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Updated: June 26, 2025
Not that John Broom was her only hearer. Annie "the lass" sat by the hearth also, and Thomasina took care that she did not "sit with her hands before her." And a little farther away sat the cowherd. He had a sleeping-room above the barn, and took his meals in the house.
Rhoda noted with relief that she looked brighter than for days past, as if some good news had arrived from the home about which she was so anxious. "This sounds improving," she cried, merrily. "Thomasina holding a Latin class! I am glad you have found such an exemplary way of passing the afternoon.
He wanted to be out again, and he had a tantalizing remembrance of the ease with which the tender juicy stalks of the tulips went snap, snap, in that new place of amusement he had discovered. Thomasina looked into the kitchen and went away again. When she had gone, John Broom went away also. He went both faster and steadier on his bare feet.
The havoc which this caused amongst the glass and china was bewildering in a household where tea-sets and dinner-sets had passed from generation to generation, where slapdash, giddy-pated kitchenmaids never came, where Miss Betty washed the best teacups in the parlor, where Thomasina was more careful than her mistress, and the breaking of a single plate was a serious matter, and, if beyond rivetting, a misfortune.
She laid her hand affectionately on the curly head, and the touch of kindliness acted as balm to Rhoda's sore heart. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she said huskily: "I'll do anything you tell me. I won't mind; but that Thomasina she's hateful! I can't stand being ordered about by a girl of my own age."
Of course if we go a very long way, I give them a rest next day and drive the cobs, but as a rule they go out regularly." Thomasina shook her head in solemnest disapproval. "That's a mistake! You should change every day. The merciful man is merciful to his beast. I can't endure to see people thoughtless in these matters.
'We toasted you, madam, in the carriage, in an excellent good glass of wine; toasted you fathom deep; the finest woman, with, begad, the finest eyes in Grunewald. I never saw the like of them but once, in my own country, when I was a young fool at College: Thomasina Haig her name was. I give you my word of honour, she was as like you as two peas.
And John Broom's curiosity was never quenched about the rough, hairy Good-fellow who worked at night that others might be idle by day, and who was sometimes caught at his hard earned nap, lying "like a great hurgin bear," where the boy loved to lie himself, before the fire, on this very hearth. Why and where he had gone, Thomasina could not tell.
After which she took him to Thomasina, and Miss Kitty collected the rose-colored tulips and put them into water in the best old china punch-bowl. In the course of the afternoon she peeped into the kitchen, where John Broom sat on the floor under the window, gazing thoughtfully up into the sky. "As good as gold, bless his little heart!" murmured Miss Kitty.
That it would probably be the means of the poor child's ruin, body and soul, if they were. That the master of the neighbouring workhouse bore a bad character. That a child costs nothing to keep where cows are kept too for years. That Thomasina had taken to him. That there need be no nonsense about it, as he could be brought up in his proper station in life in the kitchen and the farm yard.
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