I listened to the conversation with great interest, for—whether it be a fault of mine or not, I don't know—I do dearly love personal histories of all sorts. I discovered that Mrs. Deborah took a great interest in the villagers and their affairs, in which, as I surmised, she might sometimes interfere rather despotically. "And what about the church?" asked Mrs. Deborah. "Has it been opened?" "Oh yes, three or four times. The doctor had read service, and Mr. Longstreet had preached once. But Mr. Longstreet was going away, having been presented to a living not far from Allendale in the hills." "From Allendale!" said Mrs. Deborah. "Why, what will he do there among the miners? And what will Doctor Brown do for a curate?" "The living is a good one, as I am told, having a good income and very light duty," returned Roberts. "As to the miners, they will not trouble the church very much, and Dr. Brown has hired a new curate from Berwick way—quite a young man—but comes well recommended, and has a fine horse, but some complain that they don't understand him well." "Why, does he not speak English?" asked Mrs. Chloe. "Oh yes, madam, after a sort, but you know Berwick is near the border, and the people do have a kind of twang of Scotland, as it were." I could not help wondering if the Scotch twang were worse than the Northumbrian burr. We had become used to this odd dialect in Newcastle, but the Newcastle folk speak classical English compared to those about Highbeck Hall and in the lead-mining districts. The conversation was now cut short by the ladies rising from table, and Mrs. Deborah, supposing we must be very weary, sent us to bed, promising to have us called betimes in the morning. She also told us that her own room was very near ours, and added, somewhat abruptly: "I have had a cot-bed carried into your room, so you can have your maid sleep near you, if you like. Not, of course, that there is any thing to be afraid of, but young folks are sometimes timid, and the wind makes doleful noises at night among the old turrets and gables." We thanked Mrs. Deborah for her consideration, which, I fancy, was meant as much for Mary Lee as for us, and betook ourselves to our room. We had decided that we would have Mary read a chapter to us every night, that she might improve in her reading. We had bought Mr. Wesley's notes on the New Testament, and we proposed to go through the book with our little maid in regular course. When our lesson was finished, we asked Mary whether she would sleep in our room or hers. "I think in mine, if it is all the same to you, ladies," answered Mary, with a little quiver in her voice, but quite decidedly. "I have been thinking on what Miss Leighton said about trust, and I don't think it becomes a Christian to give way to fear." "Why, that is a brave girl!" said I, well-pleased, "You may leave the doors open between, if you like!" Amabel added. But I observed after all, that she shut them.