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'Why, Sylvia, thou wert saying as we topped t'brow, as she did nought but bid thee think twice afore settling on scarlet. 'Ay! but mother's words are scarce, and weigh heavy. Feyther's liker me, and we talk a deal o' rubble; but mother's words are liker to hewn stone. She puts a deal o' meaning in 'em.
'Aw, I don't seem to have no time' farmers having more time than anybody else. 'You could have come in June. 'Bless 'ee, your feyther's got the hay about; a' don't want no strangers bothering. 'As if you were a stranger! Well, why didn't you come in May? 'Lor bless 'ee, my dear. 'In April? 'Us was main busy a-hoeing. 'In March? 'I had the rheumatism bad in March.
Now, Kester, thou mun just be off, and find Harry Donkin th' tailor, and bring him here; it's gettin' on for Martinmas, an' he'll be coming his rounds, and he may as well come here first as last, and feyther's clothes want a deal o' mending up, and Harry's always full of his news, and anyhow he'll do for feyther to scold, an' be a new person too, and that's somewhat for all on us.
"Now, in my feyther's time," resumed Mottle-face serenely, "the roads vos vorse than they are to-day, ah! a sight vorse, an' as for 'ighvaymen Lord! they vos as thick as blackberries blackberries? I should say so! Theer vos footpads be'ind every 'edge gangs of 'em an' 'ighvaymen on every 'eath " "God bless my soul!" exclaimed the fussy gentleman, "so many?"
Never again would she forget that dear face, if but once more she might set her eyes upon it. Her mother's head fell with a sudden jerk, and she roused herself up; and Sylvia put by her thought of the dead, and her craving after his presence, into that receptacle of her heart where all such are kept closed and sacred from the light of common day. 'Feyther's late, said Bell.
'Thou'd ha' been t' first t' pluck him down if he'd screeched out. 'An' a'll warrant if they come about wi' a paper asking for feyther's name to make up for what Hobbs has lost by t' fire, feyther 'll be for giving him summut, said Sylvia. 'Thou knows nought about it, said Daniel. 'Hold thy tongue next time till thou's axed to speak, my wench.
Wainwright had been tearful enough with sentimental foreboding all the morning, and, when she saw the irreparable damage wrought by Feyther's ruthless hands, she began to cry in good earnest. "I knowed as summat was boun' to happen," she groaned; "dear o' me, seventeen-an'-six, no less an' the soles scarce soiled! Eh, Gaffer! it's downright flyin' i' th' face o' Providence to be so wasteful."
Mason's heavy lids blinked a moment, then she said with slowly quickening emphasis, like one mounting to a crisis: "Wat art tha doin' wi' Bannisdale Hall? What call has thy feyther's dowter to be visitin onder Alan Helbeck's roof?" Laura's open mouth showed first wonderment, then laughter. "Oh! I see," she said impatiently "you don't seem to understand.
'He's well-to-do, and can afford everything as he needs, continued she. 'His feyther's left him money, and he were a farmer out up in Northumberland, and he's reckoned such a specksioneer as never, never was, and gets what wage he asks for and a share on every whale he harpoons beside. 'I reckon he'll have to make himself scarce on this coast for awhile, at any rate, said Philip.
And when the twilight shadows fell upon it, and when the moon again lit it up, I stood there still. The face seemed to pass into my very being, and Sinfi's voice kept singing in my ears, 'Fenella Stanley's dead and dust, and that's why she can make you put that cross in your feyther's tomb, and she will, she will.
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