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Updated: June 14, 2025
"Eleven laborers, employed by farmers on your estate, representing with their families over thirty souls, live in hovels at Morte owned by you or your agent Blagg. They are unfit for human habitation. Mr. Chiverton has given orders for the erection of groups of cottages sufficient to house the men employed on our farms, and they will be removed to them in the spring. But Mr.
Cecil Burleigh as highly as her allegiance to Mr. Chiverton permitted her to approve of anybody but himself, she spoke at some length in his praise, desiring to be agreeable. Bessie suffered her to go on without check or discouragement; she must have understood the drift of many things this evening which had puzzled her hitherto, but she made no sign.
Chiverton's countenance had lost its serenity, and would not soon recover it, but Bessie Fairfax could hardly believe her ears when the artist muttered, "Somebody take that chattering fool away;" and up he jumped, cast down his palette, and rushed out of the gallery. Mrs. Chiverton looked after him and whispered to Bessie, "What is it?"
"Oh yes at hoeing, weeding and stone-picking, in hay-time and harvest. Some of them walk from Morte four miles here and four back. There is a widow whose husband died on the home-farm it was thought not to answer to let widows remain in the cottages this woman had five young children, and when she moved to Morte, Mr. Chiverton kindly kept her on. I want her to live at our gates."
Cecil Burleigh, and others, to which she had replied. He acknowledged each item of her information with a glance, but he made no return inquiries. Mr. Chiverton had called that day, and the form in which he carried intelligence home to his wife was, "Poor Fairfax will not die of this bout, but he has got his first warning." Mrs.
"Work over for the day," whispered Bessie again, controlling an inclination to laugh. "The temperament of genius disturbed by the intrusion of unpleasant circumstances." Mrs. Chiverton was sorry; perhaps a walk in the park would recompose the little man. There he was, tearing over the grass towards the lake. Then she turned to Mr.
"I could be content to give love for love, and do my duty in the humblest station God might call me to, but not for any sake could I go into the house of bondage where no love is. Poor Mrs. Chiverton!" Bessie made a very unsentimental reply: "Poor Mrs. Chiverton, indeed! Oh, but she does not want our pity! That old man is a slave to her, just as the girls were at school.
"God forbid that we should come to that!" exclaimed Mr. Fairfax devoutly. "We have all something to mend in our ways. Our view of the responsibility that goes with the possession of land has been too narrow. If we could put ourselves in the laborer's place!" "I shall mend nothing: no John Hodge shall dictate to me," cried Mr. Chiverton in a sneering fury.
Jean. Then Madame Fournier inquired with respectful interest concerning her distinguished pupil, Madame Chiverton, of whose splendid marriage in Paris a report had reached her through her nephew. Was Monsieur Chiverton so very rich? was he so very old and ugly? was he good to his beautiful wife?
Too much grief in our first meeting to be joyful; too much pleasure to be distressing a giddy sensation between the painful and the pleasurable. I will call another subject. Read over Sir John Chiverton and Brambletye House novels in what I may surely claim as the style "Which I was born to introduce Refined it first, and show'd its use." I read both with great interest during the journey.
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