The little parson, after hesitating and pondering in his helpless way, ended by agreeing with my mistress, and by coming back once more to the Hall with his fiddle under his arm.

This renewal of their old habits might have been imprudent enough, as tending to weaken my mistress's case in the eyes of the world, but, for all that, it was the most sensible course she could take for her own sake.

The harmless company of Mr.Meeke, and the relief of playing the old tunes again in the old way, saved her, I verily believe, from sinking altogether under the oppression of the shocking situation in which she was now placed.
So, with the assistance of Mr.Meeke and his fiddle, my mistress got though the weary time.

The winter passed, the spring came, and no fresh tidings reached us of Mr.James Smith.

It had been a long, hard winter that year, and the spring was backward and rainy.