'Perhaps so,' replied the old man doubtfully. 'It may be.'
'Whether it be as I believe it is, or no,' thought the child within
herself, 'I'll make this place my garden. It will be no harm at
least to work here day by day, and pleasant thoughts will come of
it, I am sure.'
Her glowing cheek and moistened eye passed unnoticed by the sexton,
who turned towards old David, and called him by his name. It was
plain that Becky Morgan's age still troubled him; though why, the
child could scarcely understand.
The second or third repetition of his name attracted the old man's
attention. Pausing from his work, he leant on his spade, and put
his hand to his dull ear.
'Did you call?' he said.
'I have been thinking, Davy,' replied the sexton, 'that she,' he
pointed to the grave, 'must have been a deal older than you or me.'
'Seventy-nine,' answered the old man with a shake of the head, 'I
tell you that I saw it.'
'Saw it?' replied the sexton; 'aye, but, Davy, women don't always
tell the truth about their age.'
'That's true indeed,' said the other old man, with a sudden sparkle
in his eye.
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