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Mose spoke to his mettled steeds and soon they were drawing the carriage over an unfrequented road through a deep forest to the cabin of Harrop Sneath. He and his house were typical of the poorest of the "poor whites." His cabin consisted of one room, about fourteen feet square, with one door and no windows. It was made of unhewn logs plastered with clay.
"If she were to refuse, it wadna surprise me." "Nothing spiteful she could do would surprise me," remarked Harrop. "But how are you likely to know what your mother will think and do, you forward little hussy?" "Ey judge fro circumstances," replied the little girl. "Mother has often said she conna weel spare Alizon.
"Wi' sich misgivings ey wonder ye wish to tak Alizon, madam," said Jennet; "fo she's os much o' her mother about her os me, onny she dunna choose to show it." "Peace, thou mischievous urchin," cried Mistress Nutter, losing all patience. "Shall I take her away?" said Harrop seizing her hand. "Ay, do," said Mistress Nutter.
Miss Tarrant, if she had not known so well what men are, would never have dreamed that Dr. Midleton, a scholar and a divine, could surrender to corporeal attractions. She declared that she could no longer expect any profit from his ministrations, and that she should leave the parish. Miss Tarrant's friends, however, did not go quite so far, and Mrs. Harrop confessed to Mrs.
"She must have learned that in London," said Mrs. Harrop. "London! my dear Mrs. Harrop," replied Mrs. Bingham, "I know London pretty well, and how things are cut there. I told you there was a French book on the table. Take my word for it, she has lived in Paris. She MUST have lived there." "Where is Great Ormond Street, Mrs. Bingham?" inquired Mrs. Sweeting.
The cooking utensils consisted of an iron pot, which hung in the big chimney, a kettle and skillet and a few pewter and tin dishes. The loft was the sleeping place of most of the children. It was reached by a ladder of wooden pins driven into the logs. Harrop Sneath was too lazy and shiftless to work much.
"You've found your match, Master Harrop," said the steward, laughing, as the little girl walked away. "I should account it a disgrace to bandy words with the like of her, Adam," rejoined the clerk, angrily; "but I'm greatly out in my reckoning, if she does not make a second Mother Demdike, and worse could not well befall her."
He coughed; the sounds were intensified; a spasm of pain ran over his face; and he put his damp hand to his side. "Pain in my side!" he whispered with difficulty. Constance stepped into the drawing-room, where Cyril was sketching by the fire. "Cyril," she said, "go across and ask Dr. Harrop to come round at once. And if he isn't in, then his new partner." "Is it for father?" "Yes."
But although for half a lifetime we may have beheld nothing better than an imperfect actual, we recognise instantly the superiority and glory of the realised Ideal when it is presented to us. Mrs. Harrop, Mrs. Cobb, Mrs. Sweeting, and Miss Tarrant became suddenly aware of possibilities of which they had not hitherto dreamed. Mrs. Swanley, the linendraper's wife, was degraded and deposed.
"Amy," she said, "it's a Doctor Stirling that your mistress has when she's ill, isn't it?" "Yes, m'm." "Where is his surgery?" "Well, m'm, he did live just opposite, with Dr. Harrop, but latterly he's gone to live at Bleakridge." "I wish you would put your things on, and run up there and ask him to call as soon as he can." "I will, m'm," said Amy, with the greatest willingness.
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