Mr. Chantrey ran in often, as he
was passing by, partly because he felt a real friendship, for the
true-hearted, struggling old maid, and partly to see after her
good-for-nothing brother. As Ann Holland had said herself, she was ready
to go through fire and water for the sake of these friends and patrons
of hers, whose kindness was the brightest element in her life.
After much tearful deliberation, she received upon the daring step of
going to Bolton Villa, on an errand to Mrs. Bolton, with a vague hope
that she might discover how false this cruel scandal was. There was a
bridle of Mrs. Bolton's in the shop, which had been sent for a new curb,
and she would take it home herself. Early the next afternoon, therefore.
she clad herself in her best Sunday clothes, and made her way slowly
along the streets toward the church. It was but slowly for she rarely
went out on a week day, when her neighbors' shops were open; and there
were too many attractions in the windows for even her anxiety and
consciousness of a solemn mission to resist altogether.
The church and the rectory looked so peaceful amid the trees, just
tinged with the hues of autumn, that Ann Holland's spirits insensibly
revived.
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