"Star Mary--_stella maris_, if only you will shine steadily and guide
me! Kiss me now, and hear that I am sorry."

But it was Molly who, later that night, put out both arms in the bed
where they slept together: and with a wail which lasted until Hetty
enfolded her and held her close.

"I was dreaming," she muttered. "I dreamt--of that man."



CHAPTER VI.


For six months of the year, sometimes for longer, the thatched
parsonage at Wroote rose out of a world of waters, forlorn as a
cornstack in a flood, and the Rector of Epworth journeyed between his
two parishes by boat, often in soaked breeches, and sometimes with a
napkin tied over his hat and wig. But in this harvest weather, while
the sun shone and the meadow-breezes overcame the odours of damp
walls and woodwork, of the pig-sty at the back and of rotting weed
beyond, the Wesley household lived cheerfully enough, albeit pinched
for room; more cheerfully than at Epworth, where the more spacious
rectory, rebuilt by Mr. Wesley at a cost of 400 pounds, remained
half-furnished after fourteen years--a perpetual reminder of debt.

Here at any rate, although Wroote tithe brought in a bare 50 pounds a
year, they could manage to live and pay their way, and feel meanwhile
that they were lessening the burden. For Dick Ellison, Sukey's