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Updated: May 5, 2025
Apart from the daily Mass, which drew him always to Whinthorpe before breakfast, there were the morning and evening prayers, the visits to the Sacrament, the two Masses on Sunday morning, Rosary and Benediction in the evening, and the many occasional services for the marking of Saints'-days or other festivals.
Laura, I can't eat all that!" "You must," said Laura firmly. "Really, Augustina, you must." "Alan's gone out," said Augustina, with a wistful inconsequence, straining her eyes as though to look through the diamond panes of the window opposite, at the park and the persons walking in it. "Yes. He seems to go to Whinthorpe every morning for Mass. Ellen says he breakfasts with the priest."
When she went into Whinthorpe to shop for Augustina she fancied that the assistants in the shop, and even the portly draper himself, looked at her with a sly curiosity. The girl's sore pride grew more unmanageable hour by hour. If there was some ill-natured gossip about her, going the round in the town and the neighbourhood, had she till now given the least shadow of excuse for it?
Augustina had been constantly ailing or fretful; either unwilling to be left alone, or possessed by absurd desires for useless trifles, only to be satisfied by Laura's going to shop in Whinthorpe. And such melancholy looks whenever the Masons were mentioned coupled with so formal a silence on Mr. Helbeck's part! What did it all mean?
And now for some time there had been negotiations going on between Helbeck and a land agent in Whinthorpe for the sale of an outlying piece of Bannisdale land, to which the growth of a little watering-place on the estuary had given of late a new value.
Helbeck had gone into Whinthorpe as usual before breakfast, and was not expected home till the evening. Mrs. Fountain was perhaps more restless and oppressed than she had been the day before. But she would hardly admit it. She lay with the relic beside her, and took the most hopeful view possible of all her symptoms. Miss Fountain herself that day was in singular beauty.
But old Jackson, our master, thowt a lot of 'em, and so did the passon down at Marsland. An his father an mother well, they thowt he was going to make all their fortunes for 'em. There was a scholarship or soomthin o' that sort an he was to get it an go to college, an make 'em all rich. They were just common wheelwrights, you understand, down on t' Whinthorpe Road. But my word, Mr.
And tell Polly I'll come and see her again some day. Now good-night! They'll be locking up if I don't hurry home." But he stood on the step, barring the way. "I say, give me something to take with me," he said hoarsely. "What's that in your hat?" "Why, a bunch of buttercups. I bought them at Whinthorpe yesterday." "Give me one," he said. "Give you a sham buttercup? What nonsense!"
As far as he or the Sister could judge there was little active suffering. But the weakness had increased rapidly that afternoon, and the breathing was much harassed. He went on to describe exactly how he had left the poor patient, giving the details with a careful minuteness. At the same moment that he had started for Miss Fountain, old Wilson had gone to Whinthorpe for the doctor.
"They'll deave yo, down i' th' town, wi their noise. Yo'd think they were warked to deaeth. Bit, yo can see for yorsen. Why, a farmin mon mut be allus agate: in t' mornin, what wi' cawves to serve, an t' coos to feed, an t' horses to fodder, yo're fair run aff your legs. Bit down i' Whinthorpe or Froswick ayder, fer it's noa odds why, theer's nowt stirrin for a yoong mon.
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