morning--before cocklight it was--your great-grandfather came downstairs
to see that Wesley had a cup of tea before his early start onward. And
he found the good man had already lit a fire and infused the tea, and
then and there it was made the law of Hatton household that the fire
John Wesley kindled there must never go out, but be a sign and covenant
of good to the House of Hatton as long as there was a man in Hatton to
carry it on." As she was talking Mrs. Hatton had put her basket of herbs
on a little table, and with glowing cheeks she now bent her head and
inhaled their refreshing odors. John was silent for a few moments, and
profoundly touched by the old homely story; then he said,

"My dear mother, it may be a son of Harry's that will be so favored. Had
we not better accept his marriage as pleasantly as we can? Lucy Lugur is
a beautiful girl, and that big fervent Welshman who is her father has
doubtless made her the image of all that God and man love in a woman."

"Maybe Lugur has done his best with her, but women see a long sight
further into women than men do. I'll hev to seek and to find good
reasons for Harry marrying so far below himself before I'll hev this or
that to say or do with such an ill-sorted marriage. Now, John, get ready
for thy dinner; none of us are going to do any waiting for a lad that
thinks he can live on love."

John rose, smiling, and as he did so said, "Was that the way Methodism
began, mother?"

"To be sure, it was. It began in the lanes and streets and in the barns
and kitchens of old manor houses like Hatton Hall. Your
great-grandfather used to say it was like a loud cry at midnight
startling the sleepy world."