It was rather more than two years from Alice Mowbray's wedding-day, when George Wells lifted the latch of Master Foster's door, and, closing it after him, walked into the house, seated himself on the polished wooden chair opposite old Sarah's, and said in a hurried voice, "I am come, neighbours,--I am come to tell you a piece of news which I should be loth you should hear from anybody but myself." Susan's heart died away within her--her head drooped more than ever over her knitting; Dame Foster took off her spectacles, and, wiping them, laid them within the sacred book from which she had been reading some texts to her husband and her child; old Nicholas half turned himself upon his settle: but none spoke. Susan felt that the silence must be distressing to George; and exerting herself the first, she replied, "If it is any news, George, that concerns yourself, you may be sure there are no friends who will be more rejoiced to hear of any good likely to befall you, or more grieved to hear of any misfortune. You have scarce any older friends than father, and mother, and myself; so you need not be afraid to speak." "Thank you, Susan, thank you; that's just like you. I was sure you would take it so. And yet, after all that has passed between us, I felt--I don't know how I felt. But it seems strange I should marry anybody else." "I gave you back your word, George, and this is what I have long expected; and long tried to make up my mind to," she added, with some effort. "I could not expect you to go on always tending upon a poor blind girl like me. 'Tis better, much better, than getting any ways unsteady. God knows, I have not a word to say against your marrying Jane Dixon." "Thank you, Susan, thank you," he repeated; "I feel easier now! Susan, this has been a great trouble to me; for I could not bear deceiving you like, and yet I did not know how to tell you there was any courting going on between me and Jane." "You know, George, I gave you back your word from the first." "Yes, yes, so you did; but for a long time I did not believe I should ever think of any girl but you: but I do not know how it is, a man wants a home--does he not, Master Foster?--and he wants a wife to see to him. And then, Jane Dixon, she's a tight lass; and I don't know how it was, I never came home from work without meeting her going of an errand somewhere; and then she is a bustling girl, and one who will keep things nice and tidy in a poor man's house." "Her mother was a thrifty, bustling body, and I hope she will make you a good wife, George," said Dame Foster, in a tone which she meant should be very kind; but her thoughts were so much occupied with Susan, that she had no feeling to spare for any one else. "I wish you happiness, George," said Nicholas; "you have behaved very well by my poor girl; and, if it had not been for her affliction, you would have married her, and made her a good husband, I warrant. It is the will of God it should all be as it is."