Blair Collection > Rhys Lewis, minister of Bethel

RHYS LEWIS.
bring me down an extra slice of pudding or some other delicacy.
I saw the importance of making a fast friend of her, and com-
pletely succeeded. Abel Hughes, in the house, spoke no more
than was necessary either for business or instruction. His
sister was no exception to her sex. She was very fond of a
chat, and I, on my part, endeavoured to appear as if I took a
special pleasure in her small talk and trifling, all the while
that something within me kept softly saying "fiddlesticks!"
She liked to hear all I knew of everybody and everything. My
store of knowledge was but scanty ; but as often as it gave
signs of exhaustion, I never hesitated seeking help from my
imagination, which was lively enough always. I won Miss
Hughes's favour, and that paid me well. If Abel fancied I
had transgressed, Miss Hughes came forward to prove it was
from ignorance I did so. If something showed itself in my
character not quite in keeping with Abel's views, Miss Hughes
would at once make it bright as burnished gold. Jones,
also, was most useful in showing up my virtues. . Miss Hughes
had no patience even to speak of Jones, except as a means of
jiroving my superiority over him. How did I feel ? What did
I think of myself.* I felt myself a very different lad from what
I was when mother was alive. I sometimes thought Miss
Hughes did not know all about me. I could not help observing
the difference between Miss Hughes and mother. I believe
mother could see further through an oaken board than Miss
Hughes could through her spectacles. Was I a bad boy?
Who dared say so ? True, Abel and his sister did not know one
half of my history. Why should they ? If mother knew all
my affairs, even to my thoughts, Abel Hughes and his sister
need not; a resolve at which someone said "Bravo!" But
who ? I did not know ; but I felt, somehow, I was my own
master, and that I could twist Miss Hughes round my fingers.
I am surprised to think, and ashamed to remember, how free I
made with her. I flattered her in the most shameless way.
She asked me once how old I thought she was ? (She did not
know I had seen the date of her birth in the family Bible, kept
in the cupboard and that, according to the entry, she "waa
then in her sixtieth year.)
"Well," replied I, "though you look young. Miss Hughes,
I shouldn't wonder if you were somewhere about forty."