Agnes Grey by Anne Bronte

CHAPTER XI: THE COTTAGERS

"Well, Nancy, how are you to-day?"

"Why, middling, Miss, i' myseln—my eyes is no better, but I'm a deal easier i' my mind nor I have been," replied she, rising to welcome me with a contented smile; which I was glad to see, for Nancy had been somewhat afflicted with religious melancholy. I congratulated her upon the change. She agreed that it was a great blessing, and expressed herself "right down thankful for it"; adding, "If it please God to spare my sight, and make me so as I can read my Bible again, I think I shall be as happy as a queen."

"I hope He will, Nancy," replied I; "and, meantime, I'll come and read to you now and then, when I have a little time to spare."

With expressions of grateful pleasure, the poor woman moved to get me a chair; but, as I saved her the trouble, she busied herself with stirring the fire, and adding a few more sticks to the decaying embers; and then, taking her well-used Bible from the shelf, dusted it carefully, and gave it me. On my asking if there was any particular part she should like me to read, she answered—

"Well, Miss Grey, if it's all the same to you, I should like to hear that chapter in the First Epistle of St. John, that says, 'God is love, and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him.'"

With a little searching, I found these words in the fourth chapter. When I came to the seventh verse she interrupted me, and, with needless apologies for such a liberty, desired me to read it very slowly, that she might take it all in, and dwell on every word; hoping I would excuse her, as she was but a "simple body."

"The wisest person," I replied, "might think over each of these verses for an hour, and be all the better for it; and I would rather read them slowly than not."

Accordingly, I finished the chapter as slowly as need be, and at the same time as impressively as I could; my auditor listened most attentively all the while, and sincerely thanked me when I had done. I sat still about half a minute to give her time to reflect upon it; when, somewhat to my surprise, she broke the pause by asking me how I liked Mr. Weston?

"I don't know," I replied, a little startled by the suddenness of the question; "I think he preaches very well."

"Ay, he does so; and talks well too."

"Does he?"

"He does. Maybe, you haven't seen him—not to talk to him much, yet?"

"No, I never see any one to talk to—except the young ladies of the Hall."

"Ah; they're nice, kind young ladies; but they can't talk as he does."

"Then he comes to see you, Nancy?"

"He does, Miss; and I'se thankful for it. He comes to see all us poor bodies a deal ofter nor Maister Bligh, or th' Rector ever did; an' it's well he does, for he's always welcome: we can't say as much for th' Rector—there is "at says they're fair feared on him. When he comes into a house, they say he's sure to find summut wrong, and begin a-calling 'em as soon as he crosses th' doorstuns: but maybe he thinks it his duty like to tell 'em what's wrong. And very oft he comes o' purpose to reprove folk for not coming to church, or not kneeling an' standing when other folk does, or going to the Methody chapel, or summut o' that sort: but I can't say 'at he ever fund much fault wi' me. He came to see me once or twice, afore Maister Weston come, when I was so ill troubled in my mind; and as I had only very poor health besides, I made bold to send for him—and he came right enough. I was sore distressed, Miss Grey—thank God, it's owered now—but when I took my Bible, I could get no comfort of it at all. That very chapter "at you've just been reading troubled me as much as aught—'He that loveth not, knoweth not God.' It seemed fearsome to me; for I felt that I loved neither God nor man as I should do, and could not, if I tried ever so. And th' chapter afore, where it says,—'He that is born of God cannot commit sin.' And another place where it says,—'Love is the fulfilling of the Law.' And many, many others, Miss: I should fair weary you out, if I was to tell them all. But all seemed to condemn me, and to show me "at I was not in the right way; and as I knew not how to get into it, I sent our Bill to beg Maister Hatfield to be as kind as look in on me some day and when he came, I telled him all my troubles."