PATIENCE.
"I'm the wealthy miller yet."
TENNYSON.
Most devoted was the diligence with which Steadfast toiled and saved
with the hope before him. Since the two young girls were no longer
at home, and Ben had grown into a strong lad, Stead held that many
little indulgences might be dispensed with, one by one, either
because they cost money or prevented it from being acquired. No
cheese was bought now, and he wanted to sell all the butter and all
the apples that were not defective.
Patience contrived that Ben should never be stinted of his usual
fare; and she would, not allow that he needed no warm coat for the
winter, but she said nothing about the threadbare state of her own
petticoat, and she stirred nothing but the thinnest buttermilk into
her own porridge, and not even that when the little pigs required it.
It was all for Stead.
Patience at twenty was not an uncomely maiden so far as kindly blue
eyes, fresh healthy cheeks, and perfect neatness could make her
agreeable to look at, but there was an air of carefulness, and of
having done a great deal of hard work, which had made her seem out of
the reach of the young men who loitered and talked with the maidens
on the village green, and looked wistfully at the spot where the
maypole had once stood.
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