"Ay, Faith Claridge, as I said," he answered, with apparent understanding, his stark mood passing.

"No, thee said Mercy Claridge, Soolsby," said I, "and she has been asleep these many years." "Ay, she has slept soundly, thanks be to God!" he replied, and crossed himself.

"Why should thee call me by her name ?" I inquired.

"Ay, is not her tomb in the churchyard ?" he answered, and added quickly, "Luke Claridge and I are of an age to a day--which, think you, will go first ?" He stopped weaving, and peered over at me with his staring blue eyes, and I felt a sudden quickening of the heart.

For, at the question, curtains seemed to drop from all around me, and leave me in the midst of pains and miseries, in a chill air that froze me to the marrow.