He repeated his rhyme, with some relief, hoping to change the subject. I caught him by both hands, and burst into tears. "Don’t ye now," he said, with a thickness in his voice, "don’t ye now, my dearie, leastways unless it does you good." "It does me good, indeed," I sobbed, "to find still in the world so kind a heart as yours." Though I longed to look him in the face, I knew that I must not do so. Oh why are men so ashamed of manly tears? Perceiving that I could not speak, he began to talk for both of us, making a hundred blundering apologies, trying to hide his knowledge of my poverty, and to prove that he was only paying a debt which extended over many years of tenancy. He was not at all an imaginative man, but delicacy supplied him with invention. So deep a sense pervades all classes in this English country, that want of money is an indictment, which none but the culprit may sign. Poor or rich, I should not be worth despising, if I had shown the paltry pride of declining such a loan. The tears came anew to my eyes when I found that what had been brought so freely was the savings of years of honest toil, a truth which the owners had tried to conceal by polishing the old coin. But not being skilled, dear souls, in plate-cleaning, they had left some rotten-stone adhering to the George and Dragons. CHAPTER II. Although I find a sad pleasure in lingering over these times, with such a history still impending, I cannot afford the indulgence. Dear mother’s simple funeral took me once more to my native place. Even without Mr. Huxtable’s generous and noble assistance, I should have laid her to rest by the side of the husband she loved so well. But difficulties, sore to encounter at such a time, would have met me on every side. Moreover the kind act cheered and led me through despondency, like the hand and face of God. Caring little what people might say or think, I could not stay at a distance. Nature told me that it was my duty to go, and duty or not, I could not stay away.