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Updated: May 28, 2025
He hesitated a moment, puckering his forehead into coarse rugged lines, and fidgeting noisily with his tea-cup. Presently he repeated: 'I doot but what I'll hev t' marry Rosa Blencarn after all. She rose stiffly, and stepping down from the hearth, came towards him.
He watched her shyly, with a hesitating, reverential discretion: her beauty seemed to him wonderful, distant, enigmatic. In the afternoon, young Mrs. Forsyth, from Longscale, dropped in for a cup of tea with his mother, and the two set off gossiping of Rosa Blencarn, speaking of her freely, in tones of acrimonious contempt.
'Well, good night to ye, Anthony, said the old man, clicking the gate. 'Good night, Mr. Blencarn, he called back. A few minutes later the twinkling lights of the village came in sight, and from within the sombre form of the square-towered church, looming by the roadside, the slow, solemn strains of the organ floated out on the evening air.
And then he remembered the piteous, hunted look in the girl's eyes, and the old man's words when they had parted at the paddock gate, and he blurted out: 'I doot but what I'll hev t' marry Rosa Blencarn after all. She started, and blinking her eyes, said: 'I was jest takin' a wink o' sleep. What was 't ye were saying, Tony?
Blencarn, it is a bit frittish, he answered. 'I've jest bin gittin' a few lambs off t'fell. I hope ye're keepin' fairly, an' Miss Rosa too. He spoke briefly, with a loud, spontaneous cordiality. 'Thank ye, Anthony, thank ye. Rosa's down at the church, playing over the hymns for tomorrow. How's Mrs. Garstin? 'Nicely, thank ye, Mr. Blencarn. She's wonderful active, is mother.
An' now, he concluded, changing his tone, 'is yer uncle about t' place? 'He's up the paddock, I think, she answered. 'Well, I'll jest step oop and hev a word wi' him. 'Ye're ... ye will na tell him. 'Tut, tut, na harrowin' tales, ye need na fear, lass. I reckon ef I can tackle mother, I can accommodate myself t' parson Blencarn. He rose, and coming close to her, scanned her face.
But he saw no sign of Rosa Blencarn; and, indeed, he felt no longing to see her: he was grimly exultant over the remembrance of his wooing of her, and over the knowledge that she was his. There glowed within him a stolid pride in himself: he thought of the others who had courted her, and the means by which he had won her seemed to him a fine stroke of cleverness.
I was helpin' Anna Forsyth t' choose six yards o' sheetin' in Dockroy, when we sees Rosa Blencarn coom oot o' t' 'Bell and Bullock' in company we' Curbison and young Joe Smethwick.
It was twenty-five years now since his uncle Jake's death: there were grey hairs in his sandy beard; but he still worked for his mother, as he had done when a growing lad. That had been Anthony Garstin's life a dull, eventless sort of business, the sluggish incrustation of monotonous years. And until Rosa Blencarn had come to keep house for her uncle, he had never thought twice on a woman's face.
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