A door was opened instantly into a large kitchen or keeping room, bright with a fire and small lamp.  A girl of nine or ten sprang forward, but hung back at the sight of strangers; a boy of twelve rose awkwardly from conning his lessons by the low, unglazed lamp; an old woman showed herself from some kind of pantry.

“Here,” said the clergyman, “is my most esteemed friend Captain Talbot of Bridgefield and his daughter, who will do us the honour of abiding with us this night.  Do thou, Goody Madge, and thou, Oil-of-Gladness, make the young lady welcome, and dry her garments, while we go and see to the beasts.  Thou, Dust-and-Ashes, mayest come with us and lead the gentleman’s horse.”

The lad, saddled with this dismal name, and arrayed in garments which matched it in colour though not in uncleanliness, sprang up with alacrity, infinitely preferring fog, rain, and darkness to his accidence, and never guessing that he owed this relaxation to his father’s recollection of Mrs. Talbot’s ways, and perception that the young lady would be better attended to without his presence.

Oil-of-Gladness was a nice little rosy girl in the tightest and primmest of caps and collars, and with the little housewifely hospitality that young mistresses of houses early attain to.  There was no notion of equal terms between the Curate’s daughter and the Squire’s:  the child brought a chair, and stood respectfully to receive the hood, cloak, and riding skirt, seeming delighted at the smile and thanks with which Cicely requited her attentions.  The old woman felt the inner skirts, to make sure that they were not damp, and then the little girl brought warm water, and held the bowl while her guest washed face and hands, and smoothed her hair with the ivory comb which ladies always carried on a journey.  The sweet power of setting people at ease was one Cis had inherited and cultivated by imitation, and Oil-of-Gladness was soon chattering away over her toilette.  Would the lady really sleep with her in her little bed?  She would promise not to kick if she could help it.  Then she exclaimed, “Oh! what fair thing was that at the lady’s throat?  Was it a jewel of gold?  She had never seen one; for father said it was not for Christian women to adorn themselves.  Oh no; she did not mean—­” and, confused, she ran off to help Goody to lay the spotless tablecloth, Cis following to set the child at peace with herself, and unloose the tongue again into hopes that the lady liked conger pie; for father had bought a mighty conger for twopence, and Goody had made a goodly pie of him.

By the time the homely meal was ready Mr. Talbot had returned from disposing of his horses and servants at a hostel, for whose comparative respectability Mr. Heatherthwayte had answered.  The clergyman himself alone sat down to supper with his guests.  He would not hear of letting either of his children do so; but while Dust-and-Ashes retired to study his tasks for the Grammar School by firelight, Oil-of-Gladness assisted Goody in waiting, in a deft and ready manner pleasant to behold.