Alls Well | Page 4

to Staplehurst.
As she turned the corner of the last house in Cranbrook, she was
brought to a stand-still by a voice behind her.
"Alice!"
A light sprang to Alice's eyes as she turned quickly round to greet a
man a few years older than herself--a man with grave dark eyes and a
brown beard. Passing all her parcels into the left hand, she gave him the
right--an action which at that time was an indication of intimate
friendship. The kiss and the hand-clasp have changed places since then.
"Why, Roger! I look not to see thee now. How goes it this morrow with
Christie?"
"As the Lord will, good sister."
"And that, mefeareth, is but evil?"
"Nay, I will not lay that name on aught the Lord doth. But she suffers
sorely, poor darling! Wilt come round our way and look in on her,
Alice?"

"I would I might, Roger!" said Alice, with a rather distressed look. "But
this morrow--"
"Thou hast not good conveniency thereto." Roger finished the sentence
for her. "Then let be till thine occasion serveth. Only, when it so doth,
bethink thee that a look on Aunt Alice is a rare comfort to the little
maid."
"Be thou sure I shall not forget it. Tom came in last night, Roger. He
and Tabitha and the childre, said he, fare well."
"That's a good hearing. And Edward hath his health?"
"Oh ay, Edward doth rarely well."
Mr Benden was not apt to lose his health, which partly accounted for
the very slight sympathy he was wont to show with those who were. It
was noticeable that while other people were spoken of by affectionate
diminutives both from Alice and her brother, Edward and Tabitha
received their names in full.
"Well, then, Alice, I shall look for thee--when thou shalt be able to
come. The Lord have thee in His keeping!"
"The Lord be with thee, dear Roger!"
And Roger Hall turned down a side street, while Alice went on toward
Staplehurst. They were deeply attached to each other, this brother and
sister, and all the more as they found little sympathy outside their
mutual affection. Roger was quite aware of Alice's home troubles, and
she of his. They could see but little of each other, for while Mr Benden
had not absolutely forbidden his brother-in-law to enter his house, it
was a familiar fact to all parties that his sufficiently sharp temper was
not softened by a visit from Roger Hall, and Alice's sufferings from the
temper in question were generally enough to prevent her from trying it
further. It was not only sharp, but also uncertain. What pleased him
to-day--and few things did please him--was by no means sure to please
him to-morrow. Alice trod on a perpetual volcano, which was given to

opening and engulfing her just at the moment when she least expected
it.
Roger's home troubles were of another sort. His wife was dead, and his
one darling was his little Christabel, whose few years had hitherto been
passed in pain and suffering. The apothecary was not able to find out
what hidden disorder sapped the spring of little Christie's health, and
made her from her very babyhood a frail, weak, pallid invalid, scarcely
fit to do anything except lie on a sofa, learn a few little lessons from her
father, and amuse herself with fancy work. A playfellow she could
seldom bear. Her cousins, the three daughters of her Uncle Thomas,
who lived about a mile away, were too rough and noisy for the frail
child, with one exception--Justine, who was lame, and could not keep
up with the rest. But Justine was not a comfortable companion, for she
possessed a grumbling temper, or it would perhaps be more correct to
say she was possessed by it. She suffered far less than Christie, yet
Christie was always bright and sunny, while Justine was dark and
cloudy. Yet not even Justine tried Christie as did her Aunt Tabitha.
Aunt Tabitha was one of those women who wish and mean to do a
great deal of good, and cannot tell how to do it. Not that she realised
that inability by any means. She was absolutely convinced that nearly
all the good done in the Weald of Kent was done by Tabitha Hall,
while the real truth was that if Tabitha Hall had been suddenly
transported to Botany Bay, or any other distant region, the Weald of
Kent would have got along quite as well without her. According to
Aunt Tabitha, the one grand duty of every human creature was to rouse
himself and other people: and, measured by this rule, Aunt Tabitha
certainly did her duty. She earnestly impressed on Alice that Mr
Benden would develop into a perfect angel if only she stood