'What does it matter?' returned Audrey, with superb disdain. '"The rains of Marly do not wet!"--do you recollect that exquisite courtier-like speech?--so, no doubt, Woodcote dews are quite wholesome. Is it not delicious to be home again? And there is no more "Will you come ben?" from honest Jean, and "Will you have a sup of porridge, Miss Ross, or a few broth to keep out the cold?" "Home, home, there is no place like home!"' And then they heard her singing at the top of her fresh young voice, as she roamed through the empty rooms, some old ballad Michael had taught her: 'Oh, there's naebody hears Widow Miller complain, Oh, there's naebody hears Widow Miller complain; Though the heart of this world's as hard as a stane, Yet there's naebody hears Widow Miller complain.' 'Dear child!' observed her mother fondly. 'I do not think anyone ever was happier than our Audrey. She is like a sunbeam in the house, John;' and then they both paused to listen: 'Ye wealthy and wise in this fair world of ours, When your fields wave wi' gowd, your gardens wi' flowers, When ye bind up the sheaves, leave out a few grains To the heart-broken widow who never complains.' CHAPTER XX 'THE LITTLE RIFT' 'And sigh that one thing only has been lent To youth and age in common--discontent.' MATTHEW ARNOLD. Audrey was very busy the next morning unpacking and settling a hundred things with her mother and Mrs. Draper. She had fully expected that Mollie would have made her appearance at her usual time; but when the luncheon-hour arrived, and still no Mollie, she felt a little perplexed. Kester had entrusted her with numerous messages, and she had now no resource but to go herself to the Gray Cottage and deliver them. Audrey was never touchy, never stood on her dignity as most people do; but the thought did cross her that for once Mollie had been a little remiss. 'I would so much rather have seen her at Woodcote,' she said to herself, as she walked quickly down the High Street. Mrs. Ross was going up to Hillside to look after Geraldine, and Audrey had promised to join her there in an hour's time. 'I never can talk comfortably to Mollie at the Gray Cottage; Mrs. Blake always monopolises me so.' But Audrey carefully refrained from hinting, even to herself, the real reason for her reluctance. She had a curious dread of seeing Mr. Blake, an unaccountable wish to keep out of his way as much as possible; but not for worlds would she have acknowledged this. She opened the green gate, and Zack bounded out to meet her with his usual bark of welcome; but no Mollie followed him, only Biddy, looking more like a witch than ever, with a red silk handkerchief tied over her gray hair, hobbled across the passage.