70 66 CHAPTER IV. THE CASEMENT WARILY OPENS. Sing on, ye little blithesome bird, nor heed the wintry day; She OLIVE GRESLEY was by no means inclined to take an equal interest in all her cousin's employments, especially as regarded Hazelmere and its parishioners; but she made occasional efforts to be useful, according to the whim of the moment. would sit patiently in the village school, with Primer in hand, teaching an idle and vexatious child its two-syllable lesson, because its golden curls and blue eyes pleased her fancy; while she declined to notice the plain little eager face and earnest mind that almost asked to be taught, as Linda led it forward from another class and whispered that it "deserved encouragement." She would listen with untiring attention to old Godfrey Norman's stories of the old sea-life-for his native politeness had won lasting favour; and even Martha Lloyd, who worried every one, had contrived to establish an interest in herself and nothing would her cough; but nothing, no, induce her to endure Rina instant. Cliffe for an "I can read every line in that ill-favoured face," she would say; "and I am convinced that not even the sunshine of your presence, fair cousin Linda, could brighten anything so dark and forbidding. No, indeed, I shall keep at a safe distance from Rina Cliffe, and advise you to do the same." These discouraging remarks did not add to Linda's comfort. Nevertheless she persevered in her appointed visits to the Edge, patiently enduring Rina's uncertain moods, meeting a sullen temper with cheerfulness, and ever doing her utmost to turn aside the frequent torrent of angry words into a smoother and more hopeful channel. Difficult indeed was the effort, and small the success which seemed to attend it; yet this much at least was accomplished-Rina had confessed that it was "mighty pleasant" to hear her read. More than once Linda had been welcomed with a grim smile; the oak settle had been pushed aside to make room for a low rush-seated chair, and even Black Milly's three-legged stool had been placed for her visitor's feet. If, however, Rina's politeness showed itself for a moment, it was as quickly disguised by word or action. She would make up her fire, but the sticks were broken up snappishly, and even the kettle had a rough bit of handling before it could settle itself to sing in comfort in the bright cheery blaze. Even the kettle! Yes, in truth; for, if Rina had a friend in the world to soothe her mind and quiet her temper, that friend was the kettle, -at least so Linda thought, and experience had suggested the idea; for no sooner did its soft sing-song sound commence, than Rina's pattens were left in the inner doorway, noisy Jacket was sent flying through the porch, a clean hurden apron tied carefully on, and she herself sat down quietly to listen. But wait a moment. It was one of Rina's oddities that she never could or would attempt to pay the least attention to the reader unless she had found and carefully affixed a pair of venerable-looking spectacles into her wide cap border. With their aid, in days long gone by, Rina's mother had been wont to read her Sunday chapter in the old Bible, and without them now it would have been useless for the kettle to sing ever so invitingly "Sit down, rest still; rest still, Rina Cliffe." Their use to her as a listener might be considered doubtful, yet she never failed to require them; they might be taken off at intervals to be polished by her rough apron or handkerchief, but on no occasion were they ever laid aside. Perhaps some of the truthful words in "the Book" touched her heart in its hidden depths and dimmed her eyes it was difficult to guess, for as Linda read the chapter no words were spoken between them, and afterwards Rina hardly varied her comment: "Ah, well, God bless us all! Good reading that, and no doubt we ought so to do." If the subject could be turned to the account of her neighbours, Rina Cliffe had more to say about it. She would shake her head significantly, and fit the counsel or warning readily enough to suit each case. So might one portion of a goodly corn-field look upon its waving fellows and say, "See, the gay, flaunting poppies are growing thickly among you, and the ill-scented charlock is destroying your sweetness. Here, at this end of our field, we are free from such mischievous acquaintance. Lift up your heads, my brothers, and rejoice; no such evil seed has been encouraged near us." But alas for them! the tender shoots of the clinging bindweed is winding itself round every stem, and they feel it not. Wait a while, it will grow strong and bear them down with its weight. There is no room for boasting; the wheat and the destroying bindweed must fall together. 66 'Rina," said Linda Conway, as a promising smile greeted her entrance, "I have been thinking that the long lonely hours you complain of so much might be made less lonely if you could but learn to read yourself; and I feel sure that, with my help and daily practice, you would quickly regain the knowledge of reading you once had in old Mrs. Oakley's school. Your memory is no ordinary one, and that would lessen your trouble." "Well,” replied Rina, “perhaps I might manage to spell out a word or two. You see when my Geoffrey was alive I had no need for it: he was a good scholar, but I never liked my book." Linda had not forgotten to bring one of Simpson's Primers, and she at once opened it at page No. 1-The Alphabet. "I'm not going to learn out of that, so don't |