But he was in no sense a flatterer; none that saw him often were
long in ignorance of that. His rebuke was even quicker than his
compliment, as many had reason to know. And there was another
curious thing about Darrel,--these people and many more loved him,
gathering about his chair as he tinkered, hearing with delight the
lore and wisdom of his tongue, but, after all, there were none that
knew him now any better than the first day he came. A certain wall
of dignity was ever between him and them.
Half an hour before dark, the yard was thronged with people. They
listened with smiles or a faint ripple of merry feeling as he
greeted each.
"Good evening, Mrs. Beach," he would say. "Ah! the snow is falling
on thy head. An' the sunlight upon thine, dear girl," he added,
taking the hand of the woman's daughter.
"An' here's Mr. Tilly back from the far west," he continued. "How
fare ye, sor?"
"I'm well, but a little too fat," said Thurston Tilly.
"Well, sor, unless it make thy heart heavy, be content.
"Good evening, Mrs. Hooper,--that is a cunning hand with the pies.
"Ah, Mrs. Rood, may the mouse never leave thy meal bag with a tear
in his eye.
"Not a gray hair in thy head, Miss Tower, nor even a gray thought.
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