little practice there is in that handful of a village. He knew very well
he'd get Welbury, and Springton, and all the county."

"But, Hetty," persisted Sally. "He wasn't to blame, if people in these
towns sent for him, hearing how good he was. Indeed, indeed, Hetty, he
don't care for the money. He wouldn't take a cent from Jim, and he never
does from poor people. I've heard him say a dozen times, that he should
have come home to live on the old farm, even if they hadn't needed a
doctor there: he loves the country so, he can't be happy in the city;
and he loves every stick and stone of the old farm."

"Humph!" said Hetty. "He looks like a country fellow, doesn't he, with
his fine clothes, and his gauntlet gloves! Don't tell me! I say he is
a popinjay, with all his learning. Now don't talk any more about it,
little woman, for your cheeks are getting too red," and Hetty took up
the baby, and began to toss him and talk to him.

Hetty knew in her heart that she was unjust. More than she would have
owned to herself, and still more than she would have acknowledged
to Sally, she had admired Eben Williams's honest, straightforward,
warm-hearted face. But she preferred to dislike Eben Williams: her
father had disliked him, and had said he should never set foot in the
house; and Hetty felt a certain sort of filial obligation to keep up the
animosity.

But Nature had other plans for Hetty. In fact if one were disposed to be
superstitious, one might well have said that fate itself had determined
to thwart Hetty's resolution of hostility.