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Updated: June 19, 2025
The clock ticked to and fro, and the tabby cat purred softly as she sat before the fire, and the wood now and then gave a little crackle as it burned gently away, and those were all the signs of life to be seen on the premises. Getting tired at last, Mr Ewring went out into the courtyard, and called in his loudest tones "Do-ro-thy!"
Beware that all thy good things come not to thee in this life which can only be if they be things that pertain to this life alone." "This life's enough for me, Master: it's all I've got." "Truth, friend. Therefore cast it not away in folly." "In a good sooth, Master Ewring, I love your angelets better than your preachment, and you paid me not to listen to a sermon, but to carry a message.
"I would have taken the lad, if it might have been compassed, when he was a bit older, and have bred him up to my own trade. The maids should have done better with good Mistress Wade." "Eh, Master, little Cicely's like to dwell in other keeping than either, and that's with her good father and mother above." "The Lord's will be done!" responded Mr Ewring.
Mr Ewring did not stay to talk with Bartle; he bade him good-bye, and walked up Tenant's Lane on his way home. But before he had gone many yards, an idea struck him, and he turned round and went back to the Castle. Bartle was still in the court, and he peeped through the wicket to see who was there. "Good lack! you're come again!" "I'm come again," said Mr Ewring, smiling.
Helen Ewring, the miller's wife, followed: and both were condemned. Then the last of the Moot Hall prisoners, Elizabeth Foulkes, was placed at the bar. "Dost thou believe," inquired Dr Chedsey, "that in the most holy Sacrament of the altar, the body and blood of Christ is really and substantially present?" Elizabeth's reply, in her quiet, clear voice, was audible in every part of the hall.
"Ay, right fair," replied Amy in that manner which shows that the speaker's thoughts are away elsewhere. But she did not offer to go; she lingered about the mill-door, in the style of one who has something to say which she is puzzled or unwilling to bring out. "You seem weary," said Mr Ewring, kindly; "pray you, sit and rest you a space in the porch." Amy took the seat suggested at once.
At length the visitor was informed that permission was granted, on condition that he would not mention the subject of religion. The condition was rejected at once. Mr Ewring had come to talk about that and nothing else. "Then you'd best go home," said Bartle. "Can't do to have matters set a-crooked again when they are but now coming straight.
So they'll break her, and then there'll be no more they can do. That's about where it is, Master Ewring." "Why, Dorothy, I never saw you thus stirred aforetime." "Maybe not. It takes a bit to stir me, but I've got it this even, I can tell you." "I could well-nigh mistake you for Mistress Wade," said Mr Ewring with a smile.
Here be an half-dozen in the town arrest of heresy and some without, too." "Mercy on us! Who?" demanded Mrs Clere. "Why, Master Benold, chandler, and Master Bongeor, glazier, and old Mistress Silverside, and Mistress Ewring at the mill these did I hear. I know not who else." And suddenly turning to Elizabeth, he said, "Hussy, was this thine errand, or had it ought to do therewith?"
"Master Ewring, I've given you a deal of trouble," said Amy, rising suddenly, "and taken ever so much time. But I'm not unthankful, trust me." "My dear maid, how can Christian men spend time better than in helping a fellow soul on his way towards Heaven? It's not time wasted, be sure." "No, it's not time wasted!" said Amy, with more feeling than Mr Ewring had ever seen her show before.
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