Cousin Phillis Read Free Page A

Phillis, in her grave, full voice.
    I felt as if I were somebody in the Old Testament—who, I could not
recollect—being served and waited upon by the daughter of the host.
Was I like Abraham's servant, when Rebekah gave him to drink at the
well? I thought Isaac had not gone the pleasantest way to work in
winning him a wife. But Phillis never thought about such things. She
was a stately, gracious young woman, in the dress and with the
simplicity of a child.
    As I had been taught, I drank to the health of my newfound cousin and
her husband; and then I ventured to name my cousin Phillis with a
little bow of my head towards her; but I was too awkward to look and
see how she took my compliment. 'I must go now,' said I, rising.
    Neither of the women had thought of sharing in the wine; cousin Holman
had broken a bit of cake for form's sake.
    'I wish the minister had been within,' said his wife, rising too.
Secretly I was very glad he was not. I did not take kindly to ministers
in those days, and I thought he must be a particular kind of man, by
his objecting to the term May-day. But before I went, cousin Holman
made me promise that I would come back on the Saturday following and
spend Sunday with them; when I should see something of 'the minister'.
    'Come on Friday, if you can,' were her last words as she stood at the
curate-door, shading her eyes from the sinking sun with her hand.
Inside the house sate cousin Phillis, her golden hair, her dazzling
complexion, lighting up the corner of the vine-shadowed room. She had
not risen when I bade her good-by; she had looked at me straight as she
said her tranquil words of farewell.
    I found Mr Holdsworth down at the line, hard at work superintending. As
Soon as he had a pause, he said, 'Well, Manning, what are the new
cousins like? How do preaching and farming seem to get on together? If
the minister turns out to be practical as well as reverend, I shall
begin to respect him.'
    But he hardly attended to my answer, he was so much more occupied with
directing his work-people. Indeed, my answer did not come very readily;
and the most distinct part of it was the mention of the invitation that
had been given me.
    'Oh, of course you can go—and on Friday, too, if you like; there is no
reason why not this week; and you've done a long spell of work this
time, old fellow.' I thought that I did not want to go on Friday; but
when the day came, I found that I should prefer going to staying away,
so I availed myself of Mr Holdsworth's permission, and went over to
Hope Farm some time in the afternoon, a little later than my last
visit. I found the 'curate' open to admit the soft September air, so
tempered by the warmth of the sun, that it was warmer out of doors than
in, although the wooden log lay smouldering in front of a heap of hot
ashes on the hearth. The vine-leaves over the window had a tinge more
yellow, their edges were here and there scorched and browned; there was
no ironing about, and cousin Holman sate just outside the house,
mending a shirt. Phillis was at her knitting indoors: it seemed as if
she had been at it all the week. The manyspeckled fowls were pecking
about in the farmyard beyond, and the milk-cans glittered with
brightness, hung out to sweeten. The court was so full of flowers that
they crept out upon the low-covered wall and horse-mount, and were even
to be found self-sown upon the turf that bordered the path to the back
of the house. I fancied that my Sunday coat was scented for days
afterwards by the bushes of sweetbriar and the fraxinella that perfumed
the air. From time to time cousin Holman put her hand into a covered
basket at her feet, and threw handsful of corn down for the pigeons
that cooed and fluttered in the air around, in expectation of this
treat.
    I had a thorough welcome as soon as she saw me. 'Now this is kind—this
is right down friendly,' shaking my hand warmly. 'Phillis, your cousin
Manning is come!'
    'Call me Paul, will you?' said I; 'they call me so