Mr. Aubrey stayed behind, desirous of taking another little ramble with Dr. Tatham through the village, for the day was indeed bright and beautiful, and the occasion inspiriting. There was not a villager within four or five miles of the Hall who did not sit down that day to a comfortable little relishing dinner, at least one-third of them being indebted for it directly to the bounty of the Aubreys. As soon as Dr. Tatham had taken off his gown, he accompanied Mr. Aubrey in cheerful mood, in the briskest spirits. 'T was delightful to see the smoke come curling out of every chimney, while few folk were visible out of doors; whence you reasonably concluded that they were all housed, and preparing for, or partaking of, their roast-beef and plum-pudding! Now and then the bustling wife would show her heated red face at the door, and hastily courtesy as they passed, then returning to dish up her little dinner. "Ah, ha; Mr. Aubrey!--isn't such a day as this worth a whole year in town?" exclaimed Dr. Tatham. "Both have their peculiar advantages, Doctor; the pleasure of the contrast would be lost if"---- "Contrast! Believe me, in the language of the poet Virgil"---- "Ah! how goes on old blind Bess, Doctor?" interrupted Aubrey, as they approached the smallest cottage in the village--in fact the very last. "She's just the same as she has been these last twenty years. Shall we look in on the old creature?" "With all my heart. I hope, poor soul! that _she_ has not been overlooked on this festive occasion." "Trust Mrs. Aubrey for that! I'll answer for it, we shall find old Bess as happy, in her way, as she can be." This was a stone blind old woman, who had been bedridden for the last twenty years. She had certainly passed her hundredth year--some said two or three years before--and had lived in her present little cottage for nearly half a century, having grown out of the recollection of almost all the inhabitants of the village. She had long been a pensioner of Mrs. Aubrey's, by whom alone, indeed, she was supported. Her great age, her singular appearance, and a certain rambling way of talking that she had, had long earned her the reputation, in the village, of being able to say strange things; and one or two of the old gossips knew of things coming to pass according to what--poor old soul--she had predicted!