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be aware of a friendly presence。
Slowly Lisbeth drew down her apron； and timidly she opened
her dim dark eyes。 She saw nothing at first but a face—a pure；
pale face； with loving grey eyes； and it was quite unknown to her。
Her wonder increased； perhaps it was an angel。 But in the same
instant Dinah had laid her hand on Lisbeth’s again； and the old
woman looked down at it。 It was a much smaller hand than her
own； but it was not white and delicate； for Dinah had never worn a
glove in her life； and her hand bore the traces of labour from her
childhood upwards。 Lisbeth looked earnestly at the hand for a
moment； and then； fixing her eyes again on Dinah’s face； said； with
something of restored courage； but in a tone of surprise； “Why；
ye’re a workin’ woman！”
“Yes； I am Dinah Morris； and I work in the cotton…mill when I
am at home。”
“Ah！” said Lisbeth slowly； still wondering； “ye comed in so
light； like the shadow on the wall； an’ spoke i’ my ear； as I thought
ye might be a sperrit。 Ye’ve got a’most the face o’ one as is a…sittin’
on the grave i’ Adam’s new Bible。”
“I come from the Hall Farm now。 You know Mrs。 Poyser—she’s
my aunt； and she has heard of your great affliction； and is very
sorry； and I’m come to see if I can be any help to you in your
trouble； for I know your sons Adam and Seth； and I know you
have no daughter； and when the clergyman told me how the hand
of God was heavy upon you； my heart went out towards you； and I
felt a command to come and be to you in the place of a daughter in
this grief； if you will let me。”
“Ah！ I know who y’ are now； y’ are a Methody； like Seth； he’s
tould me on you；” said Lisbeth fretfully； her overpowering sense of
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pain returning； now her wonder was gone。 “Ye’ll make it out as
trouble’s a good thing； like he allays does。 But where’s the use o’
talkin’ to me a…that’n？ Ye canna make the smart less wi’ talkin’。
Ye’ll ne’er make me believe as it’s better for me not to ha’ my old
man die in’s bed； if he must die； an’ ha’ the parson to pray by him；
an’ me to sit by him； an’ tell him ne’er to mind th’ ill words I’ve
gi’en him sometimes when I war angered； an’ to gi’ him a bit an’ a
sup； as long as a bit an’ a sup he’d swallow。 But eh！ To die i’ the
cold water； an’ us close to him； an’ ne’er to know； an’ me a…
sleepin’； as if I ne’er belonged to him no more nor if he’d been a
journeyman tramp from nobody knows where！”
Here Lisbeth began to cry and rock herself again； and Dinah
said； “Yes； dear friend； your affliction is great。 It would be
hardness of heart to say that your trouble was not heavy to bear。
God didn’t send me to you to make light of your sorrow； but to
mourn with you； if you will let me。 If you had a table spread for a
feast； and was making merry with your friends； you would think it
was kind to let me come and sit down and rejoice with you；
because you’d think I should like to share those good things； but I
should like better to share in your trouble and your labour； and it
would seem harder to me if you denied me that。 You won’t send
me away？ You’re not angry with me for coming？”
“Nay； nay； angered！ who said I war angered？ It war good on
you to come。 An’ Seth； why donna ye get her some tay？ Ye war in
a hurry to get some for me； as had no need； but ye donna think o’
gettin’ ’t for them as wants it。 Sit ye down； sit ye down。 I thank you
kindly for comin’； for it’s little wage ye get by walkin’ through the
wet fields to see an old woman like me 。 。 。 Nay； I’n got no daughter
o’ my own—ne’er had one—an’ I warna sorry； for they’re poor
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queechy things； gells is； I allays wanted to ha’ lads； as could fend
for theirsens。 An’ the lads ’ull be marryin’—I shall ha’ daughters
eno’； an’ too many。 But now； do ye make the tay as ye like it； for I’n
got no taste i’ my mouth this day—it’s all one what I swaller—it’s
all got the taste o’ sorrow wi’t。”
Dinah took care not to betray that she had had her tea； and
accepted Lisbeth’s invitation very readily； for the sake of
persuading the old woman herself to take the food and drink she
so much needed after a day of hard work and fasting。
Seth was so happy now Dinah was in the house that he could
not help thinking her presence was worth purchasing with a life in
which grief incessantly followed upon grief； but the next moment
he reproached himself—it was almost as if he were rejoicing in his
father’s sad death。 Nevertheless the joy of being with Dinah would
triumph—it was like the influence of climate； which no resistance
can overcome。 And the feeling even suffused itself over his face so
as to attract his mother’s notice； while she was drinking her tea。
“Thee may ’st well talk o’ trouble bein’ a good thing； Seth； for
thee thriv’st on ’t。 Thee look’st as if thee know’dst no more o’ care
an’ cumber nor when thee wast a babby a…lyin’ awake i’ th’ cradle。
For thee’dst allays lie still wi’ thy eyes open； an’ Adam ne’er ’ud lie
still a minute when he wakened。 Thee wast allays like a bag o’
meal as can ne’er be bruised—though； for the matter o’ that； thy
poor feyther war just such another。 But ye’ve got the same look
too” （here Lisbeth turned to Dinah）。 “I reckon it’s wi’ bein’ a
Methody。 Not as I’m a…findin’ faut wi’ ye for ’t； for ye’ve no call to
be frettin’； an’ somehow ye looken sorry too。 Eh！ Well； if the
Methodies are fond o’ trouble； they’re like to thrive： it’s a pity they
canna ha’t all； an’ take it away from them as donna like it。 I could
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ha’ gi’en ’em plenty； for when