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"Oh!" she sighed, "how slowly the train goes, aren't we nearly there, Miss Grace?" "Only a few moments now, dear. This is Crossley, the next station to ours. Don't you recognize any landmarks yet?" Jessie sprang to the window and remained there, fascinated, enchanted, drinking it all in, trying to realize that all was not a happy dream, but glorious reality.
She read the words aloud, laughing at their silly sentimentality, she and Moldini and Crossley making jokes about it. Soon she said: "I'm ready." She sang it well. She asked them to let her try it again. And the second time, with the words in her mind and the simple melody, she was able to put expression into it and to indicate, with restraint, the action. Crossley came down the aisle.
Crossley herself taking a full share in the labours and responsibility of her husband. "In addition to the carpet making," she says in the Manuscript Memoir of her life, "we carried on the manufacture of shalloons and plainbacks, the whole of which I managed myself, so far as putting out the warps and weft, and taking in from the weavers.
She must take a ride with him on Monday and Tuesday afternoons, for practice. The Monday's ride was charming; through Verdon woods, and home over the heath from Crossley End. The circuit, which was to have been three miles, had extended to ten.
While he was speaking Mr Crossley rang the bell and politely opened the dining-room door, so that our hero found himself in the street before he had quite recovered from his astonishment. "Please, sir," said Mrs Bland to her master after Charlie was gone, "Cap'en Stride is awaitin' in the library." "Send him here," said Crossley, once more consulting his watch.
But if so, tumultuously, and under stress of catastrophic impulsions. A picture obtained by Mr. Perrine with the Crossley refractor, in 7h. 19m., on November 7 and 8, disclosed the progress of a startling change.
Currer was an excellent man of business, his wife was too fond of show, and the large fine house in which she was to live proved her husband's ruin. He died shortly after it was finished, and then the whole of his establishment was broken up. After leaving Mr. Currer, John Crossley removed to Halifax to take the management of Mr. Job Lees' carpet manufactory in Lower George Yard, Halifax.
You may not believe it, but Crossley is a gentleman." She walked on in silence. "I did not expect your failure to come so soon or in quite that way," he went on. "I got Mrs. Brindley to exact a promise from you that you'd let her know about yourself. I called on Mrs. Belloc one day when you were out, and gave her my confidence and got hers and assured myself that you were in good hands.
But the vow of Martha Crossley was not yet entirely fulfilled: "If the Lord does bless us at this place, the poor shall taste of it." That was what she promised on her husband's entering into possession of Dean Clough Mills; and her sons have nobly fulfilled her promise.
His red garment, by the way, was at the time all concealed by the pilot-coat, excepting the collar. "Going home for a spell, I suppose?" said Crossley. "Yes." "May I ask where you last hailed from?" said Captain Stride, with some curiosity, for there was something in the appearance of this nautical stranger which interested him. "From the southern seas.
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