You don't hold with religion, do you?"
"I does not, so far, my daughter; though I think the young clergywoman
speaks very convincingly about it."
"Don't you think that there may be a better world, Mother, for them that
tries to do right, though things goes against them here?"
"I think there might very easily be a better world, my dear, but I never
was instructed about it."
"You don't believe in prayers, do you, Mother?"
"That I does not, my daughter. Christian said lots of 'em, and you sees
what it comes to."
"It's not unlucky to say 'GOD bless you,' is it, Mother? I
wanted you to say it before I go."
"No, my daughter, I doesn't object to that, for I regards it as an
old-fashioned compliment, more in the nature of good manners than of
holy words."
"GOD bless you, Mother."
"GOD bless you, my daughter."
Sybil turned round and walked steadily away. The last glimpse I had of
her was when she turned once more, and put the hair from her face to
look at the old woman: but the tinker-mother did not see her, for she
was muttering with her head upon her hands.
* * * * *
It was a remarkable summer--that summer when I had seven, and when we
took so much interest in our neighbours.
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