorway. "You?"
He did a dozen things wrongly, but he neither fumbled, nor hammered his fingers, nor wounded them with the chisel which was Humility's husband's way. At the end of four days of strenuous effort, they had their first pew built. The triumph was, the seat could be sat upon without risk. Mr.
They found a saddler's and chose the dog-collar which came to four shillings; and for eighteenpence the shopman agreed to have "Honoria from Taffy," engraved on it within an hour. Humility's present was chosen with surprising ease a large, framed photograph of the Bishop of Exeter; price, six shillings. "I don't suppose," objected George, "your mother cares much for the Bishop of Exeter."
And, in short, Taffy was to pack his box and go. "But the subjects?" "You have been reading them and the prescribed books for four months past. And I have had sets of the old papers by me for a guide. Your mathematics are shaky but I think you should do well enough." It was now Humility's turn, and the discussion plunged among shirts and collars.
Honoria followed, wondering as of old at the beautiful manners which dignified Humility's simplest words. "I heard that you were to go." "Yes; we have been packing for a week past. To North Wales it is a forsaken spot, no better than this. But I suppose that's the sort of spot where light-houses are useful."
Venning's health, and left, turning at the door and giving Humility a cheerful little nod. "Taffy, you ought not to have spoken so." Humility's eyes were tearful. Taffy's conscience was already accusing him. He snatched up his cap and ran out. "Miss Honoria!" She did not turn. "Miss Honoria I am sorry!" He overtook her, but she turned her face away. "Forgive me!"
He spent much of his time in the church, watching the carpenter at work upon the new seats; his mind ran on the story of Samuel, and he wished his mother had followed Hannah's example and dedicated him to God; he had a suspicion that God would be angry with her for not doing so. He did not observe that, as the autumn crept on, a shadow gathered on Humility's face.
They both laughed and fell to work again, the boy explained his notions of the difficult art of mortising. They were rudimentary, but sound as far as they went, and his father recognised this. Moreover, when the boy had a tool to handle he did it with a natural deftness, in spite of his ignorance. He was Humility's child, born with the skill-of-hand of generations of lace-workers.
In the small kitchen, on the walls of which, and even on the dresser, Taffy's books fought for room with Humility's plates and tin-ware, the Chief Engineer proved to be a most courteous old gentleman. Towards Humility he bore himself with an antique politeness which flattered her considerably. And when he praised her tea she almost forgave him for his detestable habit of snuff-taking.
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