“Better—if it’s better, I’m ready to hear reason.” The butcher had choice, tender lamb, he said, fit to eat the next day; and as Mr. Case was impatient to make his offering to Sir Arthur, he accepted the butcher’s proposal, though with such seeming reluctance, that he actually squeezed out of him, before he would complete the bargain, a bribe of a fine sweetbread. In the meantime Susan’s brothers ran home to tell her that her lamb was put into the paddock for the night; this was all they knew, and even this was some comfort to her. Rose, her good friend, was with her, and she had before her the pleasure of telling her father of his week’s reprieve. Her mother was better, and even said she was determined to sit up to supper in her wicker armchair. Susan was getting this ready for supper, when little William, who was standing at the house door, watching in the dusk for his father’s return, suddenly exclaimed, “Susan! if here is not our old man!” “Yes,” said the old harper, “I have found my way to you. The neighbours were kind enough to show me whereabouts you lived; for, though I didn’t know your name, they guessed who I meant by what I said of you all.” Susan came to the door, and the old man was delighted to hear her speak again. “If it would not be too bold,” said he, “I’m a stranger in this part of the country, and come from afar off. My boy has got a bed for himself here in the village; but I have no place. Could you be so charitable as to give an old blind man a night’s lodging?” Susan said she would step in and ask her mother; and she soon returned with an answer, that he was heartily welcome, if he could sleep upon the children’s bed, which was but small. The old man thankfully entered the hospitable cottage. He struck his head against the low roof, as he stepped over the doorsill. “Many roofs that are twice as high are not half so good,” said he. Of this he had just had experience at the house of the Attorney Case, while he had asked, but had been roughly refused all assistance by Miss Barbara, who was, according to her usual custom, standing staring at the hall door.