fourteen miles an hour. Old Giles was seated outside his own door with
a pipe and a book. At the sound of horses' feet he looked up and
recognized his visitor, whom he had seen pass in the morning. He rose
up erect and saluted him, by bringing his thumb with a military wave
to his forehead. Mr. Eden saluted him in the same manner, but without
stopping. The old soldier sat down again and read and smoked. The pipe
ended--that solace was not of an immortal kind--but the book remained;
he read it calmly but earnestly in the warm air till day declined.



CHAPTER VII.

THE next Saturday Susan was busy preparing two rooms for Mr. Eden--a
homely but bright bedroom looking eastward, and a snug room where he
could be quiet downstairs. Snowy sheets and curtains and toilet-cover
showed the good housewife. The windows were open, and a beautiful
nosegay of Susan's flowers on the table. Mr. Eden's eye brightened at
the comfort and neatness and freshness of the whole thing; and Susan,
who watched him furtively, felt pleased to see him pleased.

On Sunday he preached in the parish church. The sermon was opposite to
what the good people here had been subject to; instead of the vague
and cold generalities of an English sermon, he drove home-truths home
in business-like English. He used a good many illustrations, and these
were drawn from matters with which this particular congregation were
conversant. He was as full of similes here as he was sparing of them
when he preached before the University of Oxford. Any one who had read
this sermon in a book of sermons would have divined what sort of
congregation it was preached to--a primrose of a sermon. Mr. Eden