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 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD, 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 PKINTED BY BALLANTVNE AND COMPANY 
 EDINBURGH AND LONDON
 
 THIS WORK-A-DAY 
 WORLD. 
 
 HOLME LEE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 'SVLVAN holt's daughter," "BEAUTIFUL MISS HARRINGTON, 
 
 "vicissitudes of BESSIE FAIRFAX." 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 SMITH, ELDER, & CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE. 
 
 1S75.
 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CD 
 
 II. 
 
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 III. 
 
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 IV. 
 
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 V. 
 
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 VI. 
 
 
 VII. 
 
 
 VIII. 
 
 1 
 
 IX. 
 
 ^ 
 
 X. 
 
 
 XI. 
 
 ^T 
 
 XII. 
 
 X 
 
 
 >^XIII. 
 
 ^ XIV. 
 
 
 XV. 
 
 Q^ 
 
 XVI. 
 XVII. 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 g 
 
 XVIII 
 
 XIX. 
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH 
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH'S CHILDREN 
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH'S NOTIONS 
 
 AUNT AGNES AT COTHAM . 
 
 THE DRAWING-CLASS 
 
 THE MANOR SCHOOL 
 
 UNDER A CLOUD 
 
 BETWEEN THE SHOWERS . 
 
 VARIABLE WEATHER 
 
 CHECKS ON THE THRESHOLD 
 
 A BEGINNING 
 
 HALL GREEN 
 
 PERILS IN THAT STATE OF LIFE 
 
 DELPHINE MERCIER'S JOE . 
 
 FRESH SCENES ANTD PASTURES NEW 
 
 IN THE WALLED GARDEN . 
 
 AN OUTING FOR THE GIRLS 
 
 PLEASANT ENTERTAINMENT 
 
 AT A ROCKBRO' BALL 
 
 4. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I 
 
 14 
 
 27 
 
 39 
 
 73 
 
 85 
 
 103 
 
 117 
 
 133 
 
 160 
 178 
 191 
 208 
 22 1 
 229 
 244 
 259 
 275 
 297
 
 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH. 
 
 Fifty years ago Castle Green at Cotham was 
 still an irregular open space, bounded on three 
 sides by fine, timbered houses, and on the 
 other by the river Foss. The Castle had 
 ceased to exist save in tradition, and in a bit 
 of crumbling wall here and there, known only 
 to local antiquaries ; but the royal quarter main- 
 tained its dignity, and the old houses continued 
 to be the chosen habitation of those profes- 
 sional persons whose avocations tied them to 
 the town, though already the taste for retire- 
 ment to suburban fields was beginning to infect 
 the richer sort. 
 
 There were no shops on the Green at this 
 
 i VOL. I. A
 
 2 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 date, nor until several years later, and the first 
 that was opened was the occasion of much 
 heart-burning in the select community. It was 
 as little obtrusive as shop could be, but the 
 offence of it was not easily condoned. Hesketh 
 was the name upon the door, and a legend, 
 exposed to public view in the window of the 
 original front parlour, gave all whom it con- 
 cerned to understand that Anna Hesketh was 
 a shoemaker's draper, and dealt in leathers, 
 foreign and domestic, prunellas, lastings, galoons 
 and trimmings. 
 
 Mrs Anna Hesketh was a widow, the young- 
 est of six sisters, born in the lower-middle rank 
 of life, and all married In the third decade of 
 the century. As she was the youngest so she 
 was the last to settle (she was nine-and-twenty 
 when she married, and had prospered for some 
 years as the chief milliner at Hulton) and 
 In point of money and social standing, she was 
 considered to have done better than any of her 
 sisters. But time, who tries all' things, proved 
 that in reality she had done the worst. For 
 while the bread-winners of the others were
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH. 3 
 
 rising by prudent thrift and counsel, Anna's 
 gay and graceful partner was declining by 
 qualities quite the opposite of theirs. 
 
 George Hesketh was the elder son of a mer- 
 chant in the city of London, a young gentleman 
 of popular manners, who sang a good song, told 
 a good story, dressed well, looked well, and was 
 always ready to lend his name to an embarrassed 
 friend. The young couple set up house at 
 Cotham on their marriage : that ancient town 
 being a convenient central point In the northern 
 circuit w^hich Hesketh & Co. travelled for 
 orders. The Firm had a name for a long esta- 
 blished and extensive wholesale trade In such 
 goods as were then in general use amongst 
 cordwainers, but the fluctuations of fashion, and 
 other circumstances as well, were already im- 
 pairing Its prosperity. 
 
 Anna had no inkling of this for a long 
 while. George Hesketh did not invite his 
 wife to take any interest in the business. 
 All he required from her was that she should 
 keep him a pleasant home, and give his boon- 
 companions a pleasant welcome when he
 
 4 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 brought them to his fireside. Two children, 
 a boy and a girl, were born to them in the 
 house on Castle Green, where they lived 
 with the same appearance of substantial com- 
 fort as the world around them. The first 
 warning Anna received of anything going 
 wrong was the sight of two bailiffs in the 
 house, taking an inventory of the furniture. 
 She had been out for a walk by the river 
 with the two children and the nurse, and this 
 was the spectacle that met her when she 
 came home. She used to tell her little girl 
 in after years that it was on this occasion she 
 fainted for the only time in her life. But she 
 rallied from the shock like a woman of spirit, 
 and set herself to rescue the best salvage she 
 could out of the wreck. She astonished her 
 neighbours by the vigour and promptitude with 
 which she acted. They had known her hither- 
 to merely as a pretty, elegantly dressed little 
 woman, who held her head rather high, and 
 condescended to few intimacies. George Hes- 
 keth's importunate creditors received each a 
 visit from her, the bailiffs were withdrawn, and
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH. 5 
 
 a longer day was granted in consideration of 
 his wife's pledge that they should be paid, if 
 they would give him time. 
 
 The years that followed this incident were 
 far less happy for the young couple than those 
 that had gone before. Anna's pride and affec- 
 tion had been stung to the quick by her hus- 
 band's closeness. She never brought herself 
 thoroughly to forgive him. She took upon her 
 to question and investigate ; she made further 
 mortifying discoveries, and insisted on signal re- 
 trenchments. She found her modest dower of a 
 thousand pounds (her own earning and saving) 
 which she had supposed to be laid up against a 
 rainy day, gone by driblets, and nothing to 
 show for it ; she found the fruits of waste in 
 accumulated debts, and the fruits of negligence 
 in lost custom and credit. Once she had beo^un 
 to search into his affairs, George let her go on ; 
 let her serve him as clerk and overseer, while 
 he spent his evenings at the tavern and the 
 play, was still late o' nights and drowsy in the 
 mornings, still devoted to his pleasures and 
 careless of his duties.
 
 6 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 Never a woman of many words, his wife 
 became now silent to austerity. She took a 
 lodger into the upstairs sitting-room, whose 
 rent paid the house-rent ; she discarded the 
 nurse, curtailed the cost of her own and her 
 children's dress, limited the luxuries of her 
 table, and frowned away the locusts who 
 would have continued to prey on their di- 
 minished substance. Thus home was made 
 dull and unattractive. The master of the 
 house felt himself thrust into a corner of 
 it, and complained that on his return from 
 his journeys Anna was more eager to inspect 
 his order-book than glad to see him, and 
 minister to his comfort. Perhaps he was 
 not without reason in his complaints : money- 
 anxiety is a nail that corrodes comfort fast. 
 Anna, on her side, used to plead that if once 
 they were released from the pressure of debt 
 she could be herself again, and easy. But 
 this pressure was not to be taken off, nor 
 ease restored while George lived. 
 
 About two years after the first act in their 
 tragedy Hesketh and Co. were in the
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH. 7 
 
 Gazette. Mr Hesketh the elder came down 
 to Gotham while their affairs were in process 
 of liquidation, and paid his son and his 
 daughter-in-law a long visit. He was a most 
 agreeable old gentleman, quite the gentleman, 
 and perhaps it was a mercy that he and his 
 old lady-wife were taken from a world of 
 trouble without any prolonged shivering in 
 the bitter winds of adversity. Their son 
 George was soon to follow them. One night 
 he came in from a late carouse after the play 
 highly exhilarated. The next morning he 
 set out in the rain with a party of friends 
 for Norminster races. When he re-appeared 
 at the week's end, he had a heavy cold upon 
 him, and his temper was so morose that the 
 poor children were scared into silence, and 
 kept out of his sight. His wife knew with- 
 out telling that he had lost at Norminster 
 what he could not pay. But some subtle fear 
 and prevision held her in. check, and she gave 
 her grieved and angry thoughts no tongue. 
 It seemed that her patience touched him, and 
 re-awakened his better mind. On the last
 
 8 THIS WORK-A-DAY WOR-LD. 
 
 Sunday morning of his life he went to church 
 with her again, and in the evening he heard 
 the children read a chapter in the Bible, 
 and repeat a hymn before they went to bed. 
 
 Afterwards, being alone with his wife, he 
 said to her : ' I have been nothing but a care 
 to you, Anna/ She looked at him wistfully, 
 and did not deny it. * I hope the little ones 
 will make you amends.* 
 
 ^ Don't talk in that way, George — you 
 will turn over a new leaf,' replied she. 
 
 * It is too late. I have thrown away my 
 chances. My poor brother Tom has done 
 no good either ; but their Aunt Agnes will 
 be a friend to the children. Don't let them 
 sink — she will help you to give them a genteel 
 education.* 
 
 Genteel I That word was odious to Anna. 
 It stood for a thousand pretences, affectations, 
 vulgarities that her simple, honest soul could 
 not away with. 
 
 * I will give them a useful education, and 
 bring them up to help themselves — both the 
 boy and the girl/ said she coldly.
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH. 9 
 
 * I know you will do your duty by them 
 better than I have done mine by any of you,' 
 said George. And then he was quiet. 
 
 Anna had forgotten her wiles of tenderness, 
 but her heart ached and reproached her never- 
 theless. She wanted to speak kindly to him 
 again, but somehow her lips could not frame 
 the gentle words once familiar enough. He 
 had not been a good husband to her — but had 
 she made the best of him ? 
 
 The following day rubicund Dr Franks 
 was sent for to prescribe for George Hesketh. 
 The doctor was more of a jolly companion 
 than of a physician, and in discoursing loudly 
 of events on the turf, he lost sight of his 
 friend's fever and inflammation. Anna had to 
 recall him to his professional duty, and then, 
 for five minutes the doctor was serious. Each 
 of his subsequent visits was like the first : 
 half an hour for sporting gossip, and five 
 minutes for his patient's case. George died. 
 Perhaps he would have died just the same 
 had the grave and reverend Dr Archer at- 
 tended him ; but Anna did not think so, and
 
 lO THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 Dr Franks was not Invited to attend the 
 funeral. The widow burled her husband in 
 the churchyard of St Stephen Martyr, at the 
 corner of Castle Green, only she and her 
 two children — children of seven and five years 
 old — walking behind the coffin to the grave, 
 with her former nurse and the undertaker's 
 man. She would engage In no avoidable 
 expense ; for when George died, she did not 
 know whether she had a shilling that she could 
 rightly call her own. He even lay In the grave 
 more than a year before any stone marked it. 
 
 Much of the happy-go-lucky sort of advice, 
 which kind-hearted busy-bodies are ever ready 
 to offer, fell to Mrs Hesketh's lot before her 
 mind was made up as to what it would be 
 feasible and judicious to do for the future 
 maintenance of herself and her children. She 
 never looked down in the world for a moment, 
 though she might well have sunk under the 
 discouraging doubts, fears, possibilities and 
 uncertainties which the same Idly active imagi- 
 nations were eager to suggest. She had more
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH. 1 1 
 
 Wit than seriously to heed either her would-be 
 directors or her alarmists. She was aware of 
 her own capabilities, and willing to exert them. 
 Industry and thrift were born in her, and she 
 had no false pride to be a hindrance to any 
 effort that might seem a duty. She took a 
 calm survey of her position. Mr Andrews, 
 the lodger in possession of her upstairs parlour 
 and spare bed-room, was contented to stay 
 there, and in the large attic at the top of the 
 old house were left goods enough to stock a 
 shop for a year, even if all the remaining 
 customers of her late husband continued their 
 orders to her. She got a pledge of support 
 from the majority, and the London Firm which 
 had risen on the ruins of Hesketh & Co., 
 declared themselves willing to establish busi- 
 ness relations with the enterprising widow. 
 Finally, she was in the midst of people who 
 had known her in better days, and had known 
 nothing to her disadvantage — a weighty reason 
 with a woman for staying where she was. 
 Fair-weather acquaintances she could no longer 
 associate with on equal terms, but she had one
 
 1 2 , THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 or two friends whom she could trust for friend- 
 liness in all fortunes. And thus it came to 
 pass that on a certain Saturday in June, about 
 two months after George Hesketh's death, his 
 wife's name appeared in the advertisement 
 sheet of the Cotham Herald, soliciting the con- 
 tinued support of his former patrons, and on 
 the Monday following — Midsummer day of all 
 the good days in the year — the shop on Castle 
 Green was opened. 
 
 The widow Hesketh belonged to that now 
 extinct order of widows indeed who cut off 
 their long hair, and covered their heads with 
 muslin caps, ruffled and crimped in triple tiers 
 round the face. A very serious, self-possessed 
 face was hers thus invested. She was not 
 forty, and she was still handsome, but a jest 
 with the widow Hesketh was impossible. The 
 calm, grave regard of her sensible brown eyes 
 quelled the rising thought of familiarity, and tied 
 the most idle and presumptuous tongues. A 
 very little while sufficed to convince all men 
 that the widow Hesketh was a woman to be 
 respected, and let alone; a woman who had
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH. I 3 
 
 made up her mind about men, and was as well 
 able to fend and care for herself as ever a man 
 in Cotham. She proved shrewd, accurate, 
 methodical and punctual in business, and a 
 modest, equal sort of prosperity was the result. 
 Her regular, pious behaviour, and possibly her 
 indifference to criticism, disarmed adverse 
 opinion, and settled her soon in excellent 
 credit w^ith her neighbours. In a couple of 
 years she had got her white-coifed head well 
 above water ; in two or three more she was 
 able to look about her and consider her ways 
 and means for her children's provision in the 
 future. That was her object in life — the bring- 
 ing up and putting out in the world of her 
 children — of George's children whom he had 
 charged her not to let sink. She had no 
 ambition for them, and no great expectations, 
 but she had a duty to fulfil, and for the issue 
 she must trust God. 
 
 That was how she stated the matter to her 
 kinsfolk and her own conscience, and perhaps 
 she could not have stated it more simply or 
 more wisely.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETh's CHILDREN. 
 
 It was a brilliant December morning after a 
 week of keen frost. There had been a fresh 
 fall of snow In the night which the house- 
 holders, In obedience to police regulations, had 
 swept off the flags into the road. Ashes, saw- 
 dust, sand or salt had been strewn in front of 
 each Inhabited dwelling, for the prevention of 
 slides on the adhesive Icy particles, but on 
 Bankslde, next the river, the boys had It all 
 their own way, and long lines of them, with 
 book-bags hung round their necks, went down 
 the shining black perils with arms extended to 
 maintain their balance. It was on the way to 
 school, to the Free Grammar School, that is, 
 where every native-born boy of Cotham was 
 entitled to a liberal education ; and there was 
 Dick Hesketh with a score or two more, getting
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH S CHILDREN. 1 5 
 
 himself into a glow before going in at nine 
 o'clock for his little Latin and less Greek. 
 
 His sister Winny stood shivering and looking 
 on, and stamping her little club-boots that were 
 covered with coarse worsted socks, to avert 
 the dangers of slipperiness. Winny could 
 slide, and liked sliding, but Dick would not 
 let her slide with the town-boys. Dick was 
 rather strict in his notions of propriety for 
 girls — of course, such notions were derived 
 from his mother, who instructed him that it 
 was necessary to take care of his sister out-of- 
 doors ; and as the school Winny went to was 
 at the corner of Church Street, on the road to 
 the Grammar School, they walked there and 
 back under the same umbrella when it rained, 
 and in all weathers they quitted the house 
 together under the widow's eye. 
 
 The first stroke of nine by the town clock 
 was the signal for a general scamper. Winny 
 ran too, valiantly plunging through the heaps 
 of soft snow above her boots, and cheerfully 
 receiving now and again a handful snatched up 
 in haste, and dashed at random against the
 
 I 6 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 fairest mark. When she rushed Into Mrs 
 Mason's porch her aspect was that of the female 
 Esquimaux represented In her geography-book, 
 escaping from a storm. * Shake yourself before 
 you come In, Miss Hesketh,' cried a voice, and 
 WInny ran out and shook herself — shook the 
 beaver bonnet on her head, her fur tippet loaded 
 with crisp white dust, her red merino frock 
 fringed with the same, and jumped half-a-dozen 
 times vehemently up and down to unload her 
 queer little elephantine feet. * There, there, 
 that will do — come In ; ' said the same voice ; 
 and Winny went In, and the door was shut. 
 
 After school Dick overtook his sister with a 
 * Halloo, Winny ! stop ! — Do you know that the 
 Foss Islands are frozen over ? I shall ask 
 mother if I may have holiday this afternoon, 
 and go,' he announced triumphantly. 
 
 ' O Dick, ask mother if I may go with you — 
 please do,' cried Winny in almost ecstatic sup- 
 plication. 
 
 ' No. Besides she would not let you if I did. 
 Don't bother, and on Saturday you shall go with 
 me to the Ings, if the Foss Islands won't bear.'
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH S CHILDREN. I 7 
 
 * The Ings won't bear if the Foss Islands 
 won't/ pleaded Winny. 
 
 * You know nothing about it — then you can 
 slide all down the flags under the Asylum 
 wair— 
 
 Winny knew that words were vain when 
 Dick had made up his mind. She went to 
 school again after dinner, and Dick got his 
 mother's leave to go to the Foss Islands on 
 the plea that before next half-holiday the frost 
 would very likely break-up. He had noble 
 sport, and came home as hot as a toast just 
 before tea-time. The warm place at the round 
 table nearest the fire was Dick's by right — 
 or by use and custom — and Winny sat opposite, 
 between the table and the wall, and their mother 
 in the chimney-corner. After tea out came the 
 children's lesson-books, and Dick's slate with 
 a long something to write. Mrs Hesketh was 
 busy first with the shop-books ; then she took 
 her knitting — blue yarn socks for Dick — and 
 knitted in a silence that might be felt. Winny 
 covered her ears, rested her elbows on the table, 
 and applied eyes and mind to learning her 
 
 VOL. L B
 
 1 8 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 lessons for the next day. Presently Dick tried 
 to attract her attention — by grimaces, by a fic- 
 titious cough, and finally by kicking her under 
 the table. Then Winny looked up, and Dick 
 formed with his lips a soundless question : 
 * Where is " Barnaby Rudge " ? ' Winny in- 
 cautiously answered out loud : * I spoke first 
 for It, Dick.' Dick frowned and shook his head, 
 and glanced at his mother who came out of her 
 reverie, and gazed mildly round. Winny was 
 red and guilty in the face ; Dick seemed above 
 suspicion of underhand dealing. 
 
 * When you know your lessons, Winny, get 
 to your sewing until eight o'clock,' said Mrs 
 Hesketh in a tone not to be denied. 
 
 Winny stared hard at the page of French 
 phrases she had to learn by heart for ten minutes 
 longer, and Dick grinned a half-ashamed little 
 grin of satisfaction. Then he clapped up his 
 books, and extended a grubby red and brown 
 fist for that delightful volume — poor Winny 
 had been sitting upon it for security since before 
 tea ; and she had now to rise, and pass it over 
 to Dick, so inexpressibly blest in being a boy,
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH'S CHILDREN. 1 9 
 
 and consequently exempt from horrid sew- 
 ing. 
 
 It was wristbands, shirt- wristbands for that 
 same Dick, Winny was at work upon, and she 
 bored away with conscientious diHgence, though 
 eight o'clock would come none the sooner for 
 her industry. The pair she had in hand were 
 finished some minutes before the hour, and 
 with a flickering hope and expectation that 
 she might now be permitted to give over, she 
 said : ' Mother, I have done these.' But that 
 Spartan widow only rejoined : ' Then get 
 another pair.' Winny did as she was bid, 
 and would not have felt mortified had not 
 Dick wagged his head at her, rejoicing in 
 his own pleasure, so much the further pro- 
 longed. 
 
 Eight o'clock struck when it was due, and 
 Winny on the instant disposed of her sewing, 
 and appealed for the book. 
 
 * Let me finish this chapter,' said Dick with 
 an air of remonstrance. 
 
 ' Is it very long ? ' asked Winny. 
 
 *No — none of the chapters are very long,'
 
 20 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 said Dick, and sunk his head in the fascinating 
 page. 
 
 Winny went round to the further side of the 
 fire, to the old wicker rocking-chair, rocked 
 herself slowly and watched the fire. Once Dick 
 peeped behind him, and saw ^ from her eyes 
 that she was making pictures in the red embers. 
 He was a long while finishing that chapter. 
 But suddenly Winny came to herself, jumped 
 up, and looked over his shoulder : ' Oh, Dick, 
 you have begun another ! ' cried she. 
 
 * Who told you to look over my shoulder ? 
 There — take it ! ' said Dick, and Winny got 
 the book, at last. 
 
 Winny's enjoyment was not marred by its 
 delay or by Dick's discontent She did not 
 yield to any impulse of sacrifice, and offer to 
 give it up to her brother. She just looked at 
 him, and took her right ; and Dick, thrown on 
 his own limited resources, went to see by the 
 kitchen-clock how long it wanted to his sister s 
 bed-time. Susan was already setting out upon 
 the tray the apple-pasties and cups of milk for 
 the children's supper. At a quarter to nine
 
 THE WIDO\Y HESKETH S CHILDREN. 2 I 
 
 she carried It into the parlour, and Winny, in 
 the midst of the most exciting scenes in the 
 story, had to shut up the book, to take her 
 refreshment, and then to take her candle, and 
 go to bed. Dick sat up with his mother, and 
 read ' Barnaby Rudge ' to the very last minute 
 — nay, he surreptitiously conveyed it upstairs, 
 and read on until his candle went out, and left 
 him in darkness. 
 
 Who shall say that Winny Hesketh had not 
 good reason to regret that she was not born a 
 boy ? She did regret it every day that went over 
 her head. Opportunities of comparison never 
 failed her, and to her green experience it seemed 
 immeasurably better to be Dick than Winny. 
 She had no limitations of work to repine at, but 
 she ardently coveted the privileges of boys at 
 play. After school Dick might idle at his 
 pleasure out of doors, but Winny must come in, 
 and sit at her seam in the dull parlour behind 
 the shop. Dick was not afraid of a mouse ; he 
 could play cricket, trap-and-ball, and hare and 
 hounds on half-holidays ; Dick owned a hum- 
 ming-top, a double-bladed knife, a kite of pro-
 
 2 2 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 diglous soaring power, and a fluctuating treasure 
 in marbles ; while Winny owned nothing but a 
 small rosewood work-box, neatly lined with blue, 
 a ball for ball-play, worn in her pocket, and 
 annually renewed at Whitsuntide Fair, a black 
 lead pencil, and an old doll that she had never 
 profoundly loved. She had lately taken to 
 drawing caricatures of Miss Theresa, and a 
 very pernicious trait it was reckoned, that she 
 made fun of her doll. Winny was not commonly 
 accounted a good little girl. She was continu- 
 ally wanting to do something she ought not, 
 and being as continually thwarted, repressed, 
 and admonished, she not seldom turned restive, 
 perverse, and defiant. What child has a chance 
 against her elders in such naughty tempers ? 
 what chance ought she to have ? Discipline 
 must be maintained, and little naughty girls 
 have to bear the yoke, let them fret and chafe 
 ever so. And, no doubt, it is good that they 
 should bear it. 
 
 Mrs Hesketh did not know that she was 
 partial, but Dick got many a reprieve and 
 indulgence that Winny pleaded for in vain.
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH S CHILDREN. 23 
 
 How could it be otherwise ? What was fit 
 liberty for a boy would have been letting a girl 
 run wild — which was not to be thought of on 
 Castle Green. Winny might indulge in marbles 
 when she was at a loss for a pastime, but then 
 she had commonly to make her game alone 
 on the faded pattern of the parlour carpet ; for 
 Dick condescended to her company only on 
 wet days or when he had none other. And 
 she preferred ball when she had the room to 
 herself to be noisy in. 
 
 The widow's son was a dark-skinned, dark- 
 eyed lad, with small features, and a small head 
 adorned with wavy soft hair. Winny was dark- 
 eyed too, but fairer in the face. Both the 
 children had fine health, and while they were 
 young they gave their mother no anxiety. She 
 enjoyed a few tranquil, reposeful years after her 
 husband's death. Her business, once set well 
 agoing, marched forward with equal success, 
 and she could even anticipate a period when, 
 her children's education and putting out in the 
 world being provided for, she might lay up a 
 fund against the decline of her own days. She
 
 24 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 had no succour either moral or material from 
 her kindred. They looked down on the obscure 
 endeavours of the widow with a distant, silent 
 approval, volunteering no advice, lest they 
 should Incur, perhaps, an appeal for help. 
 Three only of Mrs Hesketh's sisters were now 
 living : Jane, the wife of Mr Joseph Stansfield, 
 a wealthy clothier at Leeds ; Elizabeth, the 
 wife of Mr Thomas Clarkson, a West India 
 broker, resident at Bristol ; and Hester, the 
 wife of Mr Robert Rutherford, a Russia mer- 
 chant established at Hull. They kept up an 
 intermittent correspondence by letter with 
 * Poor Anna,' and would all have met her as 
 affectionate sisters had the course of circum- 
 stances brought them together ; but circum- 
 stances seem to have a way of combining for 
 the purpose of keeping such relations apart, 
 and their aunts and cousins on their mother s 
 side were no more yet than names to the 
 young Heskeths. 
 
 The person from whom they derived their 
 notions of real kindred was their Aunt Agnes 
 in London. Aunt Agnes had announced to
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH's CHILDREN. 25 
 
 the widow that she would never forget her 
 brother George's children ; and as long as they 
 were children a parcel from town, containing 
 something useful towards their clothing, and 
 something pretty to please them, never failed 
 to make Its appearance at the house on Castle 
 Green soon after New Year's Day. Mrs 
 Hesketh as regularly forestalled its arrival by 
 the despatch of a Christmas hamper of poultry 
 and game, with RIbston pippins and Cotham 
 cakes to stuff the corners ; for Aunt Agnes also 
 had children to be gratified In their sweet tooth. 
 The widow sent her hamper as a set-off against 
 the parcel. A leaven of pride raised her Inde- 
 pendence of spirit. The sisters-in-law had never 
 been cordial friends. Aunt A^nes had made 
 no secret of her opinion that her brother had 
 married beneath him, and the widow resented 
 her contempt with equal scorn ; but for the 
 children's sake, and because their father had 
 desired It, the courtesies of kindred were 
 strictly observed. Aunt Agnes was married to 
 Mr Moses Hayland, a former clerk of Hesketh 
 and Co. — a pious good man who made It a duty
 
 26 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 to assist his poor relations — and such men 
 always have many. But for the systematic 
 charitableness of his principles it is not certain 
 that his wife's kindness of heart would have 
 kept warm so long ; the widow Hesketh, how- 
 ever, gave her sister-in-law the full credit of 
 her liberality, and the children were brought 
 up to regard their aunt in London as the 
 richest and best friend of all who belonged to 
 them. And such, substantially, she was.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH*S NOTIONS. 
 
 Dick and Winny had much debated, much 
 speculated what the next New Year's parcel 
 would bring them from Aunt Agnes. It did 
 not arrive until the tenth of January. After 
 dark it arrived, after the shop was shut, and 
 when the door-bell rang the children cried out 
 simultaneously : * The parcel from Aunt Agnes, 
 mother ! ' 
 
 Mrs Hesketh looked up from her knitting, 
 and Susan entered wearing a broad grin of 
 sympathy, the big brown paper parcel sup- 
 ported in her two arms, and dangling in one 
 hand the carrier's way-bill to sign. Mrs 
 Hesketh signed the sheet, and the parcel 
 being deposited on the table, she proceeded 
 to unloose the many-knotted, thick string — 
 which Dick, like a careful good boy, wound
 
 2 8 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 into a hank to serve again — and to unfold the 
 numerous lasers of paper that enveloped it. 
 First came out a handsome desk of mahogany 
 with brass lock, corners and name-plate. 
 * That's for Dick/ said Winny — and for Dick 
 it was. Then a gay volume in embossed 
 leather binding, with gilt edges and a frontis- 
 piece representing a young lady in distress 
 bidding farewell to her pet pony — this was for 
 Winny — ' Decision — A Moral Tale/ by Mrs 
 Hofland. Then a sable muff of the diminutive 
 size beginning to supersede the large comforts 
 of the elder generation — the widow smiled as 
 she turned it round on one hand, and said 
 that it was more suitable for Aunt Agnes than 
 for herself. The next revelation was a piece of 
 silk, of a pretty lead colour, very soft, and 
 figured all over in a minute leaf-pattern. At 
 sight of this the widow coloured and looked 
 quite vexed — it was a dress for Winny. * Very 
 unfit for her/ said her mother; but Winny's 
 eyes shone with admiration. And that was 
 all. 
 
 Dick, assuming the proud air of property,
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH S NOTIONS. 29 
 
 devoted himself for the remainder of the even- 
 ing to the investigation, the arrangement and 
 re-arrangement of the contents of his grand 
 new desk — there was paper in it of all sizes, a 
 seal, sealing-wax, and a secret-drawer. Dick 
 was superlatively happy. Not so poor Winny. 
 She had understood from her mother's face 
 as she refolded the beautiful piece of silk, that 
 it was not to be for her adornment. The thino- 
 had occurred before. Aunt Agnes had sent 
 for her last Christmas an elegant Swiss muslin, 
 tucked and embroidered, and a draper who 
 respected Mrs Hesketh had kindly taken it 
 off her hands in exchange for a neat sprigged 
 woollen fabric that would wear for summer 
 Sundays one year, and then wash and wear 
 again at school. Winny foresaw that the act 
 of barter was to be repeated, and though she 
 was pleased with her new book, she found it 
 impossible to disengage her mind entirely from 
 the fleeting vision of her silk attire. She re- 
 treated to the rocking-chair, and bent her head 
 over the moral page, but neither from Dick 
 nor from her mother was the state of her feel-
 
 30 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD'. 
 
 ings hidden. A hand went up to her cheeks 
 so often that Dick knew she was winking and 
 wiping away furtive tears, and being in a first- 
 rate humour over his own acquisition he dropt 
 * The Pasha of many Tales ' into her lap, whis- 
 pering that he should not want it any more 
 to-night. Winny sighed, but her eyes cleared ; 
 she laid down her new book, and took up the 
 old volume from the circulating library, and 
 would probably have found in it successful 
 diversion for her pathetic thoughts had not her 
 mother reflected that the occasion ought to be 
 improved. She was an excellent mother, and 
 exacted perfect obedience from Winny, but she 
 was never above rendering her a reason for it, 
 when Winny came to the age of reason. Her 
 voice was grave, her manner was cold, but 
 she loved her children with a most complete 
 devotion. 
 
 * It is very silly to cry, Winny,' she said 
 remonstrating, 'Your Aunt Agnes does not 
 consider that what it may be proper for your 
 Cousin Lucy and your Cousin Ellen to wear 
 must be altogether out of character for you.
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH'S NOTIONS. 3 I 
 
 That silk is worth six shillings a yard at least — 
 Mrs Mason herself could not wish for a better. 
 I should not like to see you walking to church 
 in it.' 
 
 * Not to buy it, mother, but when Aunt 
 Agnes gives it ? ' said Winny with a quiver in 
 her voice. 
 
 ' That would make no difference in appear- 
 ance — you would be dressed above your station. 
 And even if silk were not beyond my means, 
 that silk would be very unbecoming for a little 
 girl of twelve years old — it is too rich and 
 sober. I might wear it myself, so far as age 
 goes.* 
 
 * Then do wear it, mother, I don't care,' said 
 Winny resignedly. ' Only don't let Mr Rad- 
 stock have it ' 
 
 * Mr Radstock would give me its full value 
 in more useful things. I shall never wear 
 colours again, Winny. But if you would like 
 to have it laid by until you are older, it shall go 
 into the great yellow chest' 
 
 This proposal chimed in with Winny's senti- 
 ments. 'Then come upstairs with me, and
 
 32 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 we will put it away at once,' said the widow, 
 and Winny rose with alacrity. She always 
 enjoyed an excursion into the great yellow 
 chest. It was full of her mother's maiden- 
 history, and of tales of her better days, all told 
 in clothes that had been put off while still 
 unworn, and laid by with the thrifty reflection 
 that they might come in some day for Winny, 
 if she lived. 
 
 The moment the lid was lifted a smell of dry 
 fustiness and lavender assailed the senses — the 
 contents did not often taste the air. The chest 
 had two divisions. Into one of them — amongst 
 ancient needle-work and materials therefor — 
 Winny was permitted to dive herself, but the 
 other division was sacred. In its depths re- 
 posed her mother's best wedding-dresses — even 
 the very dress she was married in — and her 
 babies' fine linen and worked frocks. Winny 
 put up a petition that these interesting relics 
 might be shown to her now. The widow 
 Hesketh was never reluctant to indulge such 
 memories as they evoked, and one thin parcel 
 after another was taken up, opened, and
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH S NOTIONS. 33 
 
 talked over in a slow, musing tone. Now and 
 then Winny looked in her mother's face, and 
 asked a pertinent question. Ideas begin to 
 germinate in shrewd brains of twelve, and 
 Winny was observant and critical enough to see 
 that ^he had been much more daintily clothed 
 when she was a little baby than ever she was 
 now. 
 
 * Were you once as well off as Aunt Agnes, 
 mother ? ' was her leading query to-night. 
 
 * Yes. I did not know what debt and diffi- 
 culty were before I was married. There was not 
 much comfort after — your father was embar- 
 rassed for money when we came to Cotham, and 
 though we kept up appearances for a few years, 
 it was a struggle. You remember your father, 
 Winny?' 
 
 *I remember taking the pips out of the 
 apple-cores when you were making pies — he 
 liked the pips, and always gave me sixpence. 
 And I remember when he brought the Noah's 
 Ark from Rotterdam for Dick and me.' 
 
 * Your father always brought home expensive 
 
 presents, and very useless often. Here is one — a 
 VOL. L c
 
 34 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 piece of satin from Edinburgh, the Stuart tartan, 
 so stout It would stand of itself. It was thought- 
 less of him, because we were In mourning at the 
 time for your grandfather and grandmother Hes- 
 keth, who died within a month of each other.* 
 
 * Did I ever see either of them, mother ?' ^ 
 
 ^ Old Mr Hesketh was at Gotham twice — a 
 most gentlemanly old man, in knee-breeches 
 and black gaiters — but you are not likely to 
 recollect him. Your grandmother I never saw 
 after I was married. I went to London once 
 before to make their acquaintance, and stayed 
 at the house of business in Bread Street, and at 
 their country-house at Stoke Newlngton. It 
 was when peaches and nectarines are ripe, — and 
 your Aunt Agnes came from school to see me.' 
 
 * Was she nice, mother ? She must have been 
 nice, I think.' 
 
 ' Agnes was a pretty girl, and very fond of 
 her brother George. She was accomplished, 
 and played well on the piano, and there were 
 flower-pieces of her painting hung up In the 
 bedrooms.* 
 
 ' I wish she would come and see us at Gotham,
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH'S NOTIONS. 35 
 
 mother,' said Winny, and she said it very wish- 
 fully. 
 
 The widow Hesketh paused in the act of 
 unfolding a dress of dove-coloured poplin that 
 had a multiplicity of rows of satin ribbon for 
 trimming round the scanty skirt. Her thoughts 
 paused, too, upon that suggestion dropt by her 
 little girl. She was lost in reflection for several 
 minutes, and Winny perceived that she had 
 arrested her mother's attention ; nevertheless 
 when she spoke again it was only to say : ' This 
 dress must be turned to account for you next 
 summer, Winny, or there will not be enough of 
 the material to make you one — skirts are worn 
 wider every year. When you have finished 
 stitching Dick's collars and wristbands you 
 might as well begin to pick it in pieces to be 
 ready.' 
 
 * I like it better than the silk Aunt Agnes 
 has sent — I like the colour,' said Winny 
 much gratified. * And that is your wedding- 
 dress and pelisse, mother ? ' as another parcel, 
 most carefully enveloped, was lifted out of 
 the deep chest.
 
 36 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 * Yes, Winny.' There was something very 
 delicate and attractive in the silvery silk folds 
 that Mrs Hesketh only half opened. A dress 
 of those days went into small compass. Winny 
 did not ask for more than a peep. She knew 
 the straight skirt of the pelisse, lined with white 
 silk, and the under skirt, garnished with three 
 narrow flounces of filmy mechlln lace, the 
 short waist and tight sleeves, the exact pipings 
 and leaf trimming that must have been such a 
 labour of time to make. There was another 
 parcel within the outer cover of the widow's 
 wedding-dress, containing three cashmere waist- 
 coats, a faded white one, and a buff and canary, 
 which had kept their colour; between them 
 there were a pair of gloves, and a russia-leather 
 pocket-book that scented the whole collection. 
 Winny and her mother contemplated these 
 things in silence. When they were put out 
 of sight again, and the chest was being restored 
 to darkness and the moth, the widow Hesketh 
 opened her mouth, and spoke with calm, delibe- 
 rate conviction. 
 
 * Your father was mercifully taken from
 
 THE WIDOW HESKETH S NOTIONS. 37 
 
 trouble to come. I don't know what would 
 have become of us all had he lived ; for he 
 could not bear hardship or contradiction — I 
 am afraid Dick takes after him. He was like 
 your grandmother, who used to sit all day with 
 her hands folded — beautiful little hands she 
 had, and so had your father.' Winny extended 
 her own two members, to see if they had 
 the paternal features — they were little, but 
 nervous and capable. Her mother observed 
 the action, and added for comment on it : 'I 
 trust you have grit in your character, Winny, 
 though you are a Hesketh.' 
 
 * I'm sure I trust so too ! ' cried Winny de- 
 voutly. ' I would not be soft for anything ! * 
 
 ' I shall not bring you up to softness and 
 idleness, you may depend upon that. You 
 must learn to work for your bread, and then, 
 whatever happens, you will be able to take 
 care of yourself If you are wise, you will 
 never marry.' 
 
 * O mother ! then I should never have any 
 children ! ' remonstrated Winny, alarmed, 
 astonished.
 
 30 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 ' Children are a constant trouble and an- 
 xiety/ 
 
 ' Dick and me, mother ?' said Winny with an 
 odd, wistful look. 
 
 ' Yes, Winny, even Dick and you. There 
 is no telling how you may turn out.' 
 
 Winny heaved a prodigious sigh, which woke 
 all the echoes of the old attic where the great 
 yellow chest lived amidst bales of lasting and 
 rolls of leather. It startled even herself, and 
 her mother with grave admonition said : * You 
 have nothing to sigh for yet, Winny — you had 
 better save your sighs and your tears against 
 the days when they will be really needed. It 
 is much if you are ever as happy after you 
 grow up as you are now while you are a child.' 
 
 Winny waxed rather red about the upper 
 part of the cheeks, and her dark eyes glittered, 
 but no drops fell, and she offered no rejoinder 
 to these discouraging previsions of her mother. 
 They returned to the parlour, where Dick was 
 still jubilant and busy over his desk, and the 
 children's supper waited on the round table.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 
 
 Winny's frankly announced wish that Aunt 
 Agnes would come to Cotham had impressed 
 her mother. She took it into serious con- 
 sideration. Perhaps it was her duty, and 
 might be for their good that she should ask Aunt 
 Agnes to become acquainted with her brother's 
 children, and to consult with her respecting 
 their furnishing and putting out in life. The 
 time was at hand when Dick must make up 
 his mind what he was fit for. The widow 
 Hesketh's means would naturally limit his 
 opportunities, but within a certain range she 
 meant to allow him freedom of choice. The 
 result of the prudent mother's reflections was a 
 letter addressed to Aunt Agnes in the month 
 of May, containing an invitation for herself, 
 her husband and her daughter Lucy for
 
 40 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 the month of June, when Mr Andrews would 
 be absent taking his annual holiday, and the 
 drawlne-room and best bedroom would be 
 at liberty. The invitation was not imparted 
 to Dick and Winny until it was accepted, and 
 they received the intelligence with joy. 
 
 Immediately Mr Andrews vacated his rooms 
 preparations for the visitors began. The up- 
 stairs sittinof-room was adorned with fresh muslin 
 curtains, and a new red cover on the table ; 
 and Mrs Mason arranged to let Mrs Hesketh 
 have her second-best piano for Miss Lucy's 
 amusement during the visit. Winny walked 
 two miles into the country with Dick on the 
 morning of the day when they were expected, 
 to get some flowers from Nanny Anson, her 
 nurse that was, and brought home a fine posy 
 of purple stocks, sweet-williams, and southern- 
 wood, which she disposed in a green dish, 
 moulded like a vine-leaf. The best china was 
 brought out from its closet, and dusted for 
 daily use, the best candlesticks, the best every- 
 thing, imposing on the children's minds a high 
 sense of the importance of the occasion.
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 4 1 
 
 Winny's attire had been carefully revised 
 throughout, and she had leave to wear the 
 converted dove-coloured poplin any fine after- 
 noon when she might be required to walk with 
 her Aunt Agnes or her Cousin Lucy. She 
 did not put it on to receive them, for the 
 coach by which they must come did not arrive 
 at Cotham until eight o'clock ; but she put on 
 her next best — that sprigged woollen fabric of 
 which mention has been made before — and felt 
 contented with her neat appearance. Her 
 mother curled her hair, clasped her cornelian 
 necklace, and remarked that she had grown 
 since last summer when her frock was new, 
 and also that it was a pity it had shrunk so 
 much in washing. Winny was unconscious 
 of it, but she had quite out-grown her frock, 
 and presented a very scant and unfashion- 
 able shape to the eye of a critical stranger. 
 
 The large table in the back-parlour was 
 laid for supper, and at half-past seven Dick 
 sped off to the coach-office at the White Hart, 
 to welcome his mxOther's coming guests. The 
 widow Hesketh and her little girl betook
 
 42 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 themselves upstairs to watch from the sitting- 
 room window for their approach. Winny 
 was fond of looking out at this window, which 
 was a low, wide bay, with side-lights, and 
 commanded the whole Green, and a view of 
 the fields across the river. It had a northern 
 aspect, and only caught a ray or two of sun 
 at setting during the summer months. This 
 June evening was delightful after a showery 
 day. Overhead the sky was all flushed with 
 scarlet reflections that warmed into picturesque- 
 ness the tiled, many-gabled old houses both 
 within and without. Winny, turning for a 
 moment to look behind her into the room, saw 
 it transfigured by the soft moted light. 
 
 ' I hope Aunt Agnes will not be disap- 
 pointed ! ' she exclaimed. 
 
 The widow continued to gaze into the 
 primrose distances beyond the river. 'Your 
 Aunt Agnes knows what to expect,' said she 
 calmly : and the next minute, * Here they 
 come ! * 
 
 Winny's most attentive observation immedi- 
 ately reverted to the Green. Yes, here they
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 43 
 
 came. The ostler from the White Hart 
 wheeled their luggage in a barrow, conversing, 
 meanwhile, with a red-faced, white-whiskered, 
 elderly gentleman clothed in black, who carried 
 an umbrella, a walking-stick and a pottle of straw- 
 berries. He seemed to have legs unwarrantably 
 short for his length of body, and from his gait 
 might be, perhaps, web-footed. Twenty paces 
 after followed Dick, chatting affably with Aunt 
 Agnes, but forgetting to relieve her of an extra 
 shawl. She was slim and slight, and both 
 she and Lucy stepped wearily. The journey 
 had, indeed, been long. The widow Hesketh 
 went downstairs to meet her guests at the 
 door ; Winny lingered and listened on the 
 landing above. 
 
 The greeting sounded warm and genial, 
 and there was one hearty kiss, at least. The 
 voices of the strangers were all pleasant, and 
 there was some little laughing about Dick's 
 recognition of them. It seemed that as the 
 coach drove up to the White Hart, he had 
 hailed them from the stable-door with a wild 
 'Halloo!' 'Just like poor George when he
 
 44 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 was a boy — always full of fun and spirits/ 
 Aunt Agnes remarked, and it was clear that 
 Dick had leapt, at once, into her favour. 
 
 ' And this is Winny,' she said, as she toiled 
 upstairs, and was confronted by the little 
 girl. 
 
 Winny dropt a quiet * Yes,' with a smile 
 and a suspicion of a blush. Her Aunt Agnes 
 kissed her, and walked forward into the sitting 
 room : * What a pretty evening room,' she said, 
 and stood gazing about. The sunset glow 
 had not yet faded from it, and the first im- 
 pression was very comfortable. Lucy entered 
 — a gentle, long-featured little girl — to whom 
 her father said as he followed her in : * Lucy, 
 my dear child, you are tired — the sooner you 
 can go to bed the better. Aunt Hesketh will 
 excuse you to-night — a biscuit and a glass of 
 sherry, Anna, if you please, and Lucy shall 
 go to bed.' Winny, at a glance from her 
 mother, ran down to the parlour, and brought 
 up biscuits and wine. As she set the tray on 
 the table Mr Hayland took notice of her, patted 
 her crown, and bestowed upon her one of
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 45 
 
 his sonorous kisses. Though his face was all 
 over red, It was the agreeable redness of sun- 
 burn on an originally fair skin, and Winny 
 approved of it — his eyes were blue, and his 
 hair and whiskers white as silver. 
 
 Mr and Mrs Hayland and their daughter 
 Lucy had come to Gotham to spend three 
 weeks. A great deal can be said and done in 
 three weeks. There were many long and 
 interesting evening conversations between the 
 widow Hesketh and Aunt Agnes — long re- 
 citals of events past recal, of losses, distresses, 
 mortifications, cruel anxieties and embarrass- 
 ments which the widow always dismissed with 
 a sigh, and the conclusion that as they were 
 over, it was useless to talk about them any 
 more. But Aunt Agnes wanted to hear. 
 Winny was often present and heard too — 
 heard many things that caused her to reflect. 
 Lucy had brought from town her drawing- 
 board, and had set up her easel in the bay- 
 window to copy in black and white chalk a 
 classic head of Minerva. Winny liked to sit
 
 4-6 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 by, and witness her operations, herself stitching, 
 meanwhile, at Dick's everlasting wants in the 
 way of wristbands. Her mother and Aunt 
 Agnes, side by side upon the sofa against the 
 wall, talked in bated voices. One evening 
 WInny laid this to heart — her mother was 
 speaking : — 
 
 ' I met with much kindness after poor George 
 was taken away — kindness where I had no right 
 to look for so much as conslderateness. Mr 
 Turner sent me his bill receipted — of course, 
 I paid the amount later — and Hurds and 
 Watsons did not send theirs until I wrote for 
 it. Not one house to which money was owing 
 pressed for it. Our old customers continued 
 their support, and the business has been ex- 
 cellent. God has been very good to us. We 
 have wanted for nothing.' 
 
 * You have done wonderfully, Anna,' was 
 the response of Aunt Agnes. ' My brother 
 George was allowed to become his own master 
 too early — that was the mischief. He was 
 thrown into gay company before he had the 
 strength to resist its temptations. He did
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 47 
 
 many foolish things from inexperience, but a 
 warmer heart never beat. He was nobody's 
 enemy but his own, and his friends were 
 naturally disposed to be kind to you for his 
 sake and his children's. — And this house is 
 your property ? , You have been able to pur- 
 chase the freehold ? ' 
 
 * Yes. It was to be sold, and unless I had 
 bought it, I must have left it, which would, per- 
 haps, have injured the business. Mr Andrews 
 advanced me part of the purchase-money for 
 one year.' 
 
 ' You have fallen in with generous helpers, 
 Anna.' 
 
 * I have everything to be thankful for. If 
 the children turn out well, I shall be satisfied.' 
 
 ' Dick Is a dear little fellow. Winny is at an 
 awkward age. Is she clever at all ? — she seems 
 given to wool-gathering.' 
 
 ' Dick has one fault — he is idle,' said his 
 mother. * Winny is self-willed, but Mrs Mason 
 gives a good account of her capacity.' 
 
 The widow Hesketh never fondled or flattered 
 her children ; she spoke of them as dispassion-
 
 48 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 ately as if they did not belong to her. Aunt 
 Agnes was silent for a minute or two, and her 
 eyes dwelt contemplatively on Winny, always 
 attired in her unbecoming frock, her thin neck 
 and arms uncovered, as little girls went at that 
 period, and her brown hair combed behind her 
 ears in short curls. To her Aunt Agnes she 
 was not attractive. She had a shy, eager way 
 with her — she watched and listened, and seemed 
 to take in everything, and make silent notes 
 upon it. She had attached herself to her Cousin 
 Lucy, whose skill on the piano and with her 
 pencil she exceedingly admired. Winny could 
 use a pencil herself, but it was in an untaught 
 way, and her sketches from nature leant to 
 caricature. Mrs Mason's programme of educa- 
 tion did not necessarily include accomplish- 
 ments, and Winny Hesketh had been sent to 
 her to acquire what was called at that date, a 
 solid foundation — to wit, reading, writing, arith- 
 metic, geography, English grammar, and his- 
 tory ; but proving a child easy to teach and 
 willing to learn, her mother had, at Mrs 
 Mason's request, added to her school-books
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 49 
 
 during the last twelve months, Goldsmith's 
 " Greece and Rome," and Blair's '' Universal 
 Preceptor ; or General Grammar of Arts, 
 Sciences, and Useful Knowledge;" by which 
 means Winny was acquiring (metaphorically) 
 an early tinge of blue in her stockings. Also 
 she had lessons from the French master. 
 
 ' It will be easy enough to dispose of Dick,' 
 Aunt Agnes re-commenced. ' His uncle must 
 talk to him. But what can be done with a girl 
 like Winny by way of making her indepen- 
 dent, I don't know.' 
 
 ' Mrs Mason suggests to me to make a teacher 
 of her — to train her up for the purpose.' 
 
 * Poor Winny, what a dreadful prospect ! 
 O Anna, much better save the money you 
 would spend on her education to give her when 
 she marries,' Aunt Agnes cried with an energy 
 of opinion that she seldom evinced. 
 
 The widow Hesketh did not move a muscle. 
 * If men were always what they ought to be I 
 should not discourage a girl from looking for- 
 ward to marriage as a provision ; but marriage 
 is such a lottery that if Winny has the power 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 to help and maintain herself, I should never 
 advise her to risk it.' 
 
 Aunt Agnes wondered greatly at these senti- 
 ments of her sister-in-law, and she did not give 
 in to them. * If we could foresee and forestall 
 every accident of life, Anna, there would be no 
 need of the providence of God,' said she with 
 grave insistance. 
 
 The widow Hesketh rejoined with as con- 
 vinced a mind : * A little money soon runs 
 away, but if Winny gets her modest fortune In 
 the shape of an available education nothing can 
 rob her of it.' 
 
 Aunt Agnes knew how soon her sister-in- 
 law's little money had run away, but she knew 
 also that it was not her much learning that, had 
 lifted her out of her difficulties ; for the widow's 
 orthography was very Imperfect, and though by 
 dint of native shrewdness, industry, and pru- 
 dence she could earn an income, and live well 
 within it, the higher rules of arithmetic were an 
 unknown region to her. She did not argue the 
 matter of Winny's education any further then, 
 for she caught the child's Intent eyes upon them.
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 5 1 
 
 and judged It discreet to forbear, but she re- 
 newed it later, in Winny's absence. The widow 
 Hesketh only assured her again that she was 
 firmly purposed to make her little girl self-help- 
 ful, so that to be married might never present 
 itself to her as the sole way out of a dilemma. 
 The widow had no covert meaning in this 
 allusion, but Aunt Agnes coloured as if she was 
 struck home — and indeed, her own marriage 
 had been one of expedience. 
 
 Mrs Hesketh continued : ' Until Mrs Mason 
 praised Winny's readiness at learning I had 
 thoughts of bringing her up as a milliner — she 
 has the requisite taste and neatness, — but she 
 does not love her needle.' 
 
 * Oh, no ! Pray, don't let us have another 
 milliner in the family,' Aunt Agnes replied 
 testily. ' Let her be a teacher — if she must be 
 anything.' And Winny's destiny was hence- 
 forth treated of as settled. Dick's was next to 
 be considered. 
 
 Mr Hayland did not share his wife's partiality 
 for Dick. * I wish WInny were the boy — there is 
 twice the stuff in her that there is in Dick/ he 
 
 UBRAfTf 
 
 UNlVERSmr OF «lli»«^
 
 52 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 said to her. * Dick will never work more than 
 he can help, and his first and last thought is to 
 please himself.' 
 
 Aunt Agnes looked annoyed : * I was hoping 
 that you might take him into the office, and that 
 he might even live with us at home,' she said. 
 
 * That is a step that requires deliberation — 
 great deliberation. Dick has caught your 
 fancy.' 
 
 ' He reminds me of my brother George — and 
 it would be a substantial help to Anna, who 
 really deserves it,' urged Aunt Agnes. 
 
 * It would be the making of the boy if there 
 were any pith in him — but I doubt. One thing 
 must be clearly understood — if Dick Hesketh 
 comes into Bread Street, he must come pre- 
 pared to conform to the rules of the house, 
 and to take no liberties.' 
 
 * Certainly not — he would meet with no en- 
 couragement from me. I may mention it to 
 Anna ? ' 
 
 Mr Hay land assented, only adding that Dick 
 must remain two years longer at the Grammar 
 School; for a liberal education was likely to be
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 53 
 
 more and more to a man's advantage in an age 
 of progress — and to a woman's also. 
 
 ' Then you don't think that Anna will be doing 
 foolishly in giving Winny a superior education ?' 
 his wife asked. * I confess that I would rather 
 keep the money in hand myself, and keep her 
 at home in a useful capacity — such a plain little 
 girl as she is too.' 
 
 ' She will improve. Anna knows what she 
 is about — Winny is very fond of a book.' 
 
 'Very fond of a story-book, of novels and 
 plays and poetry. Anna does not take sufficient 
 care what she reads — I suppose she has not 
 time. Winny had her head buried in Shak- 
 speare's play of " King Lear" this morning until 
 the last minute before prayers. And on Sunday 
 afternoon, when I thought she was studying a 
 good book it was a little old brown volume of 
 the "Spectator" she had got hold of Her 
 mother allows her the run of poor George's 
 books, and there are some of them not at all 
 nice books for a girl.' 
 
 * You must not furnish the child with a 
 mature comprehension ; she will find no harm
 
 54 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 in them. She has a great number of fine pieces 
 by heart which she says she learns while she is 
 at stitch work. Let her alone. Her father's 
 books are a standard collection — I was think- 
 ing this morning how and when he could 
 have made it.' 
 
 Aunt Agnes was silent. There had been a 
 time, perhaps, when great things were hoped 
 of her brother George — when, perhaps, he had 
 hoped great things of himself. To this day his 
 sister believed that if he had married in his own 
 rank, instead of marrying the clever, handsome 
 Hulton milliner who had brought him only a 
 thousand pound fortune and her severe prin- 
 ciples, he would have held up his head and 
 flourished. It is needless to say that Mr 
 Hayland did not share his wife's faith. All his 
 respect was for the widow whom he was ever 
 ready to befriend and help, and who did such 
 credit to her helpers. 
 
 The grand proposal, as Aunt Agnes meant 
 It, for Dick's adoption into the house of Hayland 
 & Co., did not, however, win Mrs Hesketh's 
 immediate approval and acceptance. She even
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 55 
 
 went so far as to state to Mr Hay land confiden- 
 tially that she did not consider that Dick had 
 a talent for business, any more than his father 
 had. Something in the light artistic line, com- 
 patible with frequent intervals of leisure, would 
 be more in his way. Mr Hay land hardly knew 
 how to answer her, though her judgment of her 
 son agreed with his own. He said that Dick 
 must try to overcome his natural indolence, and 
 acquire habits of application ; and he undertook 
 to give Dick a lecture on the moral elements 
 of success in life. Dick listened languidly until 
 mention was made of London, and then he 
 brightened up, and was willing to promise any- 
 thing and everything that was desirable. For 
 that day he became a most obliging boy. He 
 escorted Aunt Agnes and Lucy to the ' Retreat' 
 as a delightful walk. Aunt Agnes expected 
 some sort of beautiful, bowery wood or garden, 
 but when they came to the locked gates and 
 high walls, and she heard that it was an asylum 
 for mad quakers, she almost ran home again, 
 scolding him all the way, and making no allow- 
 ance for his good intentions. It was for long
 
 56 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 after a joke with Lucy against her Cousin Dick 
 that he had taken her mamma, the timidest of 
 women, to a lunatic asylum by way of amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 It is probable that Aunt Agnes found the 
 entertainment provided for her in the house of 
 her sister-in-law dull. Winny made one little 
 effort on her behalf, but Winny was not a 
 favourite, and it was scarcely more successful 
 than Dick's. The child was not blind to the 
 fact that except Mrs Mason, who was absent 
 at the sea-side, they had no friend in Cotham 
 whose acquaintance was likely to be courted by 
 the great. But a mile and a half out of the 
 town, at Holworth Grange, there lived a family 
 consisting of Mr and Mrs Knox and Mrs 
 Fleetwood who had a beautiful garden with 
 roses and tall lilies and fruit in its season, and 
 prim parlours with oval framed portraits on the 
 walls, where the ladies of the house appeared 
 to preside permanently in silk mittens. This 
 residence was the occasional limit of a summer 
 Sunday evening walk, and once a year, in the
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 57 
 
 time of ripe gooseberries and currants, the 
 widow Hesketh and her children were formally 
 invited to drink tea there, and sent home with 
 nosegays. This annual visit was almost as 
 notable an event for the children as the arrival 
 of the New Year's parcel from London, but 
 Winny had a feeling that her mother made it, 
 not because she enjoyed it herself, but because 
 it was such a treat to Dick and her. Dick was 
 famous at the gooseberries. 
 
 It happened one morning that Winny, sent 
 out on an errand to Miss Baxter s shop (It was 
 a chemist's shop which had also a licence to 
 sell tea) met Mr Knox, a man of singularly 
 unprosperous aspect, considering that he was 
 the man of the house at Holworth Granpfe. 
 He greeted Winny as ' Little Miss,' asked 
 how her mother did, and mentioned that the 
 currants were coming on finely. 
 
 ' Aunt Agnes is staying with us — she is so 
 fond of a garden — and Uncle Hay land and 
 Cousin Lucy,* Winny announced, and then she 
 blushed, and felt shy lest Mr Knox should 
 discern the desire of her heart that the invitation
 
 58 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 to Hol worth Grange might come soon, and 
 include her mother's guests. 
 
 * We'll see,' said the gentleman nodding, 
 shaking hands and walking off, all at the same 
 time — and it was clear to Winny that he had 
 found her out. She was divided between a 
 sense of shame at having, as it were, asked for 
 the invitation, and a sense of expectation that 
 it might come. And it did come the very next 
 day, brought by Mr Knox himself, and they 
 were to go in the afternoon. 
 
 The weather was perfect, absolutely perfect, 
 and Aunt Agnes donned her silk attire without 
 one qualm. Lucy was neat In muslin, and 
 Winny put on her poplin frock, white tippet 
 and straw bonnet trimmed with straw-coloured 
 ribbon, which was her Sunday suit. 
 
 * Won't the child be very hot in that thick 
 poplin frock ? ' Aunt Agnes remarked, eyeing 
 her disapprovingly when they were assembled 
 to start. 
 
 Winny's quick blood was In her cheeks at 
 once, and she glanced at her mother who said 
 with the utmost serenity : * She has no other,
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 59 
 
 unless she choose to put on a clean print — that 
 would be cooler. Would you like to change 
 your frock, Winny ? We will be sauntering 
 on — you will soon overtake us.' The little 
 girl answered with a gesture of silent assent, 
 and turned back to go upstairs. 
 
 The rest all set out, and Winny stayed 
 behind. Susan came to help her, but the 
 alteration in her dress was not effected without 
 a few very salt tears. She was, indeed, cruelly 
 dismayed by Aunt Agnes's cold, critical regards. 
 It was a miserable moment for the child. She 
 did not accuse her aunt of being unkind, but 
 she accused herself of being ugly, ungainly, and 
 ill-dressed, and was humiliated beyond words 
 to tell. ' Don't fret, dear, or you'll make your 
 eyes smart,' said the servant soothingly ; and 
 Winny repressed the swelling in her throat, and 
 wiped the scalding drops from her cheeks, but 
 she could not get over her feeling of mortifica- 
 tion. When she was ready to start again Susan 
 went to the door with her, and watched her out 
 of sight : ' They've spoilt her pleasure, poor 
 little thing,' said she with tender pity.
 
 60 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 And no doubt Winny*s pleasure was like a 
 peach with the bloom off. The substance was 
 there, but not the beauty. She made no haste 
 to overtake those who had gone on before. 
 Several times her mother looked back, and 
 when they came to the bridge at the "foot of 
 the Holworth Road, Dick offered to wait for his 
 sister. Winny's countenance cleared when she 
 saw him in the distance, and her spirits revived 
 when he condoled with her on her bother in 
 having to change her frock. She asked him if 
 he thought Aunt Agnes would like this frock. 
 ' I would not care whether she did or not ; 
 you look as nice as any of them,' replied Dick 
 defiantly. 
 
 It was Impossible that Dick's opinion on 
 clothes could be of the same value as the 
 opinion of Aunt Agnes who lived in London, 
 but it was comforting ; and when they reached 
 the gate of Holworth Grange, and Mrs Fleet- 
 wood gave the wistful little girl a kiss, and 
 said : ' Always spick and span, Winny,' 
 and handed her over for the same affec- 
 tionate process to Mrs Knox, her heart
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 6 1 
 
 swelled with grateful appreciation of their 
 benevolence. 
 
 The introduction of Mr and Mrs Hayland 
 and Lucy had been already accomplished, and 
 a procession was formed to the house — Mrs 
 Knox and Aunt Agnes going first, Mrs Fleet- 
 wood and the widow Hesketh next, then 
 the three children, and the two gentlemen last. 
 Mr Knox had on his usual shabby clothing, and 
 humble, dejected manner, but he talked agree- 
 ably, and Mr Hayland turned into the garden 
 with him instead of following the ladies indoors. 
 Dick also stayed out, and went to the goose- 
 berries like an old acquaintance. 
 
 The prim parlour had not deviated from its 
 primness one hair s-breadth since last summer. 
 There were the portraits simpering in crayons, 
 and the flowery devices in tent-stitch on the 
 chairs, and on the tables were books with en- 
 gravings and etchings In them. The elders of 
 the party sat round In formal state, with hands 
 folded in their laps, conversing; and the little 
 girls sat at the open window, Lucy turning over 
 the contents of a red folio which she balanced
 
 62 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 upon the sill, and Winny, who knew the pictures, 
 taking now long looks into the green vistas of 
 the garden, and then observant glances at 
 the solemn conclave dropping, in turn, their 
 measured sentences. 
 
 Winny Hesketh had one of those memories 
 that keep a panoramic record of events. She 
 never forgot how the parlour at Hoi worth 
 Grange looked on this summer afternoon, nor 
 the figures in it. Mrs Knox was a small, 
 plain woman of old-fashioned courtesy, dressed 
 in faded brown silk, with as many pink bows 
 in her cap as the highest fashion in Gotham 
 demanded. Mrs Fleetwood was tall, and of a 
 large and loose rather than stout figure. She 
 moved with an air, and her chintz-patterned 
 cotton gown had a certain grace borrowed 
 from the wearer. She retained still at sixty 
 the handsome features, the fine complexion 
 and the laughing eyes of a beauty, and her 
 voice was delightful. She was Mr Knoxs 
 sister, and Winny had heard of her, as if it 
 were something reprehensible, that she had 
 been upon the stage — had been an actress ;
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 63 
 
 and all at once it flashed into the child's mind 
 that if Aunt Agnes knew, she would be shocked 
 to find herself in such bad company. Aunt 
 Agnes's own appearance was irreproachable, 
 but probably the reflection was forced upon 
 her, as it was upon Winny, that her second- 
 best silk would have been grand enough for 
 this occasion. 
 
 The conversation went far back into the 
 past — as far back as Mrs Hesketh's coming to 
 Cotham on her marriage — and was adorned 
 with sentiments that had all the value of 
 antiquity, and the weight of universal consent. 
 
 Mrs Knox spoke like an oracle : ' There's 
 a many ups and downs in the world, of which 
 it is hard to say that they are this one's fault 
 or that one's fault, and it is no more than 
 Christian, when we are at the top of the wheel, 
 to keep in mind that there may be folks as 
 worthy or worthier under it, and that the next 
 turn may lower ourselves.' 
 
 ' Exactly so. " We know what we are, but 
 we know not v/hat we may be," ' said Mrs Fleet- 
 wood with a nod of intelligence at Winny, who
 
 64 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 nodded back her answer that she knew where 
 that quotation came from. 
 
 * The common-sense of the matter is, that 
 as men sow they reap, particularly in business ; 
 and the belief that success follows on upright 
 dealing need not be shaken,^ said the widow 
 Hesketh with grave decision. Winny won- 
 dered whether Mr Knox who looked so un- 
 lucky had sown tares for seed, or had stood 
 all the morning idle in the market-place, in- 
 stead of sowing at all. 
 
 ' But whether we succeed or fail this we may 
 rely on — there's nothing to gain in this world 
 that's worth doing wrong for. You hear that, 
 children ? ' said Mrs Knox, and a murmur of 
 approval confirmed her words. 
 
 The children heard, but Lucy in turning 
 her head when attention was called, let the 
 folio slip, and several of the loose sheets 
 fluttered out of the window. ' Take care, little 
 girl, those etchings are valuable — Cuitts,' said 
 Mrs Fleetwood rising to the rescue. ' Winny 
 dear, go out quick, and gather them up, or 
 Ruffles win have them.' Ruffles was Mr
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 65 
 
 Knox's dog — a frilly sagacious white poodle, 
 not, however, discriminating in etchings. This 
 incident created a movement and diversion, 
 and after tea everybody went out of doors. 
 
 The garden was in great beauty that beau- 
 tiful evening, or Winny thought so. She 
 glanced many times in Aunt Agnes s face to 
 see how she was impressed. Not profoundly, to 
 judge from her countenance. She knew gayer 
 gardens it might be — yet this was crowded 
 with fragrant flowers — with lilies and roses, 
 sweet-briar and lavender, pinks and carna- 
 tions, stocks and mignonette, verbenas and 
 geraniums. A tall hedge of yew made a back- 
 ground for their splendid colours. Through 
 an arch cut in its green density was the way 
 to the fruit-bushes, whither Lucy had gone with 
 her father. Aunt Agnes would not go; so 
 Mrs Fleetwood stayed with her on the broad 
 gravel path, and Winny made a third. Not 
 for long, however. Aunt Agnes was soon 
 tired of sauntering — also in a shady place 
 where the sun had not drunk up the dew a 
 cluster-rose sprinkled her spotless dress. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 66 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 'It is only water, it will not leave a mark,* 
 said Winny — but it did leave a mark, not only 
 on the silk but in her aunt's memory. And 
 now she would return to the parlour. 
 
 Mrs Fleetwood chatted pleasantly on a va- 
 riety of things, on the news and amusements 
 of the world, and frankly confessed that she 
 envied Mrs Hayland her residence in London. 
 ' The fields are peaceful and rural and all that, 
 and the singing of the little birds is sweet 
 when the leaves are coming out, but give 
 me the life and noises of the town, and the 
 smell of the lamps,' said she. 
 
 Mrs Hayland avowed her preference for 
 the town also, but languidly, and mentioned 
 that the evening was drawing in, and that she 
 hoped the walk home would not be too much 
 for dear Lucy. Winny felt sorry — she could 
 not but see that Aunt Agnes was impatient 
 for the visit to be over ; she slipped off to 
 the garden again, found her mother, and 
 whispered that she thought Aunt Agnes was 
 tired, and wanted to go. Soon after they 
 were on the road back to Cotham ; Dick and
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. (i"] 
 
 WInny between them carrying a basket of 
 fruit, and all the nosegays, that nobody's kid 
 gloves might be spoilt. Winny's were only 
 of thread, and them she put in her pocket. 
 And Aunt Agnes never said that it had been 
 an agreeable visit, or that she had enjoyed it. 
 
 No one told Winny Hesketh that her Aunt 
 Agnes's life was a lingering disappointment, 
 but some such notion did certainly suggest 
 itself to her mind. Aunt Agnes had been very 
 pretty, was still elegant, and still kept up her 
 accomplishments. She had married Mr Hay- 
 land, a man old enough to be her father, at the 
 urgent desire of her family, when the cloud of 
 adversity began to gather over their house. 
 Mr Hayland lived in quite another sphere — 
 amongst the strictly religious, to whom plays, 
 dances, and worldly delights were all tabooed. 
 He was a good man, sincere, but intensely 
 obstinate, and his young wife never had a 
 chance of prevailing against his prejudices — 
 principles, he called them. She succumbed, 
 verbally adopted his opinions, but kept her own
 
 68 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 longings. Winny discerned this somehow, and 
 pitied her aunt — the constant displeasure of a 
 life against the grain was easily comprehensible 
 to her imagination. 
 
 Beyond this unexpressed compassion she 
 had no sympathy with her Aunt Agnes, but 
 Lucy she loved. She never ceased to remem- 
 ber the neat figure of her cousin sitting on the 
 music-stool in the Sunday evening-light, her 
 small hands eliciting sweet sacred chords from 
 Mrs Mason's second-best piano. Lucy impro- 
 vised these chords, her chin in the air, her 
 eyes lifted to the sunset glow upon the dusky 
 wainscot. She did not sing aloud, but Winny 
 gazing in her rapt countenance knew that she 
 was singing holy words in her heart. These 
 were beautiful moments, moments of exceeding 
 comfort to Winny. It was so peaceful alone 
 with Lucy when the rest were at church. It 
 put her into a religious frame of mind, and the 
 things that vexed and wearied her every day 
 were forgotten. The service at St Stephen s 
 was not calculated to awaken a dormant en- 
 thusiasm. Old Mr Musty, the vicar, was so
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 69 
 
 ver}^ old and mumbly that he never broke the 
 wandering current of anybody's thoughts. The 
 bHnd organist who felt every note of his music, 
 drew Winny's soul to the heights with a glori- 
 ous, triumphant psalm sometimes, but in those 
 days emotional pious fiction was almost un- 
 known, and she grew up without suffering any 
 spiritual trials or afflictions, and practically con- 
 scious of only two rules for the conduct of the 
 Christian life — to be good, and trust God. It 
 is not asserted that she kept them — for trust in 
 God there had not come yet any special call to 
 her, and of the goodness of little girls before 
 they are tested there can be no surety. She 
 dearly loved her own way, and she was inat- 
 tentive at church — two patent sins. 
 
 St Stephens had many distractions for the 
 imaginative mind. It was ancient — a church 
 of six centuries, at least, — and within eye-range 
 of the widow Hesketh's pew was an immense 
 table of benefactions to the poor of the parish, 
 which bore frequent readings. Besides the 
 interest that radiated from the doles of the 
 dead there were their monuments, also very
 
 70 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 suggestive, and the windows of the aisles, rich in 
 kaleidoscope perplexity of scripture story, and 
 armorial glazings that had been patched into 
 very enigmas of heraldry. All these aids to 
 reflection Winny Hesketh used in her private 
 musings during the long half-hour of inaudible 
 instruction from the pulpit. And again, when 
 the congregation stood up during the reading 
 of the psalms, her eyes roved, taking note of 
 the queer old folks in the free seats, of the 
 miserable sinners in fashionable clothes, and 
 of here and there a face — faces, beautiful or 
 peculiar, had a fascination for Winny. 
 
 * Winny never looks at her book,' Aunt 
 Agnes remarked. * She might have been in a 
 dream all the time of service.' Nevertheless, 
 when called upon, Winny was found able to 
 repeat the collect and gospel, and she knew 
 what the lessons were about. 
 
 * Winny can learn whatever she gives her 
 mind to,' said her mother. * If she does wrong, 
 it is not for want of knowing what is right' 
 
 * Mr Musty' s retirement would be for the 
 benefit of his congregation. I myself could not
 
 AUNT AGNES AT GOTHAM. 7 I 
 
 gather the pith of his discourse this morning,' 
 said Mr Hayland. 
 
 * It is always the same/ cried Winny irrever- 
 ently. * " My brethren, if you follow the com- 
 mandments of God, it will go well with you In 
 this world, and better in the next ; my fellow- 
 sinners, if you pursue your own devices, it will 
 go hard with you in this world — with regard to 
 the next, far be it from me to limit the divine 
 mercies. I pray that we may all repent in 
 time, and take hold of the great salvation. But 
 if we do not, there is, as Dr Watts assures us, 
 A dreadful hell and everlasting pains, Where 
 sinners must with devils dwell, In darkness, 
 fire, and chains." ' 
 
 * Hold your tongue, Winny ! You are quite 
 profane,' interrupted Aunt Agnes. 
 
 * I am afraid it means that Winny does 
 not believe what Dr Watts says,' remarked 
 Uncle Hayland solemnly. 
 
 There was dead silence in the room, and 
 Lucy was troubled to see that Winny gloomed^ 
 and laughed, betook herself to a secular work for 
 amusement the whole of the afternoon, never
 
 72 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 lifting her head or speaking to anybody again. 
 Lucy was born good ; she had a natural humility 
 — not the least rare of Christian graces. She 
 had no difficulty in thinking of others as better 
 than herself. She had taken to Winny, and 
 even looked up to her. She admired her 
 patience at dull tasks, her courage and cheerful 
 contentment — or what seemed such to her. 
 Lucy was delicate and tender, and it was every- 
 body's duty and delight to make her path 
 smooth and easy, but in Winny's path stones to 
 stumble at, and thorns and briars to catch her, 
 were plentiful. Then Winny's devotion to her 
 little cousin had its influence. In the evening, 
 when they were left alone, Winny put the 
 'Spectator' away, and Lucy drew out those 
 thrills of sacred music that soothed and com- 
 forted her. It was their last evening together 
 at Gotham.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE DRAWIXG-CLASS. 
 
 The Midsummer holidays were nearly over 
 when the widow Hesketh's visitors returned 
 to London. Dick went back to the Grammar 
 School, and Winny went back to Mrs Mason's, 
 preceded by an intimation from her mother 
 that her education was henceforward to be pro- 
 secuted with a view to its being of use to her 
 as a means of livelihood. This made no present 
 difference. Winny went on learning her usual 
 repetitions, reading Goldsmith's Histories, and 
 infusing her memory with the formidable array 
 of facts contained in the Universal Preceptor. 
 She took her music-lessons and her French 
 lessons without much aversion, and as far as 
 sitting next to Mr Hollingshed went, she pro- 
 fited by the instruction which he gave at the 
 school thrice a week in writing and arithmetic ;
 
 74 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 but she had no turn for arithmetic, and when 
 the old master had set her a sum she waited 
 until he was at liberty to help her do it. He 
 always did help her, and perhaps thought her a 
 stupid little girl, though he never told her so ; 
 and when the class stood up to say tables, he 
 as invariably asked her nine times nine, which 
 he must have been aware was the only question 
 she was sure to answer right. 
 
 The following summer Mrs Mason proposed 
 that drawing should be added to the list of her 
 pupil's acquirements, but as there was not time 
 in the regular school-hours an arrangement 
 was entered into for Dick and Winny to go 
 together of an evening to Mr Cave, the Cotham 
 drawing-master, who lived on the Holworth 
 Road. Under Mr Cave the children learnt to 
 make copies in pencil of rustic stiles and hovels, 
 and then of various foliage and picturesque 
 foreign buildings, according to Harding. These 
 lessons, and the walk to and fro to the draw- 
 ing master s house, brought them acquainted 
 with others of his pupils. There was a young 
 Cairns whose mother was a poor person living
 
 THE DRAWING-CLASS. 75 
 
 in Crlcklegate, and a young Stanford, also of 
 humble parentage, whom Mr Cave taught for 
 love of the talent they had. Dick Hesketh 
 could not hold a pencil with either of them — 
 he had no gift at all ; but then the occupation 
 kept him out of mischief during the long light 
 evenings, and her mother could not send Winny 
 to walk so far alone. Winny had a pretty 
 touch, Mr Cave said, but he gave Dick no 
 encouragement — his trees were like birch- 
 brooms. 
 
 When the days grew short in October the 
 drawing-lessons were intermitted, to be resumed 
 when they lengthened again in March. They 
 were continued all through the fine weather, 
 except for a month at midsummer, when Mr 
 Cave went to Normandy on a sketching- tour. 
 Cairns had talked of going with him, but when 
 it came to counting the cost the lad's money 
 fell short. Stanford, however, who had indulged 
 no hope, was surprised with a present from Mr 
 Caleb, an artist of famous repute, a native of 
 Cotham, which enabled him to go. Dick 
 Hesketh was smitten with a wish to be of the
 
 '^^ THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 party, but when he hinted it, the master only 
 said, 'You — if it were your sister, now. But 
 sketching- tours are not for little girls.' Winny 
 looked up from her drawing-board, and blushed, 
 and then looked down again, and went on with 
 her copy, meditating the sad, invincible impedi- 
 ment of sex. 
 
 Cairns, forbidden by fortune to wander far 
 a-field, walked up the windings of the Foss, not 
 a river of celebrated beauty as the Wye is, but 
 with modest charms of its own which the intel- 
 ligent young fellow had shrewd eyes for. He 
 brought back a folio of drawings in water- 
 colours, and Dick Hesketh was invited to 
 escort his sister to Cricklegate that she might 
 see them. Mrs Hesketh demurred, but Winny 
 had an ardent desire to go. They went one 
 delicious July evening. The door of Cairns's 
 home opened direct from the street into the 
 living-room, which was two steps below its 
 level. It was daintily clean, and had abundant 
 light from the broad, lozenge-paned lattice that 
 extended along the whole front of the house. 
 Some fine flowering plants on the sill formed
 
 THE DRAWING-CLASS. 77 
 
 a blind, and under it was a table where 
 Cairns stood to exhibit the results of his walk 
 up the river. Winny cried out in admiration of 
 this sunny bit and that sunny bit — her love was 
 all for sunshine. Unobserved the lad's moth^ 
 had come in, leaving a door open to the garden ; 
 and when the sketches had been passed in 
 review, and Winny turned round, she saw a 
 hard-working woman, from the appearance of 
 her, standing against the hearth, listening with 
 a proud smile on her face. 
 
 ' Take comfort, Ted — you might have gone 
 further and done worse,' said she. * The 
 prettiest picture of all is nearest home — Hol- 
 worth Mill and the weir. The willows and 
 their shadows in the water are to the very 
 life.* 
 
 * Of course, my mother is pleased with my 
 work,' said Cairns looking kindly towards her. 
 Then to Winny : ' Will you step into the gar- 
 den ? — you are fond of a garden, I have heard.' 
 
 The folio was closed, and Dick and Winny 
 walked out into the garden. It was a good 
 space, full of fruit-trees, and extending to what
 
 yS THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 had been once the Castle-wall. The ground 
 rose and fell abruptly, and the further slope was 
 crowded with nut-bushes. 
 
 * This was the moat,' said Cairns, leading 
 l^e way. * Look at that pear-tree,' pointing 
 to an immense, luxuriant pyramid of foliage. 
 ' It may be a hundred years old. It never has 
 any pears on it, but In autumn, when the 
 leaves are dying, it glows like flames.' 
 
 Winny Hesketh gazed about with wistful 
 pleasure and longing, and transferred a per- 
 manent picture of the scene to her memory. 
 Cairns asked If there was no garden behind 
 her house. * Nothing to call a garden,' Winny 
 answered. ' There may have been formerly, 
 but If so, it must have passed into the pos- 
 session of our next-door neighbour long since. 
 We have a wall covered with ivy, and a border 
 under it where we sow mignonette, but it does 
 not thrive — It does not like itself there.' 
 
 * Let me give you some flowers — mother, 
 bring the scissors to cut some flowers, will 
 you ? ' 
 
 Mrs Cairns complied, and cut the flowers
 
 THE DRAWING-CLASS. 79 
 
 herself with more prudence than her boy 
 would have done. Winny Hesketh did not 
 say nay to her bounty, and she carried home 
 as sweet and beautiful a nosegay as the nose- 
 gays from Hoi worth Grange. 
 
 The widow Hesketh made a return on her 
 children's behalf by bidding Dick bring young 
 Cairns to tea some day, and Cairns consenting, 
 they all became friends together. 
 
 The record of incidents befalling thus early 
 in a life may seem trivial, but they have their 
 significance. They go towards the forming of 
 character, and the shaping of destiny. What 
 sounds a mere idle word may have its mission. 
 
 IVIr Cave and young Stanford returned from 
 their tour successfully. Stanford came back 
 rich in sepia studies of architecture, and the 
 next time Dick and Winny Hesketh went to 
 take their drawing-lesson they were treated 
 to a sight of them. Mr Caleb came in that 
 evening, an ugly little man pitted with the 
 small-pox, to whom Mr Cave said, bowing 
 low : ' This is an honour indeed, Mr Caleb.' 
 
 The ugly little man walked from easel to
 
 8o THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 easel, found something kind to say to Cairns, 
 and something very encouraging to add to 
 Stanford, whose sketches from Normandy he 
 examined with critical carefulness. ' If you 
 live, Sir, and work — work. Sir, mind — you will 
 be second to no man in this branch of art,' he 
 said emphatically, clapping against the wall 
 the powerful, rough sketch that had elicited 
 the prediction. 
 
 Everybody looked at Stanford, who was a 
 solid, even-tempered, good-natured young 
 fellow, large framed and rather coarse featured, 
 but with handsome eyes that lit up his counte- 
 nance amazingly. These eyes brightened all 
 round upon the company, and then, with a well- 
 satisfied nod, he fell to his pencil again. 
 
 Mr Caleb passed by Dick Hesketh, but 
 coming in view of Winny, he stared at her. 
 Winny had her head a little on one side, her 
 brows a little knit. Disturbed by his observa- 
 tion she looked up with a lingering withdrawal 
 of her attention from her business, and met his 
 gaze. He came nearer, and approved her very 
 painstaking copy of an elaborate pile of build-
 
 THE DRAWING-CLASS. 8 1 
 
 ings on a hill — a fortified Rhine town, probably 
 — and then stared in her face again. Finally, 
 rapping her on the crown with the back of his 
 forefinger, he said : ' Here is a head that may 
 make itself heard of one of these fine days/ 
 
 'You are by way of being a prophet this 
 evening, Mr Caleb,' said the drawing-master 
 pleasantly. 
 
 Winny Hesketh coloured, and the expression 
 of her eyes was not the surprised, joyful anti- 
 cipation that had kindled young Stanford's, but 
 a sort of shy, troubled indifference. She had 
 read somewhere that the happiest women are 
 those who have no history. Of course, Dick 
 informed his mother of Mr Caleb's remark upon 
 his sister. The widow looked grave. 
 
 ' There are many ways of being heard of,* 
 said she. ' I trust that Winny will be a good 
 girl, and do her duty as a good teacher. It 
 could be no advantage to her to be heard of 
 in any other way.' 
 
 Nevertheless Winny laid up Mr Caleb's 
 words in her heart, and let her imagination 
 play with them sometimes. 
 
 VOL. L F
 
 82 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 Soon after — It was in September — occurred 
 one of those events that make us, when we are 
 new to life, wonder with dreadful awe at its 
 inscrutableness. One day Dick mentioned, on 
 coming in from school, that Stanford had got 
 a fever. 
 
 * Then keep away from the house, lest you 
 catch it, and bring it here,' said his mother, 
 imperative in her alarm. 
 
 * All right,' said Dick coolly. ' I never meant 
 to go near it.' 
 
 Dick did not go near it, but Winny, who now 
 more often than not walked to Mrs Mason's 
 by herself, after considering for one day, went 
 round the next to Stanford's home, and in- 
 quired how he did. The person who answered 
 her was his aunt, a care-worn, ill-dressed 
 woman. * He is no better — he is worsening. 
 Who is it that asks ? ' said she. 
 
 Winny explained herself as a fellow-pupil of 
 Stanford's at the drawing-class. The poor 
 woman seemed to forget herself; she gazed 
 beyond Winny for a minute, and then spoke, so 
 wearily, so sadly. ' The doctor says we must
 
 THE DRAWING-CLASS. 8 
 
 not hope to keep him — we have brought him 
 up only to lose him. And just when Mr Caleb 
 had promised such great things of him if he 
 lived ! ' 
 
 Every day after until the blinds were down 
 and the shutters closed Winny passed by the 
 house, but she called no more at the door. One 
 noon Dick announced for news that Stanford 
 was dead. Winny knew it already. That 
 evening she sat, as usual, with her lesson-books 
 before her at the round table opposite her 
 brother. Purposely neither he nor her mother 
 took any notice of her ; for it was both seen and 
 felt that she had very much ado to suppress 
 her tears. Between her and life had risen up 
 like a new revelation the tremendous certainty 
 of death, and she was realising it as only a 
 vivid young imagination can. At last, Dick 
 In an Impulse of kindness said: ' There's " The 
 Bride of Lammermoor," Winny,' offering her 
 the volume. But Winny shook her head, and 
 put It aside with her hand silently. This real 
 tragedy of Stanford's death penetrated her more 
 deeply than all the tragedies written In books.
 
 84 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 She slept in her mother's room still, and 
 when the widow went up to bed, she heard a 
 stifled sob. ' Don't cry, Winny — think if it had 
 been Dick,' said she remonstrating. 
 
 It remained long a marvel to Winny Hesketh 
 how lightly this death of a most promising 
 young fellow seemed to pass amongst elder 
 people. Stanford's funeral took place on a 
 Tuesday morning. In the evening Dick and 
 his sister went to their drawing-lesson. Mr 
 Cave moved his lost pupil's easel out of the 
 way. 
 
 ' Poor lad ! Mr Caleb prophesied that he 
 would do something grand if he lived,' was his 
 sole expression of regret. And then he cor- 
 rected the perspective of Dick Hesketh's last 
 essay, adding for that ill-furnished youth's 
 benefit : * Vou never will — in art, at least 
 What you may do at a desk remains to be 
 tried.'
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 THE MANOR SCHOOL. 
 
 That half-year closed Dick Hesketh's pro- 
 bation at the Grammar School, and shortly 
 after Christmas, being then over sixteen, he 
 said good-bye to Cotham, and went up to 
 London, to Mr Hayland's house and office, 
 with a store of Whittingtonian aspirations in 
 his heart, but very little Whittingtonian ballast 
 to sustain them. His mother kissed him, and 
 hoped for the best ; his sister kissed him, and 
 was sorry. They had always been good friends 
 and allies. 
 
 For yet another six months Winny Hesketh 
 continued at Mrs Mason's school, her occasional 
 companion in Dick's room being a girl of her 
 own age, Delphine Mercier, the French master's 
 daughter, who, like herself, was destined to the 
 independence that comes of work. Delphine
 
 86 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 was more English than foreign, her mother and 
 her breeding being English, and her gift was a 
 facility in acquiring languages ; but she took 
 her drawing-lessons with Mr Cave, and her 
 music-lessons with Mr Anderson, as Winny did. 
 Equality of fortune and similarity of tastes 
 drew them together, and formed a bond of 
 friendship that was not broken when Delphine 
 went to Switzerland to complete her studies 
 amongst her father's relations, and Winny 
 passed from Mrs Mason's charge into that 
 famous ladles seminary, Gotham Manor 
 School. 
 
 The Manor School had been established 
 over a century, and thither still went for their 
 education many daughters of the county fami- 
 lies, whose mothers and grandmothers and great- 
 grandmothers had been there before them. On 
 a lozenge-pane of the fine oriel window at the 
 end of the long corridor there was scratched 
 with a diamond ring, under the date of 1729, 
 this familiar distich — 
 
 * If you love me as I love you, 
 Nought but death shall part us two.'
 
 THE MANOR SCHOOL. 8/ 
 
 The names of Dorothy IMaxwell and Bell 
 Cholmley were signed below, and there had 
 been a Dorothy Maxwell and Elizabeth 
 Cholmley at the school within living memory. 
 The tradition was that none but young gentle- 
 women were received there, but the exclusive- 
 ness of the school was abating since the fashion 
 of private governesses had come up, and when 
 Winny Hesketh was admitted, on the footing of 
 half-boarder, there were several pupils whose 
 parents resided in Cotham, and others from the 
 neighbourhood whose families were of more 
 wealth than ancient dignity. But even a ladies' 
 seminary is in some sort a republic. Long 
 descent, taxed with stupidity, drops to the 
 lowest place in the class, and fine wit heads it, 
 no matter whence it sprang. 
 
 Winny Hesketh did not enter there without 
 negotiation. Mrs Mason opened the treaty, and 
 ]\Irs Brunton called upon the widow Hesketh 
 in her house on Castle Green for the express 
 purpose of seeing how the girl lived at home. 
 She was received in the gloomy back-parlour. 
 The widow sat calm and dignified in her corner
 
 88 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 chair ; Winny stood by the table, a thin, un- 
 formed figure of fourteen, with abundance of 
 brown hair, a heahhy complexion, large dark 
 eyes that were not afraid to look anybody in 
 the face, and a mouth that had a trick of ex- 
 pression not always in her favour. Her dress 
 was economical as ever — out-grown and un- 
 fashionable. 
 
 Mrs Brunton invited her to play a passage 
 from a sonata that was open on the desk of the 
 piano. Winny obeyed — and her music was 
 pronounced sufficient. Then she translated a 
 few lines of Voltaire's * Charles XII.' — her 
 French also would do. And then she took a 
 chair, and listened reflectively while the school- 
 mistress explained her future duties and position 
 to her mother. 
 
 * She will be called Miss Winifred, not Miss 
 Hesketh. She will have to hear the little ones 
 practise, and to help them in the preparation of 
 their lessons, and to assist them in dressing 
 and undressing — In fact, to make herself gener- 
 ally useful ; and I trust she will do it with dili- 
 gence and cheerfulness.'
 
 THE MANOR SCHOOL. 89 
 
 * Winny is not idle/ said her mother. 
 
 * And with regard to her own improvement, 
 she must avail herself of every opportunity, of 
 every spare moment — a governess wants not so 
 much high accomplishment as the faculty of using 
 what she knows. She will take her lessons with 
 the masters — and she must work — she must make 
 time for herself.' Here Mrs Brunton paused to 
 admit of a reply ; but receiving none, she pro- 
 ceeded : * It is the custom of the school to dine 
 at four o'clock, and the young ladies dress for 
 dinner. Miss Winifred will require her morn- 
 ing dresses up to the throat, and with long 
 sleeves, and in her evening dresses just a 
 simple tucker of muslin or lace. A bonnet with 
 blue ribbons, and a white dress with a blue belt 
 or sash for Sundays and holydays, will also be 
 necessary.' 
 
 That Winny Hesketh might enjoy these 
 privileges and distinctions her mother cove- 
 nanted to pay for her board one half the sum 
 paid annually by the parents and guardians of 
 the other pupils, and for her lessons with 
 masters the full charge. And under these
 
 90 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 arraneements she went to the Manor School 
 after the midsummer holidays, and was launched 
 into an entirely strange society. 
 
 The widow Hesketh had borne open testi- 
 mony that her little girl was not idle, but^ 
 unfortunately for Winny, none of the chief 
 authorities at the Manor School believed in the 
 willing horse, and the more she toiled in her 
 vocation, the more was laid upon her to do. 
 On those fortnightly Saturday afternoons when 
 she went home, her mother thought she looked 
 overtasked, but Winny did not complain, and 
 when she was questioned she denied it. She 
 said very little at home of what was done at 
 school. She had lived in the bracing atmos- 
 phere of reserve and control, and her early 
 habits were not relaxed. To begin with, she 
 was put into the second class amongst girls of 
 her own age, but the test of ability was the 
 'Subject,' a so-called original composition that 
 had to be produced once a month by every 
 girl, from the eldest to the youngest; and 
 Winny, having some turn that way, was so 
 happy in her first essay that Mrs Brunton
 
 THE MANOR SCHOOL. 9 1 
 
 moved her, there and then, into the first class, 
 and admonished the head girls to look to their 
 laurels. There could be no real rivalry, how- 
 ever, for the half-boarder did not compete for 
 prizes, and Winny's merit was its own reward. 
 Not that she cared — she was never of an 
 emulous or envious disposition. Her class- 
 fellows were now all older than herself, and the 
 incessant occupation of her days prevented her 
 seeking the companionship of any one above 
 the rest. She had as yet no powerful friend, 
 when there happened a crisis in her affairs 
 which brought the first chapter of her experi- 
 ences at the Manor School to an unimagined 
 and abrupt conclusion. 
 
 Mr Hollingshed, Mr Cave, and Mr Anderson 
 were still Winny's masters. Mr Hollingshed 
 was indulgent as ever to his stupid little pupil ; 
 Mr Cave soon discovered that she had no 
 leisure to work for him in his absence, and was 
 resigned ; but Mr Anderson found fault with 
 her imperfectly-practised pieces, and said she 
 was falling off instead of improving. Then she 
 told him that she had no time to practise until
 
 92 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 after the young ladies were In bed — from nine 
 till ten o'clock — and she did the best she could. 
 The reasonable man shrugged his shoulders, 
 and was answered. But Miss Hubbard, the 
 English teacher, had no such considerateness in 
 her soul. The futile system of repetitions with- 
 out chancre or omission of one word was in full 
 force at this period, and it was her business 
 to hear them. Winny could get the fluent 
 sense of her lessons easily, but get their 
 phrases verbatim in brief odd moments between 
 other duties she never could ; and when she 
 pleaded that she had no time for herself wherein 
 to learn them, Miss Hubbard confounded her 
 with that stereotyped, useful advice to drudges, 
 to make time, which she had already carried 
 out to the utmost elasticity of her waking-hours. 
 So next she stole an hour from her morning- 
 sleep, and often, when the maids crept down- 
 stairs in the cold November darkness, a thread 
 of light that slid through a chink of the school- 
 room door betrayed Miss Winifred at her silent 
 tasks. There was a prudent woman amongst 
 them who mentioned the fact to Mrs Brunton,
 
 THE MANOR SCHOOL. 93 
 
 and a cup of milk and thick slice of bread were 
 henceforward left on her desk over-night ; but 
 no veto was put on her early rising, and by- 
 degrees her work, or her anxiety about it, 
 curtailed her rest until many a morning she 
 heard the clock at St Stephen Martyr s strike 
 four after she had lighted her candle, and 
 opened her books. Nor would this discipline 
 of hard labour have done her any mischief had 
 she earned thereby a word of encouragement, 
 or even leave to be at peace. But Miss 
 Hubbard still found too much occasion to dis- 
 praise her, and Winny, vexed at her injustice, 
 and grown irritable from the strain upon her 
 nerves, offered sometimes a sigh for rejoinder, 
 but quite as often a smile too significant to be 
 pleasant, or a few caustic words that bit into 
 the memory, and left their mark. Miss Hub- 
 bard was a pre-eminently dull woman, but she 
 had many advantages as against Miss Winifred. 
 Perhaps she did not use them with intentional 
 maliciousness, but there came a time when it 
 was not necessary to be a prophet to foresee 
 that every day made a grave collision between
 
 94 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 the two more and more Imminent. There was 
 a girl In the school, Maggie Forbes, a miracle 
 of sad-humoured patience, a constant sufferer 
 from toothache, who would signal deprecating 
 gestures at the half-boarder provoked to anger, 
 and counsel her to mind what she was about. 
 * Do as I do — grin and bear it,' she would 
 say, comparing Winny's persecutions to her own 
 pains. But Winny bore a spirit, and thought 
 it servile to crouch to a tyrant. Winny could 
 not crouch. 
 
 In the catalogue of her duties apart from 
 study mention had been made by Mrs Brunton 
 of help to be given to the little ones at dressing 
 and undressing, and this was far from being 
 the whole of their claim upon her. Winny 
 washed and combed and curled some three or 
 four, others being taken off her hands by elder 
 girls of motherly type, but she had the clothes 
 to mend and stockings to darn of them all, and a 
 certain exact order to maintain In the drawers 
 where their linen was kept. This last was a 
 simple affair enough except with one handsome, 
 heedless child who disarrano^ed the contents of
 
 THE MANOR SCHOOL. 95 
 
 hers as often as she had access to It. It was 
 Miss Hubbard's custom to make a tour of the 
 wardrobes thrice a week during Mr Holling- 
 shed's lesson, while all the -girls were engaged 
 writing and summing, and it was quite the 
 exception if Miss Winifred did not incur a 
 rebuke for the untidiness of little Myra's drawer. 
 This happened so often that, at last, Winny 
 adopted the expedient of setting little Myra to 
 tidy it herself. Practice soon made the child 
 perfect, but did not, alas ! extirpate her root of 
 carelessness; and one memorable afternoon Miss 
 Hubbard descended from the upper story with 
 a bunch of small, unfolded, rumpled garments 
 in her hand, and laying them down before Miss 
 Winifred, bade her be ashamed of her negli- 
 gence, and go immediately and put Miss Myra's 
 drawer to rights. It was a wet day, and recrea- 
 tion time. Myra heard, and came running to 
 carry off her things, which WInny handed over 
 to her with a weary, reproachful air. She was 
 busy correcting a pile of second-class dictations, 
 and scarcely noticed that Miss Hubbard reiter- 
 ated her command, until one of the great girls
 
 96 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 plucked her by the sleeve, and whispered : 
 * You had better go, Miss Winifred/ 
 
 Winny lifted her head, and asked : ' What ! ' 
 then looked round, and said to the teacher : 
 ' Myra can put her drawer tidy herself now.' 
 
 Miss Hubbard rejoined : * I told you to go — 
 Q-Q at once.' 
 
 Winny went, and in a minute returned, saying : 
 ' It is done — Myra has done it.' 
 
 Miss Hubbard grew red, stood up, and made 
 her last appeal : 'Miss Winifred, do you defy 
 me?' 
 
 Winny paused for a scarcely perceptible mo- 
 ment, considering what she meant ; and then 
 she walked back to her desk, and went on cor- 
 recting those dictations. One might have heard 
 a pin drop in the awful silence that ensued. 
 Maggie Forbes groaned for pain of mind and 
 toothache, and the girls, generally, took long 
 looks at Miss Winifred, who had a hunted 
 expression, but evinced no other sign of emo- 
 tion. Then the dressing-bell rang before 
 dinner, and there was a dispersion, of which 
 Maggie Forbes availed herself to assure Winny
 
 THE MANOR SCHOOL. 97 
 
 of her sympathy under all consequences, while 
 little Myra came with tears in her big blue eyes 
 to make the useless offering of her penitence. 
 Winny only said : ' Let me alone.' Perhaps 
 she felt that she could not bear any more just 
 then ; and nobody was surprised that she did 
 not appear at dinner. She kept on at her 
 ordinary business amongst slates and exercise- 
 books until late in the evening. The great girls 
 talked apart, wondering what would be the 
 end of this novel episode. None of them cared 
 much for Miss Winifred — she was younger than 
 themselves, and unfamiliar — but none of them 
 cared much for Miss Hubbard either. Except 
 Maggie Forbes not any one owned yet to 
 having formed an opinion on what had 
 occurred, and Maggie kept hers to herself, 
 only gasping in a paroxysm of torture : * She 
 will be ordered to beg pardon, and say she is 
 sorry — but I know what I think.' 
 
 And that was the alternative proposed to 
 Winny Hesketh — to beg pardon and say she 
 was sorry — or to be dismissed the school. 
 Miss Hubbard made her complaint — the last of 
 
 VOL. L G
 
 qS this work-a-day world. 
 
 a tedious series of complaints — and Mrs Brunton 
 called for Miss Winifred to hear her judgment. 
 Witnessed against in her absence, Winny heard 
 it in silence, and went her way — with a week to 
 consider of it. For two days Miss Hubbard, 
 perhaps, enjoyed her triumph, but it could not 
 last. She had not a bad heart, and was pro- 
 bably sorry when it became evident that Miss 
 Winifred was far from penitently inclined. Her 
 submission had been anticipated so much as a 
 matter of course, that the gravity of the other 
 event had not been thought of by anybody but 
 herself Mrs Brunton watched the case with 
 increasing anxiety, and consulted her favourite 
 girls — girls who twelve months hence might be 
 married women of importance in Cotham. 
 They had not much to say — Miss Winifred was 
 certainly too quick with her tongue, but Miss 
 Hubbard was too exacting, and never could 
 think she had done enough. They would try, 
 however, to persuade Miss Winifred to beg 
 her pardon. Maggie Forbes listened and 
 despaired, sitting on the ground, while Winny 
 was put through this ordeal. She underwent
 
 THE MANOR SCHOOL. 99 
 
 it Stoically, and the result was announced to 
 Mrs Brunton in two words : * She won't.' 
 
 That evening Mrs Brunton went to talk to 
 Mrs Hesketh. The widow heard her story to 
 the end with a pale austere face, and when it 
 was done she said with a slis^ht tremble in her 
 voice : ' Will you tell Winny that her mother 
 will be glad to see her on Saturday ? ' 
 
 Mrs Brunton had hoped that Mrs Hesketh 
 would wish to see her little girl before Saturday 
 — to reason with her, to work on her feelings, 
 or use her authority. She was loath to go 
 with this conclusion ; she expressed her regret, 
 represented her difficulty — the necessity of 
 upholding the principle of obedience in a 
 school, the impossibility of suffering an act of 
 defiance to pass with impunity. The widow 
 bowed her head, and did not seem to think 
 further words called for. No doubt, when the 
 schoolmistress had taken her leave, and was 
 gone, she made grievous reflections on the 
 sorrow of children, and the uncertainty how 
 they would turn out. But she did not condemn 
 Winny — given the circumstances, Winny was
 
 lOO THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 doing just what might have been predicated of 
 her. 
 
 The intervening days went softly. Miss Hub- 
 bard appeared shy of Miss Winifred who went 
 about her business methodically, but with less 
 verve than her wont. She had not come much 
 under Mrs Brunton s notice before — only once, 
 when a sort of epidemic cold, attended with 
 aching head and limbs and swollen face, had 
 prevailed In the school. Miss Winifred, the first 
 victim, had kept up and done her work ; but 
 Mrs Brunton, the next attacked, had succumbed, 
 and gone to bed, and had wondered aloud in 
 her own anguish at the half-boarder's endur- 
 ance. She recollected it at this time — she was 
 reminded of it one evening when she met Miss 
 Winifred going down-stairs to the dining-room 
 to practise when the rest of the house was 
 still : ' I am afraid the fire is out. Miss Wini- 
 fred,' she said. * Oh, I don't care for the cold,' 
 said Winny, in just the same voice in which 
 she had said on that occasion : * Oh, I don't care 
 for the pain.' It was already a part of Winny's- 
 philosophy that some people had to bear more
 
 THE MANOR SCHOOL. 10 1 
 
 cold and more pain than others whether they 
 cared or not, and it was best to bear them 
 without making a fuss. 
 
 And so it came to Friday, and Winny 
 mentioned to Eccles, the head housemaid, that 
 she should want her box early in the morning. 
 * Then you're going, Miss Winifred ? You 
 can't knock under ? You'll find the proudest 
 spirits do have to come down,' said the servant 
 pityingly. For an hour before tea Winny was 
 occupied collecting her own books, and pre- 
 paring to give up her trusts. Maggie Forbes 
 followed her about with pleading eyes. Some- 
 body scolded little Myra, and she cried. Then 
 one of the great girls — she was only a year 
 older than Winny, but she was very tall and of 
 the highest reputation in the school for ability 
 and goodness, of a beautiful countenance too — 
 came and put her hand round Winny's neck, 
 and laid her cheek against hers, and said how 
 sorry, how very sorry they all were — and could 
 she not, could she not — and here she broke 
 down, sobbing. Winny sat quite still for a 
 minute ; eagerly observed, eagerly solicited :
 
 I02 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 ' Oh, do, Miss Winifred, do.' Then she looked 
 round from face to face, and releasing herself 
 from the caress, so pathetically strange to her, 
 she said : * No, I cannot. And think what my 
 life would be' — and she got up, and went 
 out. 
 
 Maggie Forbes dropt her head on her desk 
 with a vehement groan, and said : ' I knew she 
 wouldn't ! '
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 UNDER A CLOUD. 
 
 The Manor School was an old Jacobean man- 
 sion of red brick, with round-headed gables and 
 stone dressings, and a luxuriant vine growing 
 over the front. A spacious court-yard secluded 
 it from the street, and when Winny Hesketh 
 left it that Saturday at noon, all the pale 
 November sunshine seemed to have got en- 
 tangled amongst the yellow leaves of the lime- 
 trees that overtopt the garden wall. As she 
 passed into the street, she passed into the 
 shade. She was alone, and sad enough. She 
 took her way straight to Castle Green, and met 
 her mother in the shop. 
 
 'Well, Winny, my dear,' said the widow, 
 and came forward and kissed her. Winny did 
 not speak — could not trust herself to speak. 
 ' There is a good fire in the parlour, and dinner
 
 I04 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 will be ready at one. Go, and take your bonnet 
 off, and I will come to you presently,' her 
 mother said again, and dismissed her with a 
 nod. 
 
 It was not until dusk that they talked of 
 what had happened, Winny sitting in the old 
 rocking-chair, and her mother opposite. It 
 began by Winny asking if there was any news 
 of Dick. 
 
 ' Yes, there's news — not very good news, I 
 am sorry to say. His uncle complains of his 
 idleness — just as I expected,' said the widow. 
 
 * And there's not good news of me either,' 
 Winny added in a low tone. 
 
 Her mother spoke out. * It is a pity, 
 Winny, there is no denying that — whether you 
 are most to blame or somebody else is. It was 
 an advantage, as Mrs Mason and Miss Baxter 
 said, when Mrs Brunton consented to take you ; 
 for the very name of having had your educa- 
 tion at the Manor School would have been 
 a recommendation to you for your whole life.' 
 And then there was silence. 
 
 Later in the evening, when all was quiet on
 
 UNDER A CLOUD. IO5 
 
 Castle Green, when curtains were drawn and 
 candles lighted, the widow Hesketh looked in 
 her child's face, and said : * You are very dark 
 under the eyes, Winny — thin you always were, 
 but you are thinner than ever/ And then, by 
 dint of close questioning, she arrived at a 
 partial knowledge of what her work and her 
 vexations had been. Winny was moderate in 
 her expressions ; she was evidently weighed 
 upon by her actual disaster, and in one sense 
 she had begun to feel already that it had come 
 upon her by her own fault. Her mother feared 
 to deject her, but she feared also lest she 
 might encourage her natural self-will. Winny 
 knew her mother was good to her because she 
 was Winny ; but the problem of the rights 
 and wrongs of her trial were left for her own 
 conscience to work out. This aspect of it held 
 firm — that she would have scorned herself 
 had she made submission to Miss Hubbard ; 
 because such submission would not have arisen 
 out of any sincere conviction that it was due, 
 but out of fear of the threatened penalty. And, 
 in fact, she did not fear it — not on her own
 
 I06 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 account. Her heart ached with a sort of 
 pitiful remorse when she watched her mother, 
 and divined her distress ; but for herself, she 
 felt as if she had escaped from a yoke intoler- 
 ably galling, and that night she slept by her 
 mother s side as she had not slept for weeks. 
 The widow listened to her soft breathing 
 thankfully, herself kept awake by many anxi- 
 ous thoughts. 
 
 In the morning there was a colour in Winny's 
 cheeks, and her eyes had brightened. ' I'm 
 sure, Winny, I don't know what is to be done 
 with you,' said her mother at breakfast. 
 
 * I am young, mother, yet,' was Winny's re- 
 joinder, and both her voice and her countenance 
 were cheerful. It appeared that her courage 
 was not abated, and that she would not soon 
 despair of herself. 
 
 It was Sunday, and they went to church. 
 Winny had not given up musing in church, 
 and she had something to muse of this 
 morning — What was to be done with her ? 
 What! 
 
 In the afternoon Miss Baxter called upon
 
 UNDER A CLOUD. IO7 
 
 the widow Hesketh — her most constant friend, 
 a lover of Winny too. 
 
 * It begins to feel strange when children 
 get beyond guidance, J\Irs Hesketh — and 
 Winny of all good children in the world ! ' was 
 her opening address. ' I never had any chil- 
 dren of my own, but I can fancy how It must 
 be with those who have, when they see the 
 poor young creatures daring perils that they 
 have no notion of. Aye, Winny, you may look 
 at me — It's you I'm thinking of! She must 
 go back to the Manor School, Mrs Hesketh.' 
 
 Her mother bade Winny run away — she 
 wished to speak with Miss Baxter alone. 
 Then the widow told her child's side of the 
 story. 
 
 * It was hard upon her, very hard, but she 
 must learn to endure hardness. She is healthy 
 and strong,' was Miss Baxter's answer. 
 
 Mrs Hesketh demurred. * She is healthy 
 enough, but up early and down late, and 
 fretted besides, tells on a growing girl's strength 
 and temper. If I had known beforehand all 
 that was expected from her, I should have
 
 I08 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 thought twice before sending her to Mrs 
 Brunton. Winny is not one of the complain- 
 ing sort, and though she's mine, I can say 
 this for her, that when it comes to a duty that 
 she owns, she would drop before she would 
 be beat. Mrs Brunton was hasty — she spoke 
 without hearing the child in her defence. I 
 know that Winny won't be driven — you may 
 guide her — she'll hear reason. But against 
 what she calls tyranny, she'll set her face like 
 a flint.' 
 
 Nevertheless, Miss Baxter adhered to her 
 opinion that Winny must go back to the 
 school. The next day Mrs Mason visited the 
 widow, and was of the same counsel. Mr 
 Anderson also came, and talked long to her 
 mother. Winny was sent out of the room 
 again, but before the music-master left she was 
 called to hear what he had to say. 
 
 'Miss Winifred, this is a troublesome busi- 
 ness — I wish you were well through it,' he 
 began. * I have known you since you were 
 quite young, and I wish very much you were 
 well through it.'
 
 UNDER A CLOUD. IO9 
 
 Winny blushed, surprised. It was not long 
 since Mr Anderson was young himself — even if 
 he were not young yet. He went on : 'It was 
 a mere straw that broke your patience at last — 
 I wonder at you, Miss Winifred 1 But there 
 was never any love lost between you and Miss 
 Hubbard.' 
 
 * I did nothing wilfully to provoke her. She 
 tried to wear me out,' said Winny. 
 
 * Where you feel a contempt, Miss Winifred, 
 you make it felt — without a word spoken you 
 make it felt.' Winny looked down. ' Just with 
 a curl of the lip and a glance of the eye, you 
 can avenge yourself — and the person you de- 
 spised has been able to bring you to this dis- 
 grace ! ' 
 
 Winny caught her breath. All the colour 
 went out of her face, and her dilated eyes filled 
 with tears. ' I don't care for disgrace — if it be 
 disgrace ! Mother, are you ashamed of me ? ' 
 cried she. 
 
 * No, Winny — I am grieved, deeply grieved.' 
 
 * Miss Winifred, what I tell you is true — it is 
 a disgrace to be dismissed from the Manor
 
 I lO THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 School. I have reason to believe that Mrs 
 Brunton will relent yet, if you will promise to 
 keep a guard upon your little sarcastic 
 mouth for the time to come.' Mr Anderson 
 was very earnest in his appeal ; his words were 
 severe, but his intentions were kind. And he 
 had been just as urgent on the other side. 
 
 Winny was so long in answering that her 
 mother spoke : ' What do you say, Winny ? ' 
 
 ' What do you say, mother ? ' the child asked 
 with a tremulous, pale smile. 
 
 ' I say that you must answer for yourself. 
 The disgrace is nothing that cannot be lived 
 down.* 
 
 ' Then I will live it down,' was Winny's 
 almost inaudible conclusion. 
 
 The music-master had pleaded in vain. He 
 took his leave, shaking hands with his pupil, 
 and saying to her mother that he would give 
 her a lesson twice a week — in the evening if it 
 was convenient. ' And you must practise for 
 me more than you have done lately,' said he, 
 going out. 
 
 The widow Hesketh knew that it was
 
 UNDER A CLOUD, III 
 
 finished, and told any friend who desired to re- 
 open the subject with Winny that it had better 
 be let alone for the present. 
 
 A complete account of Winny's disaster was 
 written to her Aunt Agnes by her mother, and 
 in course of post came a letter of condolence 
 from her, and a message from Uncle Hay land 
 to Winny, advising her to study the French 
 fable of, ' Le chene et le roseau.' Winny knew 
 it by heart, moral and all, but she failed to 
 perceive its application to her own case. 
 
 There was no suggestion for the future in 
 Aunt Agnes's letter, and the dark days of 
 winter came on. The widow used to talk to 
 her child as they sat by the fireside, and to ask 
 her what she thought. But Winny was so ig- 
 norant of the world — she did not know what to 
 think. There were the Christmas bills to make 
 out : the widow would not allow any one to 
 make them out but herself, but Winny could 
 call over the long rows of figures for her, to be 
 sure that they tallied with the figures In the 
 book. In csLvry'mg out this process, Winny
 
 I I 2 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 discovered the imperfection of her mother's 
 scholarship in words almost comically mis-spelt. 
 It was a shock to her, but her second thoughts 
 were all tenderness. She would not have told 
 her discovery, or have insinuated a single cor- 
 rection. Her mothers customers must long 
 since have become used to her spelling, and 
 her accounts being just, what did it matter ? 
 Thus Winny reasoned. Apart from her spell- 
 ing, she regarded her mother as the wisest and 
 cleverest of women. 
 
 Then Miss Baxter, notwithstanding that her 
 advice had been neglected, was good to the 
 child. She invited her to tea every week, and 
 Winny took her thimble, and went gladly. The 
 drawing-room over the chemist's shop looked 
 down on the busiest thoroughfare in Cotham. 
 It was a ricketty old house, full of old furniture 
 and old pictures, all faded and smoky ; and in 
 one window stood permanently an embroidery- 
 frame that was never without its piece of work 
 and brilliant skeins of silk. Miss Baxter was a 
 famous embroideress, and had her patterns 
 from France. Great ladies paid her great
 
 UNDER A CLOUD. II3 
 
 prices for her fine table-covers of cloth and 
 velvet, wreathed with flowers. She and her 
 sister had succeeded to their father's old- 
 established business, and had kept it on, with 
 the assistance of a former apprentice, promoted 
 to a very small partnership. Miss Baxter was 
 the woman of the house ; her sister, Miss 
 Maria, an expert in Latin and drugs, was the 
 man. Miss Maria had a tart temper, but she 
 reserved its tartness for the shop, and was 
 always good-humoured upstairs. Winny Hes- 
 keth was a favourite there. She had not skill 
 to help at the rich and rare embroidery, but she 
 could ply her needle in other ways, and be very 
 useful to the two old maiden ladies. Winny 
 thought them old, but they were probably not 
 much over forty at this date, for they never 
 grew any older than they seemed then. 
 
 Being under a cloud, Winny was grateful 
 for any countenance that was vouchsafed her, 
 and listened meekly to the good words of 
 caution and counsel that were distilled into her 
 ears during these visits. The question. What 
 was to be done with her ? grew pressing. Was 
 
 VOL. L H
 
 I 14 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 the Intention of affording her a superior educa- 
 tion to be dropt ? She had some serviceable 
 quaHties — qualities that would avail her in 
 whatever way she might seek her subsistence. 
 The fashion of embroidery was going out, or 
 she might have learnt to embroider. Her 
 mother had been a successful milliner — Winny 
 was not yet too old to be apprenticed to 
 Decker & Trym's. Miss Maria Baxter pro- 
 fessed that she would infinitely rather be a 
 milliner in her own shop than be a governess 
 in anybody's house — give her independence ! 
 
 Winny could appreciate the joy of independ- 
 ence, and she knew the chafe of thraldom, but 
 painful blushes dyed her cheeks when she con- 
 templated the possibility of being condemned 
 for life to the monotony of stitch, stitch, stitch. 
 Yet she would not at this crisis have refused 
 obedience to any declared wish of her mother. 
 Her strength was exhausted in that one effort 
 of resistance to Miss Hubbard, and to what- 
 ever form of servitude she had been consigned 
 next, she would have taken up her task with- 
 out objection, as the lot to which by her own
 
 UNDER A CLOUD. I I 5 
 
 deliberate act and deed, she had reduced her- 
 self. 
 
 The widow Hesketh watched her child with 
 more perplexity than Winny could have any 
 idea of. She knew that it would be almost 
 cruel to bind her to manual toil — she was better 
 worth than tying bows, Mrs Fleetwood said. 
 Winny, humbled by the distress she was 
 the occasion of, began to give in to the belief 
 that she deserved her fate, but this friend, who 
 was apt to take other views than the majority, 
 forbade it. 
 
 * Never put a whip into your enemy's hand, 
 by admitting that to be your fault which is not 
 your fault,' she said. * It was a slavish obedience 
 that was required of you, and I, for one, com- 
 mend the spirit that would not yield it. Where 
 are you going to send Winny now, Mrs Hes- 
 keth ? ' The widow gazed at her child very 
 wistfully, and said that they had not come to a 
 decision. Mrs Fleetwood glanced from the one 
 to the other, and gave her tribute of advice : 
 * Don't throw her away — but I need not say 
 that — Winny will not allow herself to be thrown
 
 I 1 6 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 away. She is all imagination ; afford her suffi- 
 cient learning to nourish it, and we shall be 
 proud of her some day.' 
 
 Mrs Hesketh shook her head : ' I shall be 
 satisfied with less than that, Mrs Fleetwood.' 
 
 The visitor rose with an impetuous gesture. 
 ' Kiss me, Winny, and keep up your heart. I 
 must go, or it will be dark before I get home. 
 My word for it, you have been more sinned 
 against than sinning. Don't fret, child — a 
 little longer patience, and the clouds must 
 part.' 
 
 When Mrs Fleetwood was gone Winny 
 brought out her books. * It is of no use dwell- 
 ing on it, and being miserable, mother,' said 
 she. 
 
 * No, Winny,' responded the widow with a 
 regretful sigh. ' What is done cannot be un- 
 done. As you have begun you will have to 
 go on — doing and deciding for yourself, and 
 braving the consequences of what you do.'
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 BETWEEN THE SHOWERS. 
 
 The clouds did part, and soon, and In an 
 unexpected quarter. The New Year's parcel 
 from Aunt Agnes came in due time, and the 
 letter announcing it brought a proposal that 
 Winny should be sent to London — her cousin 
 Lucy was going over to France with her 
 governess, Madame Bouvler, to live for six 
 months at Avranches, in the house of Madame's 
 father, a physician, for the sake of a change 
 that it was hoped might be beneficial to her 
 health, and if Winny's mother did not object * 
 to the expense, Madame Bouvier would take 
 charge of her also, and the cousins might 
 pursue their studies together. It was added 
 that Winny would, at the end of six months, 
 be older, wiser, and better able to cope with
 
 Il8 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 her work, if it seemed desirable for her to 
 return to the Manor School. 
 
 Winny coloured with pleasure at the first 
 part of the letter. With regard to the latter 
 clause, her mother said : ' We will not look 
 forward.' There was not a moment's hesitation 
 about accepting for her the proposal that she 
 should go to France. 
 
 Naturally Winny thought of London first, of 
 seeing Dick and Lucy, and the great, unknown 
 city. She did not need urging to be diligent 
 with her needle now ; she desired more things 
 than her mother considered necessary, and did 
 not object to sit all day long helping Miss 
 Dalby, the little humpbacked dressmaker who 
 came to sew. * You must think I am made of 
 money,' was the widow's expostulation against 
 some of her many wishes. Nevertheless, she 
 gave her everything she asked for, and Winny 
 was glad, and not at all ashamed of wanting 
 so much at once. That she was sorry to leave 
 her mother, or that her mother was sorry to 
 part with her, there were no signs at all. Mrs 
 Hesketh said that she trusted it would be for
 
 BETWEEN THE SHOWERS. II9 
 
 her child's good, and so that she did well, it 
 w^as enough for her. As for Winny — girls are 
 very ungrateful. They never seem to come 
 to a sense of what they owe their mothers until 
 they are mothers themselves. 
 
 So Winny Hesketh went to London, by 
 coach and by railway, through the country 
 covered with snow, and was met by her Uncle 
 Hay land and Dick at the other end of the 
 journey. Her Aunt Agnes and her cousin 
 Lucy gave her a warm welcome, and her 
 cousin Herbert, who was Dick's age, was very 
 good-natured. Ellen was a little girl of ten, 
 a pet yet, a pretty child who'w^as dispatched 
 to bed as soon as she had kissed her cousin 
 Winny. Mr Hayland lived in Welbeck Street, 
 in a venerable house, rather confined as re- 
 garded air, but otherwise handsome and com- 
 fortable. In a day or two Winny felt at home 
 there. Her Aunt Agnes was hospitable and 
 kind. Her Uncle Hayland generally went 
 into the city after breakfast, accompanied by 
 Herbert and Dick, but sometimes the boys 
 went alone, and he took Winny to see some
 
 I20 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 Hon of London such as country cousins must 
 needs be shown. Winny had been a week or 
 more in Welbeck Street before any word was 
 said to her of the circumstances that had led 
 to her coming to town ; but one day (it was 
 Sunday afternoon, and the occasion was pro- 
 bably prepared) she found herself left in the 
 drawing-room alone with her Uncle, who was 
 seated at the window furthest from the fire, 
 with the Family Bible before him. Winny by 
 the hearth had a good book on her lap, but 
 she was not reading it — she was feeling the 
 time long, and wondering where Dick was. 
 She looked up, and met her Uncle's eyes 
 resting on her. He had taken off his gold 
 spectacles, and laid them on the open page. 
 
 He began to speak of the *many troubles her 
 mother had had — of her losses in money and 
 friends, of the loss of Winny's father, and of 
 the hope she had cherished that she would 
 have comfort in her children. 'You are not 
 going to disappoint her, Winny ? ' he said ; and 
 Winny was moved. He came and stood over 
 against her, and told her the story of that evan-
 
 BETWEEN THE SHOWERS. I 2 I 
 
 gelical man, John Bradford, who, meeting a 
 criminal on his way to execution, said : ' There, 
 but for the grace of God, goes John Brad- 
 ford ! ' and he adjured her to seek that grace 
 of God, that the depravity of her heart might 
 not defeat her mother's endeavours, and bring 
 her to greater grief 
 
 Winny did not like to hear of the depravity 
 of her heart out of church — there it signified 
 much the same as confessing herself a miserable 
 sinner; and she knew that if she had called 
 herself a miserable sinner to Dick, he would 
 have said she was making fun or telling a story. 
 But her Uncle Hayland laid stress on this de- 
 pravity as an absolute and existent fact, and 
 when he had probed her conscience a little 
 deeper, Winny began to recollect what violent 
 and wicked thoughts had often traversed her 
 mind when she was angry, and how she had 
 not been far from hating Miss Hubbard — 
 ' But she made me hate her,' said she, still 
 on the defensive. 
 
 ' She did not put the evil spirit of hatred 
 into your heart, my dear Winny, she only
 
 122 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 showed you that It was there. The uncon- 
 verted heart Is the abode of all Satan's brood.' 
 It is probable that Uncle Hayland caught 
 a glimpse of some laughing Imp In WInny' s 
 bright eyes at this Instant, for he stopped, 
 stroked her hair, and went back to his Bible. 
 
 Mr Hayland's religion happily admitted of 
 much tenderness to sinners such as she was, 
 and the six weeks she spent in Welbeck Street 
 were a bright interlude In her young life. She 
 seemed a new creature in these new circum- 
 stances ; she developed a playful, Innocent 
 vivacity, and an elastic power of enjoyment. 
 The effect of kindness on her was like the 
 effect of sunshine on a plant that Is lifted out 
 of a cold north shade. Her uncle might and 
 did sigh over her unregenerate mind, but he 
 called her capital company; and though her 
 Aunt Agnes denounced her as too stiff In 
 certain opinions and prejudices, she confessed 
 that there was something real in her to work 
 upon, and since her mother was utterly resolved 
 that she must be a self-helpful and self-depen- 
 dent woman, it was, perhaps, a good thing that
 
 BETWEEN THE SHOWERS. I 23 
 
 she possessed a moral back-bone of more than 
 common firmness. Oh, that Dick were more 
 like her in this respect, was both uncle and 
 aunt's conclusion. 
 
 Winny Hesketh had not come yet to the 
 years when it is an ascertained fact of experi- 
 ence that pleasant opportunities do not often 
 recur, nor happy days repeat themselves. But 
 she took advantage of existing chances as if she 
 had the bitter fruit of knowledge to teach her 
 not to delay, lest delay should prove to be 
 loss. Her cousin Lucy said of her that she was 
 the most cheerful and least hopeful soul she 
 knew, and she was a puzzle to her. Perhaps 
 Winny was a puzzle to herself, but she did not 
 fall into morbid reflection thereupon. She only 
 quoted that scripture which bids us not boast 
 of the morrow since we know not what a day 
 may bring forth. And if she were required to 
 vote for any amusement, whether it should be 
 now or then^ her voice was invariably for now. 
 This was so marked as to be a trait of char- 
 acter in her already.
 
 124 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 Then her sentiment of what was actually 
 amusing to her was strong. She did not limply 
 yield herself to be dragged hither and thither 
 under the pretence of entertainment, if she did 
 not like the entertainment. She chose her 
 pleasures with a discriminating taste — her taste 
 might alter, might grow more cultivated, but at 
 this date it was for and against such and such 
 things, and she did not want courage to assert 
 it. Lucy warned her to take care that this 
 decision in preferences did not turn into a blind- 
 ness to the wishes and rights of others. 
 
 * Tell me, Lucy, when I set my own whim 
 selfishly first where others are concerned,' said 
 Winny quietly. 
 
 Lucy, become more accurately observant, 
 discovered that Winny could forego a treat 
 with as lively a good humour as she could 
 enjoy it. This was the time of Christmas 
 parties, and more than once or twice there 
 were invitations out which did not include the 
 little country-cousin. But Winny watched Lucy 
 and her sister being made smart without one 
 manifest longing on her own behalf, and would
 
 BETWEEN THE SHOWERS. I 25 
 
 He awake to hear Lucy's prattle when she 
 came home, and sit up shivering in her night- 
 cap as merry as if she had shared the fun — a 
 true goodness on her part which amazed her 
 cousins. 
 
 It was when the treat was for her especially 
 provided that she was independent in her use 
 of it. Her Aunt Agnes proposed to convoy 
 her to the Zoological Gardens. Winny stated 
 that she should like that much, if her aunt 
 would promise not to betray her into the 
 presence of the monkeys or the snakes. 
 
 ' My dear Winny, the monkeys are the most 
 diverting part of the collection, and the snakes, 
 as you call them, are beautiful ! * 
 
 ' The picture of a serpent makes me shudder, 
 and I have seen a poor monkey — it was too 
 pathetically human.' 
 
 She was not further urged. She was allowed 
 to be pleased with the female elephant and her 
 sucking child, and to admire seven young 
 leopards at play ; and also to be sorry for the 
 caged lions. The spectacle of a gorgeous 
 peacock spreading his tail on a dust heap
 
 126 THIS WORK- A-DAY WORLD. ' 
 
 evoked her satire. And of another tall bird, 
 a rich plumaged bird, who lifted his legs 
 measuredly, and turned his head as if enacting 
 a pompous part to slow music, she said that 
 Nature must have made him in a freak to let 
 mortals see the caricature of their high-stepping, 
 secret pride. Aunt Agnes thought the com- 
 parison clever, and that it would have done 
 very well in a Subject. 
 
 Mr Hayland's favourite place of instruction 
 for youthful visitors was the British Museum, and 
 here again Winny selected her own diversion, 
 chiefly in the manuscript-room. Geology and the 
 insect creation Uncle Hay land considered more 
 eternally profitable, but he could not entice 
 Winny away from the glazed desks, where she 
 could read a letter of Queen Elizabeth, and see 
 what a pope's bull looked like, and make her 
 reflections on the handwriting of men and 
 women famous and infamous in the pages of 
 Goldsmith — for Goldsmith had not come to be 
 despised as an historical authority for the young 
 yet, and Winny's memory was stored with his 
 pictures. Amongst the tombs in Westminster
 
 BETWEEN THE SHOWERS. 12/ 
 
 Abbey she had another delightful morning, and 
 at the Tower she was mightily gratified, but of 
 all the sights of London she gave her prefer- 
 ence to the London streets. 
 
 Her uncle was very indulgent to her vagrant 
 propensities. He took her into the city, and 
 let her into the mystery of secluded courts, 
 where plane-trees grew and ancient families of 
 mercantile renown still kept their old-world 
 state, a pattern to a feverish generation. He 
 took her up the river and down the river on 
 sunshiny morning steamboats, and showed her 
 Lambeth Palace and the Lollards' Tower, and 
 Fulham, and Chelsea old church for Sir 
 Thomas Mores sake, and the grim Water-gate 
 at the Tower, and the Temple Gardens and 
 Northumberland House, and she peopled them 
 all out of Shakespeare or Goldsmith. And 
 then he showed her London Bridge at noon, 
 and Smithfield out of the beautiful stair-case 
 window of a house where they lunched with 
 an aged lady in a room hung with stamped 
 leather tapestry ; and he showed her the cross- 
 ing opposite the Bank of England at four
 
 128 THIS WORK-A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 o'clock, and brought her home through Oxford 
 Street by gasHght. Then Aunt Agnes inter- 
 posing, said that was enough, and her uncle pro- 
 mised that when next she came to London, if it 
 were summer, she should go to Hampton Court 
 and Windsor Castle, where so much history- 
 had been transacted in good times and bad. 
 
 Altogether this visit was a success, and of 
 infinite benefit to Winny. It opened the eyes 
 of her understanding, and warmed the cold 
 corners of her heart. This was truly the 
 happiest Christmas of her childhood. At that 
 season the rigour of her uncle's piety was 
 relaxed in favour of a carpet dance for the 
 young people, at which Madame Bouvier 
 played the piano. Winny skipped about with 
 agility, and she never wanted a partner. One of 
 them was acquainted with Mr Caleb and Mrs 
 Fleetwood at Cotham, and had heard of Winny 
 as the little girl who said she wouldn't, and she 
 didn't care — he was a painter himself, and very 
 humorous. He mimicked Winny's country- 
 steps, which cleared the floor much oftener than 
 the steps that were the fashion in town, and
 
 BETWEEN THE SHOWERS. I 29 
 
 when WInny retaliated by mimicking his drawl- 
 ing feet they became excellent friends. 
 
 Winny and her Cousin Lucy spent an after- 
 noon at that painter's house. Lucy was going 
 to be bridesmaid to his daughter, and while 
 they two were deep in confidential chat over 
 chiffo7is, the painter appeared, and found 
 Winny without amusement. He proposed 
 that she should go into his studio, and seek 
 it there. Winny went, and was talked to 
 agreeably until another painter appeared, and 
 then another, to whom she was introduced as 
 ' A bit of Northshire.' She would have wished 
 to retire to the drawing-room then, but the last 
 comer cried out that she was a new face, and 
 would just do for his country-girl, counting her 
 chickens before they were hatched. And being 
 appealed to whether she minded, and not 
 minding, but only blushing a trifle, she was 
 made a model of with a basket on her arm, 
 supposed to contain those famous eggs that 
 never came to anything, and sketched twice 
 over — one sketch being presented to her as 
 the reward of patience, and the other carried 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 130 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 off to serve as a study for the picture. Aunt 
 Agnes told her when she went home that she 
 might esteem herself highly flattered by such 
 notice, and Winny was pleased. 
 
 ' Mr Barton says that Cousin Winny s eyes 
 will do some mischief by and by,' Lucy inno- 
 cently communicated. 
 
 ' Pshaw ! ' ejaculated Aunt Agnes, with a 
 sense of duty for the repression of vanity. 
 ' Mr Barton ought to know better than to talk 
 nonsense to girls. Don't let silly notions get 
 into your head, Winny, or they will make you 
 affected, and spoil the little good looks you 
 have. You are not nearly so pretty as your 
 mother was, I can tell you.' 
 
 Winny was blithely indifferent — she had 
 never fancied herself pretty at all. Neverthe- 
 less, a lingering, faint complacency was the 
 result of Aunt Agnes's admonition. One 
 would rather be agreeable to look at than 
 otherwise, and it was a sensible relief to dis- 
 cover that her ugliness was being ameliorated. 
 
 The best of times must have an end, and
 
 BETWEEN THE SHOWERS. I 3 I 
 
 the day came at last when Madame Bouvler 
 carried the two girls away to France, Lucy In 
 tears, Winny in cheerful philosophic humour. 
 It was a healthy little life they lived at 
 Avranches, and If it did not permanently im- 
 prove Lucy's strength, it did much in ever^^ 
 way for Winny. She delighted in the foreign 
 town, its manners, customs and costumes, its 
 neighbourhood and scenery. Nothing was a 
 hardship to her there, nothing a difficulty — not 
 her needle even, with which she learnt to graft 
 a silk stocking, and to embroider exquisite 
 fine muslin work w^ith a variety of stitches. 
 She embroidered a beautiful muslin collar for 
 her mother, and was a complete personification 
 of useful industry. In that household reason 
 ruled and prevailed. Madame Bouvler began 
 by suspecting in her a temper of revolt and 
 Indocility, but Winny was quite the reverse of 
 indocile here — so Intelligent, easy-going, and 
 unselfish, that she won a character for more 
 than common ability and goodness, and Madame 
 Bouvler stated In a letter to her Aunt Agnes, 
 which was forwarded to Cotham, that she should
 
 132 THIS WORK-A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 regard herself as very fortunate, indeed, if she 
 never met with a worse pupil. 
 
 The six months passed but too quickly. Mr 
 Hayland could not spare his dear Lucy any 
 longer, and she was to come home with 
 Madame Bouvier; but there was a debate 
 whether Winny should be placed under other 
 care, and left still at Avranches, or whether she 
 should go home with them. Mrs Brunton, on 
 Madame's flattering report, had again expressed 
 her willingness to give her another trial, and 
 Winny was not permitted to doubt that her 
 mother and all her friends at Cotham were of 
 opinion that it would be for her true interests 
 to make the concession that was required of her, 
 and to go back to the Manor School. That a 
 boy should be obstinate in rebellion was not 
 strange, they told her, but that a girl should 
 hold out against a host of advisers was a thing 
 unheard-of. Winny temporised, and gave way. 
 She had never forgotten her uncle's exposition 
 of the depravity of her heart, and with some 
 confusion of ideas, she made the concession 
 and returned to England.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 VARIABLE WEATHER. 
 
 There was a change in the house on Castle- 
 Green when Winny Hesketh saw it again. 
 The legend in the window had disappeared, 
 and the shop was become once more a parlour. 
 Her mother sat there making up a clean net 
 cap. Winny had not been warned of the 
 change, but a few words explained it to her. 
 The business was given up because the widow 
 began to find it falling off, and did not feel her- 
 self any longer equal to the struggle of competi- 
 tion ; and with Dick provided for, and an end 
 in view of the expenses of Winny's education, 
 she had enough laid by to live on, while giving 
 up the drawing-room floor of her house to a 
 lodger. Mr Andrews was still there, unseen 
 and unheard, the most unobtrusive and taciturn 
 of elderly gentlemen.
 
 I 34 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 The Manor School had re-assembled after 
 the midsummer holidays when Winny Hesketh 
 went back. Mrs Brunton welcomed her with 
 matter-of-fact encouragem.ent, Miss Hubbard 
 met her with a blush. There had been a great 
 exodus of elder girls at the last breaking-up, 
 but the younger ones who had known her came 
 round her like bees, kissing her, and making 
 much of her. Maggie Forbes, temporarily free 
 from toothache, was the only one who offered 
 an admonition. * Now, Miss Winifred, you 
 know what you have to expect, so do be 
 cautious ' — a warning that put into words 
 numerous doubts and fears that had haunted 
 Winny's mind in a shadowy way from the 
 moment she began to contemplate the re- 
 sumption of her bondage. Then that great 
 girl who had sobbed over her when she left — 
 Miss Mildred Hutton — came and tucked her 
 under her arm in a protective fashion, and 
 informed her that they were to be bed-fellows 
 — apparently it was meant to keep Miss Wini- 
 fred straight now by being indulgent to her. 
 
 The next day she stepped into her groove.
 
 VARIABLE WEATPIER. I 35 
 
 She found some of the duties that had been 
 assigned to her before committed now to 
 Eccles, and others Miss Hubbard was taxed 
 with — but these soon again devolved on the 
 half-boarder. During the past half year there 
 had been in her room two successive incompe- 
 tents who neither would nor could satisfy the 
 requirements of her place, and Maggie Forbes 
 tried to impress it upon Winny that if she only 
 exercised a judicious regard for her own rights, 
 and smoothed the curl out of her lip, she w^ould 
 get on with Miss Hubbard now, their incom- 
 patibility of temper notwithstanding ; for her 
 value as an uncomplaining, laborious girl had 
 been appreciated in her absence, and even 
 quoted. 
 
 Winny began with good intentions, and 
 hoped the best of herself. There might be a 
 little growth of grace in her, but assuredly there 
 was no miraculous conversion. Her life was 
 soon again a warfare with Miss Hubbard, 
 though it was no longer a warfare without 
 allies. Miss Hutton was already her friend, 
 and in a little while she had another, still more
 
 J 
 
 6 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 powerful. This was Miss Georgiana Denham, 
 called * Georgie ' by her intimates ; a girl who 
 had entered the school at midsummer, and had 
 straightway taken her place high in the first 
 class. She was of Miss Hutton's age, and her 
 rival — with an amicable rivalry. 
 
 Winny's many cares kept her much apart 
 from her school-fellows in their hours of idle- 
 ness, and she had little knowledge of Miss 
 Denham, until a certain evening in the garden 
 when she ran a thorn into her hand, and some- 
 body called for Georgie to perform the opera- 
 tion of extracting it. Georgie produced a pair 
 of tweezers, took firm hold of the suffering 
 member, and drew out the thorn. Winny 
 looked at her wound first, then at her physician, 
 who was looking at her with some amusement. 
 The next day Miss Denham invited Miss 
 Winifred to walk with her, and they found 
 twenty things to talk about, concerning which 
 they had sentiments in common. Another day, 
 when Winny was going immediately after 
 dinner to apply herself to the correction of 
 juvenile exercises, she found that they had
 
 VARIABLE WEATHER. I 37 
 
 been removed from her desk and done, and 
 Georgia summoned her to enjoy the twenty 
 minutes of desultory chat which was an insti- 
 tution in favour of the complexions of the girls 
 who were not half-boarders. Winny could not 
 yield herself at once to such a dereliction of 
 duty, but Georgie was imperative, and when 
 Miss Hubbard descended to the schoolroom 
 from brief repose in her own sanctum, she 
 could hardly contain her indignant surprise 
 at the sight of Miss Winifred sitting in the 
 window seat, doing nothing but chatter. She 
 made a note of it, and watched to prevent a 
 repetition of the offence. But it was very 
 difficult to prevent a blameless pleasure that 
 Miss Denham's mind was set on. That young 
 lady had a suave manner, and a temper that 
 could not be provoked. She had taken a fancy 
 for Miss Winifred's company, and gave her 
 help under the rose that she might have it. 
 Winny was nothing loth — the attraction was 
 mutual. She was one of the three clever girls 
 of the school, and it was irksome to her to walk 
 for an hour and a half with rich Miss Cradock,
 
 I ^8 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 who was older than herself, but who was reputed 
 not to have two ideas to rub together ; or with 
 pretty Miss Otley, who never speculated upon 
 anything except what she should wear when 
 she was married — a topic on which Winny did 
 not feel, nor desire to feel, any interest. Thus 
 it came to pass that the second chapter of her 
 life at the Manor School was tolerable — more 
 than tolerable ; for though her work increased 
 rather than diminished, there was the sustain- 
 ing joy of friendship in the background of 
 which she could not be deprived. 
 
 These days when Winny Hesketh was 
 training for a governess were the days before 
 competitive examinations, and she was cut 
 short in many studies which she would have 
 been urged to persevere in had she been under 
 training now. When Mr Hollingshed saw her 
 back, he shoved aside somebody else's slate 
 and copy-book, to make room for hers in her 
 old place next to him, but Miss Winifred told 
 him, laughing, she could write and sum well 
 enough — so Mrs Brunton said. She was cur- 
 tailed next of those vexatious repetition lessons,
 
 VARIABLE WEATHER. I 39 
 
 and of English dictation — Enorlish readinof was 
 from the first pronounced not requisite for her. 
 In fact, her time was wanted for other pur- 
 poses. She had brought home from France 
 developed capabiHties of which all the teachers 
 availed themselves more or less for the easing 
 of their own burdens. She was at everybody's 
 beck and call, and the working-hours of the day 
 were swallowed up to the very crumbs. The last 
 thing to go was what Winny most delighted in 
 — the ' Subject.' Other girls seized on her old 
 manuscript-books as a possession, and it was a 
 bitter moment when Mrs Brunton laid down 
 her last, and turning to Miss Hubbard said : 
 *It is unnecessary for Miss Winifred to exercise 
 herself any longer in composition; she may give 
 it up, and a little m.ore of her time will be set 
 free for something else.' Poor Winny was 
 accustomed to ruminate her Subject, walking 
 with a silent girl by choice, and to write it 
 before the house was awake, so that there was 
 small profit in her deprivation. The only event 
 that happened was that now the reading aloud 
 of the other girls' Subjects was laid upon her —
 
 I40 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 two-and-twenty of them — and oh, the life they 
 led her because of her reading ! 
 
 The ceremonial took place every third 
 Tuesday night in the dining-room, and if any 
 of the Manor girls have since betaken them- 
 selves to literature they cannot have suffered 
 more from the asperity of critics than the sen- 
 sitive ones suffered then from the apprehension 
 of criticism. Even Miss Denham was nervous, 
 and kept her eyes concentrated on her glove 
 mending. When Miss Winifred was promoted 
 to reading the Subjects, there was a girl re- 
 cently entered into the first class who had a gift 
 of composition, and, from long practice in a 
 lower form, considerable skill — Miss Patrick, 
 a jerky, absent girl, whose hair was put up like 
 a hastily-constructed bird's nest, but who was 
 quite justified by her natural abilities in dis- 
 puting the chief prizes with Miss Hutton and 
 Miss Denham. 
 
 Miss Patrick ardently aspired to win the 
 Subject prize, most coveted distinction of all, 
 but her hand being difficult to decipher, Miss 
 Winifred occasionally stumbled at a word.
 
 VARIABLE WEATHER. I4I 
 
 and the effects of a well-turned sentence was 
 marred. Miss Patrick besought her, therefore, 
 that she would read over her Subject privately, 
 and Winny, for justice' sake, consented. Then 
 another girl, and another, and another, put in 
 the same plea for the same precaution on their 
 behalf, to all of whom Winny, in self-defence, 
 said, No — except to Miss Nina Mostyn, the 
 beauty of the school, a young lady of whom the 
 old dancing-master enthusiastically averred that 
 she had but to put out her foot, and she was 
 grace itself to look upon. To Miss Nina Mos- 
 tyn it was hard to say, No. Miss Denham was 
 devoted to her — everybody was devoted to her 
 in a greater or less degree. She had no parents. 
 There was some mystery about her origin. Her 
 talents were not conspicuous, her pride was 
 intense, and her temper exacting, but she pos- 
 sessed that inexplicable magic which fascinates 
 both sexes alike into a worshipful admiration. 
 Miss Winifred did her behests, and they were 
 neither few nor infrequent, with a mild humour 
 equally free from sarcasm and remonstrance. 
 She allowed Miss Nina to impose upon her as
 
 142 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 if she liked it. But necessity compelled that 
 this privilege should be kept exclusive. 
 
 Miss Patrick did not win the Subject prize 
 that half-year — there was time enough yet for 
 her to win Subject prizes, young as she was, and 
 only just promoted to the first class. It was 
 well that her over-weening emulation should 
 have a check. Mrs Brunton had a judicious 
 satisfaction in sending her clever girls home 
 when they left the Manor School with this 
 finest feather in their caps. Miss Hutton was 
 leaving next Easter, and would not compete for 
 it again. Maggie Forbes and pretty Miss 
 Otley were also leaving ; but they had no pre- 
 tensions, and Miss Hutton therefore carried 
 away the prize. 
 
 It was a grief to Winny Hesketh to anticipate 
 Mildred Hutton's departure, although she had 
 now Miss Denham for a friend, and Mildred 
 shared it. Her principal trait was a sweet 
 lovingness — that was the charm Winny felt in 
 her. She was talented, but so was Miss Patrick. 
 Mildred was good. She had a beneficent in- 
 fluence. Winny was very happy in that even-
 
 VARIABLE WEATHER. 1 43 
 
 ing hour of recreation when Mildred put her 
 arm round her, and they walked up and down 
 the long school room talking confidences. Mil- 
 dred wrote poetry, tender, religious. She had 
 a plan that some day Winny and she would 
 write a book ; Winny doing the practical part 
 of the business, the fun and satire, and she 
 infusing the sentiment and pathos — it was a 
 delightful project. 
 
 ' O Miss Hutton, Miss Winifred, do sit down! 
 you make me dizzy,' Miss Hubbard would pre- 
 sently cry ; then they would find a dusk corner 
 beyond the circle of the lamp-light, and sit down, 
 and go on inventing their plot. Or sometimes 
 Miss Denham would join them wnth Nina 
 Mostyn, and Mildred and Georgie would sing 
 a duet — they had both most beautiful voices. 
 
 Winny remembered these times afterwards 
 as times of exceeding comfort, Hke those Sunday 
 evenings long ago, when her Cousin Lucy 
 played her spiritual songs without words on 
 Mrs Mason's second-best piano. 
 
 Pretty Miss Odey did not return after the
 
 144 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 Christmas holidays, — the first news when the 
 school met again was that she was to be married 
 the next week to a wonderfully clever young 
 doctor who was taking up Dr Archer's practice 
 in Cotham. It was an excellent match, and 
 not so hasty as it appeared — their respective 
 families had settled it a year since. Miss 
 Patrick objected that the young lady was very 
 stupid— she could not even spell. Miss Den- 
 ham rejoined that spelling did not matter — she 
 was nearly nineteen, and wore her tucker charm- 
 ingly. Mrs Brunton observed on her return 
 from the wedding-breakfast that it was the 
 proudest day of her life, and the bride looked 
 as lovely as it was possible for bride to do, 
 clothed in white satin and swan's down, on a 
 frosty January morning. The bridegroom was 
 tall, and had made an effective figure at church 
 — he allowed his beard to grow in the modern 
 fashion, and it gave him an air of almost military 
 distinction. Perhaps it was a little discourage- 
 ment to the clever girls to witness the social 
 success of their late companion who had enjoyed 
 a reputation for dulness second to none. How-
 
 VARIABLE WEATHER. 1 45 
 
 ever, there was a half-holiday, a gala-tea with 
 a sumptuous cake sent by the bride's father, 
 and a dance in the evening, so everybody was 
 ultimately satisfied. 
 
 The talk round the fire amongst the elder 
 girls at curling-hair time turned on marriage, 
 as was not unnatural. The Manor girls, as a 
 rule, did marry, and soon — and not seldom, 
 each other's brothers. Mildred Hutton heard 
 all, and said nothing. Miss Cradock was the 
 chief speaker. Miss Denham gazed abstractedly 
 into the fire. Nina Mostyn stated that a gipsy 
 had once told her fortune — she was born to be 
 a princess ; therefore she must marry a prince, 
 of course, and she would have her wedding in 
 September, when she could wear a crown of 
 myrtle, cut from the bush in blossom. Nina 
 had infinite taste in the wearing of floral adorn- 
 ments. A rose in her hair was a rose in glory. 
 ' And what shall you wear, Georgie ? ' she asked, 
 bending, to look in her friend's face. 
 
 * Rue,' was Miss Denham's laconic answer. 
 
 Everybody laughed, and then Miss Cradock, 
 growing venturesome, exclaimed : ' I guess who 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 146 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 will be married first of us! — either Mildred 
 Hutton will, or else Miss Winifred.' 
 
 Mildred blushed softly, and smiled, but still 
 held her peace. Winny looked up with her lip 
 in full curl, but did not condescend to a rejoinder. 
 Miss Cradock wagged her head with sly signifi- 
 cance. She was felt to be impertinent. She 
 would not have done that had not her curious 
 imagination led her to select a lover for each of 
 the two young ladies she had named. Miss Den- 
 ham remarked that there were persons who never 
 knew when to be silent — the fire was getting low, 
 and perhaps, they might as well all go to bed. 
 
 After Easter there was a vacuum in the 
 school. Mildred Hutton was gone; so was 
 Maggie Forbes, ^and Miss Nina Mostyn had 
 been unexpectedly called for, and sent to Paris 
 to finish her education. 
 
 The serious rivalry of the elder class was 
 now reduced to Miss Denhamand Miss Patrick. 
 Miss Denham and Miss Winifred were 'for 
 ever together,' as Miss Hubbard largely ex- 
 pressed it. They would have been wiser had
 
 VARIABLE WEATHER. 147 
 
 they chosen each a second comrade. A whisper 
 was circulating for weeks before they heard it, 
 to the effect that Miss Winifred helped Miss 
 Denhani, and * gave her ideas ' for her Subjects 
 — and that was the reason why she was always 
 put down first, and why Mrs Brunton com- 
 mended her composition so highly. Miss 
 Hubbard listened, and was inclined to believe, 
 though she had never known either of the two 
 accused guilty of a mean action. Mrs Brunton 
 was informed, and negatived the supposition by 
 a decisive shake of the head. Nevertheless, 
 she mentioned it — which was a pity — and men- 
 tioned it publicly on the occasion of the next 
 reading, when she took the Subjects of Miss 
 Denham and Miss Patrick again into her own 
 hands. Miss Denham's was pronounced the 
 best. Mrs Brunton entered it as such in the 
 class-book, and laying down her pen, looked 
 across the table at the inseparable friends, 
 sitting side by side as usual, and said : * I trust. 
 Miss Georgiana, that it is all your own — that 
 you are not in the practice of receiving help 
 from Miss Winifred ? '
 
 148 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 Miss Georglana reddened to her finger tips. 
 She just said : 'No, ma'am,' and her eyes 
 reverted to her glove-needle. Miss Winifred 
 said nothing, but her countenance was expres- 
 sive of that keen contempt which her music- 
 master had once told her she could make felt 
 without a word spoken. 
 
 Mrs Brunton was satisfied. But amongst the 
 immature heads more protestation on the part 
 of Miss Denham would have been more con- 
 clusive. As for Miss Winifred, she never did 
 protest. If she had been accused of robbing a 
 church, she would probably have lifted her eye- 
 brows and have said, ' Oh, indeed ? ' — she was 
 called too proud to defend herself. But Miss 
 Denham loved approbation ; it was as the breath 
 of her nostrils, she could accomplish nothing 
 successfully without it. And this was a most 
 humiliating query that Mrs Brunton had put to 
 her — ' whether she was in the practice of receiv- 
 ing help from Miss Winifred ?' 
 
 Georgie had a streak of genius. She could 
 do what Winny could not. Winny had dis- 
 covered and acknowledged this, and her
 
 VARIABLE WEATHER. 1 49 
 
 ungrudging appreciation of Georgle's mental 
 power was the permanent ground of their 
 friendship. Winny could work steadily and 
 take long pains, but Georgie in one spurt of 
 inspiration could do more, and better than she. 
 Between themselves this was tacitly agreed 
 upon, but the majority of their companions 
 were to be excused if they did not see it, while 
 they were witnesses to Miss Denham's severe 
 course of study, and to Miss Winifred's almost 
 total emancipation from the pains of learning. 
 
 When the reading of the Subjects was over 
 there was still half-an-hour before tea-time. It 
 was a delicious evening at the end of August, 
 and Miss Hubbard gave everybody leave to go 
 into the garden. It w^as a picturesque old 
 garden, with shady trees upon the grass, and 
 a peep of the river from the upper walk. 
 Georgie went quickly out, and she did not call 
 for Winny — she joined herself to Miss Clare, 
 who had succeeded to Nina Mostyn's role of 
 beauty ; but she was an ordinary beauty of the 
 apple-faced, round-eyed type, very wholesome, 
 but quite destitute of charm. Winny saw them.
 
 150 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 and took her basket and scissors to snip off 
 dead roses in the enclosed parterres before the 
 window of Mrs Brunton's private parlour — a 
 soothing occupation to which she devoted her- 
 self when she wished to escape from indifferent 
 company. But to-night she did not enjoy her 
 aloneness. She was hurt and perplexed and 
 abashed. Miss Cradock said to her: * Georgie is 
 affronted ' — but Winny was not inclined to dis- 
 cuss Georgie with Miss Cradock. The tea- 
 bell rang, and the girls trooped indoors. 
 
 It was quite possible, without any quarrel or 
 declaration of war, for the two friends to stand 
 aloof. Winny was undemonstrative. She 
 waited for Georgie's invitation to walk and talk 
 with her — she was the receptive one, and 
 claimed nothing. When she had not been 
 claimed herself for an entire week, she ceased 
 to expect anything. Miss Patrick took notice 
 of their silent alienation, and asked Miss Wini- 
 fred what it meant. 
 
 * It means that Miss Denham has been in- 
 sulted, and will give you no more cause for 
 suspicion,' said Miss Winifred.
 
 VARIABLE WEATHER. I 5 I 
 
 * But you might have helped her — It would 
 not have been fair to me, but you might, you 
 know. You help everybody that asks you/ 
 
 ' Miss Denham Is not everybody/ said Winny, 
 and would say no more. 
 
 Georgie's next Subject was not the best. Miss 
 Patrick took the good mark. And she took it 
 again in October, which made the rivals even, 
 and Georgle announced that she did not care 
 whether she won the prize or not. It was an 
 annual prize given at Christmas. Three more 
 Subjects were to come before the breaking up. 
 There was no question now whether Miss 
 Denham had help of Miss Winifred or not ; 
 they were as conspicuous by their distance as 
 they had been formerly by their propinquity. 
 
 Once — twice — Georgie made an advance 
 towards a renewal of love. Winny was going 
 tiredly upstairs with a heavy music-folio under 
 her arm. Georgie coming behind with two 
 steps at a time, overtook her, threw her arm 
 round her neck, and gave her a kiss. Winny 
 was passive, except that the little colour she 
 had vanished. The second time was in the
 
 152 THIS WORK- A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 schoolroom towards dusk — Georgie had no- 
 thing to do. Winny had a prodigious pile of 
 dictations to go over. She was about to lift 
 them from Miss Hubbard's table to a table 
 nearer the window, when Georgie rushed across 
 the room, and carried them for her. Georgie 
 was as big and strong again as Winny, and 
 when they were friends she watched to pay her 
 these amiable attentions. Winny followed the 
 slates, and thanked her, but when Georgie pro- 
 duced a slate-pencil, and laid a hand on one of 
 the dictations with a view to correct it, Winny 
 looked up and said quietly : ' I have plenty of 
 time to correct them all myself.' Georgie 
 snatched away her hand as if the slate burnt 
 her, and with a flush all over her face went off 
 to Miss Clare. Winny knew that she had 
 thrown away an opportunity of reconciliation ; 
 and Miss Cradock wondered whether Miss 
 Denham stood in awe of Miss Winifred. 
 
 There was a little girl of good family lately 
 come to the school, who gave herself airs on 
 her breeding. She was beholden for many 
 kind offices to Miss Winifred, for which she
 
 VARIABLE WEATHER. I 5 3 
 
 gave her no thanks, using them as her right, 
 and marking her sense of the half-boarder s 
 position by requiring them with a certain 
 impatience of tone if they were not offered ; 
 and one day she was so ill-advised as to give 
 Miss Winifred a rough answer when told that 
 she must wait. Winny said nothing, but a 
 minute or two after she had to leave the school- 
 room, and then Miss Denham, who had been 
 observant of the scene, said to the new young 
 lady : * It is not the custom of this place to be 
 insolent. If you wish Miss Winifred to help 
 you, I advise you to go to her, and tell her 
 you are sorry that you were so rude.' The 
 little girl was quite sure she should not. Miss 
 Patrick promised her that she would soon find 
 her level ; and the next day when Miss Wini- 
 fred was about to hear the child practise her 
 music-lesson, Mrs Brunton interposed, and 
 said : * That young lady must dispense with 
 your services, Miss Winifred, since she does 
 not thank you for them.' And that word was 
 final. Winnie was told, of course, how Georgie 
 had stood up for her, but it made no difference
 
 154 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 in their behaviour to each other. They had 
 fallen into a habit of proud mutual avoid- 
 ance. 
 
 As the winter weather encroached on the fine 
 days of autumn, the pleasant saunterings in the 
 garden were exchanged for brisk parades along 
 the river, and up and down the Hoi worth Road. 
 When the fallen leaves lay thick on the dank 
 garden-paths, and whirled in heaps about the 
 court-yard, November was come, and Christ- 
 mas was not far off. There was no Mildred 
 Hutton to make sweet the evening hour of 
 recreation for Winny now, and she took refuge 
 in her work. She was never to be seen hang- 
 ing about in idle vacuity. Georgie would 
 vStare at her sometimes for ever so long, and 
 ever so drearily. It was quite true that she had 
 given up caring whether she won that Subject 
 prize or not, and being delivered from over- 
 anxiety she did win it — that is, she was made 
 sure of it by taking the first place on the two 
 next ensuing occasions. Miss Patrick accepted 
 her defeat with more than average philosophy, 
 reflecting that she had yet another year to stay
 
 VARIABLE WEATHER. 1 55 
 
 at school, and that Miss Denham was leaving 
 at the holidays. Georgie was leaving and 
 Winny was leaving, conditionally on a fit 
 situation as governess being found for her 
 after Christmas. Their separation drew very 
 near. Georo^ie's affronted airs had bes^un it, 
 Winny's stoical airs had perpetuated it — but 
 Winny was glad, so glad when Georgie's 
 success was secured, that she had to go away 
 by herself and cry — and Winny was not given 
 to cr^nng. 
 
 It was soon after this — on a fine Saturday 
 afternoon at the beginning of December, when 
 all the world was amusing itself except Miss 
 Winifred, who was darning a piece of fine lace 
 for Mrs Brunton — that Eccles threw open the 
 school-room door, and announced with a beam- 
 ing face, * Visitors for the young ladies ! ' and 
 pretty Miss Otley that was, Mrs Lassells now, 
 walked in, followed by a stately nurse bearing a 
 baby in glorious apparel. All the school broke 
 out into smiles and congratulations. Mrs 
 Lassells was enthroned on Mrs Brunton's own 
 chair, Mrs Brunton's own footstool was given
 
 156 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 her, and the baby being laid in her lap, girls 
 went down on their knees, and worshipped 
 it. 
 
 ' It is a boy,' said she. * Give me room, and 
 I will let you see his foots — his blessed little 
 foots! They're so sweet!' And the blessed 
 little foots being revealed, girls kissed them 
 with rapture. 
 
 Miss Denham stood in the outer circle, 
 looking on with sedate approval. There was a 
 sort of impression in the school that babies 
 were not much in Georgie's way — that she 
 cared more for books — but Mrs Lassells ven- 
 tured to look to her for some expression of 
 feeling, and Georgie said, * It is a meritorious 
 production, and does you credit.' 
 
 * Ah, now, you are making fun, I know you 
 are,' remonstrated the mother of the baby. 
 
 * Not at all. I am admiring the energy of 
 character that was always latent in you, and 
 that marriage has so happily developed. You 
 are an honour to the school. You have fulfilled 
 the whole duty of woman,' said Georgie with 
 imperturbable gravity.
 
 VARIABLE WEATHER. I 5 7 
 
 'And she would not have done it better 
 even if she could spell cataclysm ! ' cried Miss 
 Patrick, who occasionally said a stupid thing — 
 the youngest child present felt that this was 
 a very stupid thing. 
 
 The married woman blushed, laughed, and 
 with a natural sequence of ideas, asked : 'Where 
 is Miss Winifred?' 
 
 ' Here — behind you,' said Winny, who had 
 come to look at the baby over his mother's 
 shoulder. ' I think he's wonderful ! ' 
 
 * Thank you, Miss Winifred ! One word 
 of praise from you is worth ten. Take a good 
 kiss ! ' Winny accepted baby's bounty, and he 
 then intimated his wish for a chanfje of 
 scene. The nurse carried him off, and his 
 mother, eager to follow, began to shake hands 
 all round. When she came to Miss Denham 
 something struck her, and glancing at Miss 
 Winifred, she asked : ' Have you two fallen 
 out ? You were as loving as turtles when I 
 left' 
 
 * And what makes you suppose we are less 
 loving than turtles now ? ' said Miss Denham
 
 158 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 as If the supposition were the height of absur- 
 dity. 
 
 ' Oh, I don't know — nothing. Only, if you 
 had, it is always wise to be a little foolish In 
 love — forgiving, and all that. Good bye.' 
 
 With a degree of confusion of face amongst 
 principals and assistants the remark passed ; 
 Miss Patrick only observing after Mrs Lassells 
 was gone, that she could not have spoken more 
 sagely If she had been an oracle — * Could she 
 now, Miss Denham ? Could she. Miss Wini- 
 fred ? ' Neither of the authorities appealed to 
 vouchsafed an answer. 
 
 In the last week of the half year the last 
 Subjects were read, and the final award was to 
 Miss Denham again. She took the prize — she 
 took the three first class prizes, and in a modest, 
 complacent fashion, she vastly enjoyed her 
 triumph — she said her papa would be so pleased. 
 But one thing was wanting to it — there is 
 always one thing wanting to perfect our joy. 
 Miss Winifred offered no felicitations. 
 
 * I'm sure. In her heart she is as glad as glad 
 can be,' little Myra assured the great clever girl.
 
 VARIABLE WEATHER. I 59 
 
 ' I wish she'd tell me so ! ' said Georgie. 
 
 But Winny had grown shy of Georgie. They 
 w^ent home on the breaking-up day without so 
 much as a formal leave-taking — better none 
 than that, Georgie said. And they both lived 
 In Gotham.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 CHECKS ON THE THRESHOLD. 
 
 Mrs Hesketh had not doubted, Winny had not 
 doubted, that a suitable situation as governess 
 would be found for her when it was wanted. 
 But the Christmas holidays elapsed without a 
 single application for her services having been 
 made to Mrs Brunton, though she had circulated 
 a notice amongst her patrons and patronesses 
 that she had a capable young governess to 
 recommend. 
 
 Delphine Mercier had come back from 
 Switzerland, and was already in full occupation 
 as a visiting teacher, acting in some cases as 
 substitute for her father, but also taking classes 
 on her own account. As early as eight o'clock 
 on snowy, blowy mornings, Winny Hesketh 
 saw her crossing Castle Green, on her way to a 
 house a mile and a half out of the town, where
 
 CHECKS ON THE THRESHOLD. l6l 
 
 she officiated as governess to a numerous mixed 
 young family for eighty pounds a year. She 
 dined there, and at four of the afternoon was 
 back in Gotham giving lessons in drawing and 
 music, French, German, and Latin at various 
 places. She was constantly busy until nine 
 o'clock in the evening, either abroad or at home, 
 and she told Winny that she was earning over 
 two hundred a year. She was an admirable 
 teacher, a sensible, practical girl, with no non- 
 sense about her. Winny expressed a wish that 
 she could do as Delphine did. Delphine shook 
 her head ; she did not exactly ask Winny where 
 was her fitness for doing as she did, but she 
 intimated something very like that. Winny 
 knew that she knew very little. 
 
 * I shall have to take quite small children — 
 if I have not much else I have patience,' she 
 said to Delphine. But she was tr}ang to make 
 up for her deficiencies by diligent reading ; and 
 Mr Anderson still gave her music lessons, though 
 he said she would never be a performer. 
 
 Mrs Hesketh was disappointed that Winny 
 was not immediately in demand. She was 
 
 VOL. L L
 
 I 62 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 easily discouraged on her daughter's account — 
 much more easily than she had ever been on 
 her own. She was afraid that it had been a 
 mistake to send her to the Manor, where she 
 had drudged for others rather than learned her- 
 self; and she was easily persuaded to yield to 
 Winny's desire to stay at home, and pursue her 
 studies there instead of going back to the school 
 at the end of the holidays. But six weeks after 
 the re-assembling of the girls, Mrs Brunton 
 called one morning at the house on Castle Green 
 for the purpose of soliciting Miss Winifred's 
 return for a week or two, until she could meet 
 with another efficient half-boarder — the young 
 lady she had taken after Christmas in that 
 capacity was of no use at all, and Miss Hubbard 
 and Mademoiselle were literally worn out for 
 want of help. Winny could not refuse the re- 
 quest, and she went the same evening. But 
 the week or two ran on to Midsummer, and 
 she was not released. 
 
 Twice in the course of the half-year the hopes 
 of an engagement dawned upon her, but only 
 to be summarily extinguished. On the first
 
 CHECKS ON THE THRESHOLD. IO3 
 
 occasion she was called to Mrs Brunton's 
 parlour to play a piece for the satisfaction of a 
 plump and genial lady, who was seeking a 
 ofoverness for three little nieces who had been 
 consigned to her from India. She spoke kindly 
 to Winny, and assured her the piece was very 
 neatly executed, but when the girl was gone 
 out, she said : ' My dear Mrs Brunton, I believe 
 all the good you tell me of her, but it would 
 never do — consider my grown-up sons.' 
 
 On the second occasion an eneaeement was 
 all but concluded for her by letter — an eneaee- 
 ment to go for four years to Quebec, her ex- 
 penses out and home being paid her, and an 
 annual salary of sixty pounds. Her mother 
 was willing that she should go, and Winny had 
 made her up mind that she was going, when one 
 day there arrived at Gotham the gentleman 
 with whom rested the responsibility of engaging 
 her on his daughter's behalf, and conveying her 
 to Quebec. He was a greybeard soldier, ver}^ 
 tall, very formal, not ungentle, an old man of 
 the world. He sat in a chair looking at her 
 with a grave humorous smile for nearly a minute,
 
 164 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 and Winny read rejection in his eyes. He said 
 she was too much of a child herself yet to go 
 so far away from her mother. 
 
 ' Miss Hesketh is nearly eighteen, and her 
 fault of youth will diminish every day,' urged 
 Mrs Brunton ; and Winny pleaded that her 
 mother had consented to her making the voyage. 
 But the greybeard had said his say. 
 
 'Another failure I hear, Miss Winifred,' Mr 
 Anderson observed that afternoon, shaking 
 hands when she came to her music-lesson. 
 
 'Yes. I don't think anybody will have me 
 who sees me beforehand,' replied she. 
 
 * Don't distress yourself about that — if you 
 are not cut out for a governess you will make 
 somebody a capital wife,' he rejoined. 
 
 Miss Winifred withdrew her hand coldly — 
 so coldly that if the music-master had ever been 
 tempted to make her a speech of the sort before, 
 he was not encouraged to make her a speech 
 of the sort again. Winny did not much like 
 Mr Anderson. 
 
 When young folks encounter a persistent run 
 of ill-luck they are apt to suppose that there
 
 CHECKS ON THE THRESHOLD. 1 65 
 
 must be a fault in themselves, though they may 
 say in extenuation that they cannot help it. 
 Winny Hesketh certainly could not help the 
 blindness to her merits of people wanting go- 
 vernesses, but it dejected her at odd moments 
 — and then again she had a reckless fit. 
 
 * Good-bye, Miss Winifred, God bless you ! 
 I hope you will goX, on,' Miss Hubbard said to 
 her at the last, and shook her head, and sighed. 
 Winny sighed too — and then she echoed the 
 faint hope expressed on her behalf with a 
 vivacity that caused the woman of narrow 
 experience to be more and more afraid for 
 her — an unconverted heart. 
 
 Miss Hubbard and Miss Winifred had not 
 grown in love, but habit had made them more 
 tolerant. Miss Hubbard lived in expectation 
 of the Millennium, and was of the same religion 
 as Winny's uncle Hay land — with the difference 
 that the yoke of everlasting toil, without sym- 
 pathy and without relief, makes in the evidences 
 of it acting on a harsh character. Winny re- 
 membered her afterwards with pity for her hard, 
 dull life — but also with a devout prayer that
 
 1 66 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 hardness and dulness in her own lot might 
 never pervert her to a temper so oppressive 
 and unjust as that which had made the misery 
 of her school-days. 
 
 It was July, and very hot weather in Cotham. 
 Families of gentility had abandoned its sun- 
 baked streets for the refreshing breezes of the 
 sea. The widow Hesketh had never been 
 accustomed to need them, and Winny and she 
 were left on Castle Green almost by themselves. 
 They walked out one evening to Holworth 
 Grange to find the house shut up, and its 
 owners gone away for two months. Even Miss 
 Baxter had started off into the country to visit 
 her cousins at Wimpleburn. Mr Andrews 
 also was away, prolonging his annual holiday, 
 and Winny enjoyed his sitting-room — the cool- 
 est, airiest room in the house, with its north 
 window fronting the river. 
 
 Into this quiet pause of existence entered 
 Dick from London — an unsatisfactory young 
 fellow, a very unsatisfactory young fellow 
 indeed, his uncle Hayland wrote to his
 
 CHECKS ON THE THRESHOLD. I 67 
 
 mother with conscientious explicltness. Dick 
 was scarcely so nice-looking as he had promised 
 to be ; he was lively and thoughtless, and 
 perfectly selfish. He did not stay much at 
 home, and never In the evening. Winny was 
 surprised when her mother said she did not 
 know where he went. Winny asked him, and 
 Dick told her little girls ought not to be in- 
 quisitive. His holiday was for a month, and 
 he was not sorry when it was over — he found 
 Gotham and his mother s house very slow and 
 dull. But he had taken Winny for a long walk 
 sometimes, and once he had rowed her on the 
 river In a boat, and she missed him when he 
 was gone. Her mother suggested that she 
 would do well to keep up these walks alone, 
 and not mope Indoors so much ; and then 
 Winny used to go off by herself, and loiter 
 hours away In the fields and lanes, and by the 
 waterside, but always she saw her mother's cap 
 above the parlour-blind, watching for her 
 return if she loitered late. The widow desired 
 that Winny should acquire the habit of cour- 
 age and self-dependence betimes, but she could
 
 1 68 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 not divest herself of the mother-care for her 
 woman-child. It had been very easy talking, 
 but here was she, armed and equipped for the 
 battle of life, and circumstances singing truce 
 to her all this while ! 
 
 Winny was not down-hearted though there 
 was no opening in her prospects. She had 
 often her pen in her hand, sometimes to indite 
 a letter to Mildred Hutton, who had opened a 
 brisk correspondence with her since Christmas ; 
 and sometimes to write pages of invention, 
 which the widow Hesketh eyed askance, and 
 privately condemned as idleness. She liked to 
 see Winny drawing, or with a big volume of 
 Hume or Gibbon or Rollin on the table before 
 her, or to hear her practising a serious sonata ; 
 then she knew she was doing some good, but 
 that scribbling she suspected. Winny would 
 hide it away when she heard her mother com- 
 ing, or else she would retreat with it to the 
 house-top, where a lofty dormer in a queer little 
 attic gave her an out-look far and wide over the 
 dusk clustered roofs and chimney-pots of the 
 ancient town, with glimpses of green gardens
 
 CHECKS OX THE THRESHOLD. 1 69 
 
 hidden among the houses. Her mother asked 
 why she betook herself up there ? Because it 
 was so still, she said, and she could see to such 
 a distance. She might have said too — had she 
 known it — that there was a mystery in the 
 heavenly silences above the life of the town 
 that fed her imagination. Yes. If Winny had 
 her sad hours of wishful expectation, waiting 
 for what did not come, and witnessing the 
 almost impatient anxiety of her mother, she 
 had her hours of refuge in the safe haven of 
 her own mind where no trouble followed her, 
 and flights of fancy into regions unattainable 
 by the gnat swarm of petty cares. 
 
 If any reader be looking anxiously for the 
 love-story to begin — that love-story without 
 which no woman's life is worthy to be written 
 — let me plead for patience a little longer. 
 Winny Hesketh's love-story occupied but a 
 brief time when she came to it, and she did 
 not come to it yet. Her attachment to INIiss 
 Denham had given her a mild foretaste of the 
 joys, the pains, and penalties of passion. There
 
 I 70 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 is no measure In the romance of girls, and 
 Winny fancied that she could never suffer 
 more acutely even if one day she should have 
 a lover who would use her ill. For she was 
 ardently affectionate, and had scarcely known 
 how dearly she loved Georgle until Georgle put 
 her aside. It seemed by what followed that she 
 was not one to be whistled back at the idle 
 movement of caprice; but when she thought 
 now of Georgle's advances towards a reconci- 
 liation, she blamed herself for not having had 
 the confidence to meet them half-way. 
 
 Miss Denham was absent from Gotham for 
 several months that spring and summer, but 
 in July, when the rest of the world was gone 
 to the sea, she came home. Daily she rode 
 abroad attended by an old groom, and almost 
 daily she rode across Castle Green, and stared 
 at Mrs Hesketh's parlour window. Winny 
 often saw her, but she never saw Winny until 
 one sultry morning on the Holworth Road, 
 when Winny was out for a long ramble, and 
 she overtook and passed her without looking 
 round. She put her horse to a canter, kicking
 
 CHECKS ON THE THRESHOLD. I 7 I 
 
 Up a fine dust, and Winny's heart was greatly 
 straightened. But she went on, and then she 
 saw that Georgie was returning at a leisure 
 pace. She was returning, and evidently bent 
 on challenging the pale pedestrian, who smiled 
 involuntarily as their eyes met. ' Let us be 
 friends again, Winny,' said Miss Denham, 
 reaching down her hand. * Yes,' said Winny, 
 giving hers. And they had the wisdom to 
 leave explanation alone, both then and for ever 
 afterwards. 
 
 Georgie turned again, reined in her horse, 
 and Winny walked alongside her for a blissful 
 hour. They went beyond the Grange, as far 
 as the old mill and the weir upon the Foss 
 that young Cairns had sketched. Rarely had 
 Winny walked so far before — she saw the 
 picture just as he had drawn it, and wondered 
 for a moment what had become of him — he 
 was gone from Gotham long since. Before the 
 friends parted a next meeting was arranged, 
 and these meetings soon became frequent 
 enough to add a distinct happiness to Winny 
 Hesketh's life. By and by Georgie called to
 
 172 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 see her at home, and brought her flowers and 
 books, and was her loving comrade again. 
 The widow Hesketh approved the intimacy, 
 sent them in coffee, and left them to their own 
 company. They never tired one another. 
 Whatever intellectual fineness there was in 
 either the other had the touch that brought 
 it out. They discoursed of books chiefly, and 
 perhaps Winny confided a little of what she 
 wrote in the attic commanding the neighbours 
 roofs. Georgie's studies and diversions were 
 of a harder type, taking a divergent line to- 
 wards the masculine. A poor curate was 
 giving her lessons in Latin, Greek, and mathe- 
 matics, and she was the favourite child of 
 her father, the leading lawyer of Gotham. 
 Winny had to listen more than she talked, 
 and she tried to be interested in Georgie's 
 pet subjects, because they were Georgie's, 
 more than because she understood them. 
 One day she went by invitation to visit her 
 friend at her own house, and was shown to 
 Georgie's sanctum at the end of a long passage, 
 remote from the family-rooms. And good
 
 CHECKS ON THE THRESHOLD. I "J 2^ 
 
 reason why. Georgie was engaged with the 
 bones of a sparrow. There was a piano in 
 her den, but there was a galvanic battery also, 
 and queer shapes of glass and metal, and 
 queerer things in bottles — queer smells, too, 
 that recalled Miss Baxter's shop — many 
 matters, in fact, to Winny totally incompre- 
 hensible, but which probably witnessed to the 
 chemical and other experiments of their owner. 
 Winny opened a volume on the table at a plate 
 of the human figure showing the muscles : ' O 
 Georgie! what's this? It's anatomy!' cried 
 she. 
 
 ' It is St Bartholomew — shut it up, quick,' 
 said Georgie. * Be satisfied to know that you 
 are fearfully and wonderfully made, and leave 
 the how and the why to stronger nerves.' 
 
 ' Indeed, I'm willing ! I never could remem- 
 ber which was which of auricles and ventricles 
 in Blair's Preceptor,' said Winny, clapping up 
 the awful tome with hasty obedience. ' But 
 are you going to be a doctor, Georgie ? ' she 
 inquired amazed. 
 
 * There's no chance ! I would be a physician
 
 I 74 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 if I were of the other sex — I mean to learn all 
 I can as it is. Quietly, of course.' 
 
 ' If ever I am ill, Til come to you to be 
 cured. You would not hurt me more than you 
 could help, Georgie ? ' 
 
 Georgie, with her pre-occupied face over the 
 bones of the sparrow, her wide forehead, level 
 brows, and close coils of dark hair looked very 
 student-like, indeed. Winny told her so. Then 
 Georgie put aside her work, and answered 
 gaily : ' That is why you are fond of me, 
 Winny — we are opposites. Now, shall I sing 
 for you, or will you go into the garden ? ' 
 Winny would be sung to first, and go into the 
 garden afterwards ; and when she went home, 
 she went laden with flowers and carrying a big 
 book that Georgie laid orders upon her to 
 read with utmost carefulness. It was the 
 earliest of those famous volumes that came 
 out under the name of ' A Graduate of Oxford.' 
 
 Winny Hesketh felt no vacancy in her days 
 now. The Manor School re-assembled in 
 August, but she had done with it. Mrs Brunton 
 intimated that she would be better employed
 
 CHECKS ON THE THRESHOLD. I 75 
 
 in her former work than Hving Idly at home, 
 but Mrs Hesketh repHed that Winny occupied 
 herself from morning till night, and was pre- 
 paring her outfit against the time when a 
 situation for her turned up. The widow had 
 been displeased that Mrs Brunton made Winny 
 no recompense for her last half-year's services 
 — except an old bonnet of violet velvet and 
 satin, which her mother Indignantly made over 
 to the milkman's wife — a wiggy old woman, 
 fond of finery, whom it admirably became. 
 * Mrs Brunton acquits herself cheaply of an 
 obligation — other people will serve you the 
 same, Winny, if you allow it,' said she. ' It 
 will be time enouorh to wear cast clothinor when 
 
 o o 
 
 you are hopelessly poor, and out of luck.' 
 
 As the summer declined and the evenings 
 lengthened, Winny was less at her books, and 
 more at her needle. She was not so averse to it 
 now, because she could think out her thoughts 
 as she sewed. But she begun to long for a 
 situation, and to weary of the insupportable 
 burden of nothing to do — as those who must 
 work for a living regard unprofitable waiting.
 
 I 76 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 She had never had the spending of money, and 
 imagined that it would go much further than it 
 will. Her mother had been very handsome in 
 the provision of underclothing for her start in 
 life, but Winny had nice notions of cambric and 
 lace, and wanted more of the dainty devices of 
 dress than she had the materials to compose. 
 She did not reflect whether, as a governess, she 
 would need them, but she asked for more. 
 Then her mother told her all that she had to 
 live upon. Winny had no means of making 
 comparisons, but it sounded very little. 
 
 * I counted on your being able to clothe and 
 maintain yourself, once you had done with 
 school,' said the widow. * You shall have 
 whatever is necessary for a beginning, but 
 cambric is ten shillings the yard, and fine thread 
 lace ' 
 
 Winny was ashamed of her greediness, and 
 said so. But the next day her mother pro- 
 duced the key of the yellow chest, and told her 
 where to seek, and she would find Dick's and 
 her own baby-things, and gave her leave to pick 
 off the lace cap-borders, and to make what she
 
 CHECKS ON THE THRESHOLD. I 77 
 
 could of the pretty embroidered and tucked 
 frocks. Winny did it cheerfully, and wrought 
 for herself an array of frills, tuckers, cuffs, 
 and chemisettes that her mother said would 
 long outlast their fashion, and wear for many, 
 many years. 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 A BEGINNING. 
 
 It Is a long lane that never has a turn. Winny 
 Hesketh came to a turn in hers in September, 
 almost as soon as the tuckers and frills were 
 ready. She had been that afternoon to Miss 
 Baxter's for the household tea and coffee, and 
 was approaching her mothers door In one 
 direction as a tall and handsome lady reached 
 it from another. They met at the step, and 
 looked one at the other. 
 
 ' This is Mrs Hesketh's house ? Perhaps 
 you are Miss Winifred ? ' the lady said. And 
 Winny said, * Yes ; ' her heart leaping, eyes 
 brightening, colour rising at the sight of this 
 personage, who had all the air of seeking a 
 governess, and of having found her. 
 
 Winny opened the front door and the parlour 
 door, and the strano^er walked In. The widow
 
 A BEGINNING. 179 
 
 Hesketh was seated at a round table in the 
 window with her spectacles on, reading a book 
 — it was come to spectacle-time with the widow 
 Hesketh, though her soft brown eyes had lost 
 none of their beauty. She rose with a grave 
 dignity, and recognised the Honourable Mrs 
 Broome of Hall Green. Winny offered the 
 lady a chair opposite her mother's, and then 
 took one herself at a respectful, convenient 
 distance. 
 
 Mrs Broome told her business in a few words. 
 She wanted a young person with a good accent 
 and a knowledge of music as sub-governess to 
 her four daughters, to act under the direction 
 of a French lady who had charge of their edu- 
 cation. The young person would have oppor- 
 tunities of self-improvement, and these oppor- 
 tunities Mrs Broome offered in lieu of salary. 
 
 Winny watched her mother's face for the 
 effect of this proposal. There was no visible 
 emotional effect : the widow had a well-ofuarded 
 countenance. When Mrs Broome had spoken, 
 there was a perceptible silence. Then Mrs 
 Hesketh said in her quiet, deliberate way : ' I
 
 l8o THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 cannot let my daughter go anywhere without 
 salary. She must have, at least, sufficient to 
 clothe herself.' 
 
 Mrs Broome represented that the advan- 
 tages of a beginning in her family would be 
 more than an equivalent. Mrs Hesketh 
 concisely replied that it would not suit her 
 circumstances to be at any charges for her 
 child when her services were at the disposal of 
 strangers. At length, Mrs Broome mentioned 
 ten pounds as a sum that it was impossible she 
 should exceed. Winny waited a minute to give 
 her mother time to answer, but the widow 
 answered only with an appealing gesture to 
 Winny, whose countenance was radiant with 
 fun and mischief. * Never mind, mother, I can 
 make it do,' said she. To which her mother 
 rejoined : ' You will find it very small doing, 
 Winny.' 
 
 Mrs Broome was not accustomed to this 
 ease of inferior persons in her presence, and her 
 manner became less affable. She glanced from 
 mother to daughter with a degree of surprise. 
 If the mother thought that her daughter's
 
 A BEGINNING. I S I 
 
 services were grievously undervalued, the 
 daughter was clearly moved to mirth by the 
 comic aspect of her own depreciation — ISliss 
 Winifred had, however, been earnestly recom- 
 mended to her as an assiduous and capable 
 young person, and Mrs Broome was too 
 prudent to miss such an acquisition because 
 of an unseasonable sprightliness. Winny was 
 engaged by her at this munificent salary of ten 
 pounds, to go to Hall Green on the first of 
 October. Hall Green was only five miles dis- 
 tant from Gotham, and as there was no public 
 conveyance except the carrier's cart, Mrs 
 Broome said the carriage should call for her in 
 the afternoon of the day fixed, weather per- 
 mitting. 
 
 ' Launched, at last ! ' Winny said as she 
 gazed after the majestic retiring figure of the 
 lady. 
 
 Her mother expressed her chagrin, her 
 severe mortification, at the low estimate formed 
 of Winny's worth, after the years and the 
 money that had been spent upon her training 
 for a governess.
 
 1 82 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 ' O mother, there are hundreds of gover- 
 nesses to be had as cheap/ said WInny. ' Gov- 
 ernesses have to take what they can get, and 
 to put up with anything — that is the popular 
 theory as regards governesses.' 
 
 * But, Winny, I do not wish you to put up 
 with anything. Remember you have a mother, 
 and a good home to come to,' said the widow, 
 and she trembled. She shrank from the idea 
 of Winny having to suffer hardship, though she 
 feared no hardship for herself. 
 
 That evening Winny brought forth her new 
 clothes, and marked them with her name, their 
 number, and the year, and her mother pressed 
 them with a hot iron to make the writing 
 indelible. While they worked, they talked — 
 chiefly of past events, long past. At every great 
 change, the widow's memory went back on the 
 early years of her married life, told over again 
 her hopes that had been deceived, and her 
 expectations that had never been fulfilled. 
 Into the midst of the old story entered Delphine 
 Mercier, and was informed by Winny that her 
 fate was come.
 
 A BEGINNING. 1 83 
 
 * In what shape ? ' said Delphlne contem- 
 plating the fair white heap of linen. 
 
 * In the shape of Mrs Broome of Hall Green, 
 and a salary of ten pounds a year, with oppor- 
 tunities of improving myself under a French 
 superior.' 
 
 ' Ten pounds ! That is modest. What lots 
 of fine, beautiful linen — you might be going to 
 be married ! ' 
 
 ' I shall never be married. My mother is 
 giving me my trousseau now — she does not 
 approve of marriage, and love and nonsense, 
 do you, mother ? O Delphine, don't I wish I 
 were a boy ! ' 
 
 ' Don't let me hear you wish that again, 
 Winny,' interposed the widow severely. ' Is 
 Dick any better than you are, or better off? 
 Be content to be what God has made you.' 
 
 The girls exchanged amused glances, and 
 Delphine whispered to her friend : * And don't 
 make a mock at the little god, or he will be 
 even with you some day ! ' 
 
 Then they began to discourse of the after- 
 noon's event in its practical bearings. Delphine
 
 184 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 assured Mrs Hesketh that ten pounds was not 
 really so bad for a first engagement. If 
 Winny was to adopt the vocation of teacher 
 for good and all, the higher the connection 
 she formed at the outset, the more to her 
 advantage would it be in the future. Mrs 
 Hesketh was only too desirous of believing 
 what was said to comfort her, and mentioned 
 that she would give Winny a new French 
 merino dress and velvet bonnet to take to 
 Hall Green, as winter was so near at hand, 
 and she would have so little money to go on 
 with. 
 
 * Indeed, mother, you won t ! ' cried Winny. 
 * I shall dress within my income, and my last 
 winter's beaver bonnet is all the bonnet I shall 
 have this year.' Her mother looked disturbed, 
 but she did not argue the matter, and Delphine 
 Mercier wondered that Winny dared speak so 
 imperatively. 
 
 The next morning the widow Hesketh and 
 her daughter went out together to make their 
 last purchases. They went to Radstock's — Mr 
 Radstock's goods were always of excellent
 
 A BEGINNING. 1 85 
 
 quality, and as he was retiring from business, 
 an honestly enriched man, his faithful customer 
 calculated on meeting with one or two fair 
 bargains. The French merino was a former 
 promise, and Winny's wardrobe needed it — a 
 tawny violet was the colour she chose, and a 
 fabric so soft that it was a pleasure to stroke it. 
 
 ' And you must have a shawl — please to show 
 me some shawls,' Mrs Hesketh was saying to 
 the shopman as Mr Radstock himself came 
 up behind the counter. The shopman brought 
 forward a package of Scotch tartan shawls, 
 as Winny, in an energetic undertone, urged 
 upon her mother that she did not want a shawl 
 — her fur tippet was quite enough — and her 
 mother turned a deaf ear. 
 
 ' Is it for Miss Hesketh ? Bring that white 
 Paisley with the palm-leaf border,' said the 
 master. Mr Radstock himself unfolded and 
 displayed it. Winny's eyes approved its deli- 
 cate texture and design, but she shook her 
 head. ' It is never out of date, and young or 
 old may wear it. This is my last day in the 
 old shop, Mrs Hesketh, and if you'll allow me,
 
 1 86 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 I should like to present It to your little daughter 
 — she Is just beginning the world/ 
 
 The widow Hesketh appeared much gratified. 
 She was not a lover of gifts, but she had no 
 scruple about accepting this gift for WInny 
 from so old a friend, and on such an occasion. 
 Winny thanked Mr Radstock with a girlish 
 gratitude and delight. It was, indeed, a 
 beautiful shawl to have given unexpectedly 
 and so opportunely. 
 
 * What kind people there are,* she said to 
 her mother as they left the shop. 
 
 * Yes, WInny. You may never have the 
 chance of returning Mr Radstock's kindness, 
 but you may pass it on. If It be In your power. 
 Now we will go to Mrs Trym, and see what she 
 can make you a velvet bonnet for — you cannot 
 wear that shawl and your old beaver bonnet 
 together. It would be out of all character.' 
 
 But Winny still protested. * I would much 
 rather not have a new bonnet, mother — much 
 rather not. In the country my old beaver and 
 fur tippet will do very well. I am to have no 
 holiday at Christmas, you remember.'
 
 A BEGINNING. 1 87 
 
 Her mother let her prevail. It was not 
 difficult, with truly a very slender purse. 
 However, all Winny's needfuls were bought 
 now, and paid for, except the trunk to put them 
 in ; and that havine been found, covered with 
 black leather, and profusely ornamented with 
 brass nails, and her initials set upon the lid, 
 her equipment was complete. Delphine 
 Mercier sat by w^hile Winny packed up her 
 gear. 
 
 * There is an air of finality about it, Winny,' 
 said she. 
 
 ' I feel like going to sea without any port in 
 view,' Winny answered meditatively. After a 
 brief rest she resumed her task, and finished it 
 in silence. 
 
 Before she left home Miss Hutton came to 
 bid her good-bye. Twice while she was waiting 
 for an engagement Miss Hutton had invited 
 Winny to pay her a visit, but Mrs Hesketh 
 had declined the invitation for her daughter, 
 and Winny had submitted — perhaps, she did 
 not greatly desire the treat in her circumstances. 
 When Mildred heard, however, that her friend
 
 1 88 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 was leaving Gotham to live amongst strangers, 
 she was seized with an irresistible yearning to 
 see her. 
 
 Mildred wanted sympathy. Her love-story 
 was in Its initial chapter, and her heart ached to 
 tell it; for It had but a thwarted beginning. 
 The most copious of letters availed but poorly 
 for the purpose, and as Winny might not come to 
 her she went to Winny, and for three days did 
 she drone In Winny's patient ears the mono- 
 tonous rondo of a true love whose course was 
 running anything but smoothly. Such way- 
 wardness of parents and guardians had never 
 been heard of before ! Mildred had a turquoise 
 ring to show — a betrothal ring ; for this rough 
 wooing .had got the length of an engagement 
 between the young folks, before the elders 
 opened their eyes, and interposed with vain 
 precautions and angry vetoes. Mammon was 
 Love's adversary now as Mammon so often Is. 
 Love's present name was Frank, and Winny 
 was bidden to believe that Frank was all 
 Mildred's words and fancy painted him. Her 
 age was nineteen. His age was twenty, and he
 
 A BEGINNING. 1 89 
 
 was entirely dependent upon his father. It was 
 evident, even to Winny's romantic mind, that 
 they had taken time by the forelock in arranging 
 their lives, and she thought it possible (barely 
 possible of course) that the perverse parents 
 and guardians had some excuse for opposition, 
 and a reasonable plea for delay. But Mildred 
 was convinced that she had given her heart for 
 good and all, and would admit of none. In 
 that case, Winny said, she hoped the parents 
 and guardians might be brought to see the 
 error of their ways. Her sympathy was lively 
 rather than enthusiastic, and she made Mil- 
 dred laugh at herself instead of crying. 
 
 Nothing else got itself talked of, unless it were 
 the kindred theme of Mildred's poetry. They 
 sat for hours in Winny's room, in the midst of 
 her trunks and boxes, but If Mildred asked one 
 question about Hall Green she did not stay for 
 an answer — the self-absorbed garrulity of the 
 tender passion left her no tongue to spare for 
 common topics. Winny did not seem much to 
 regard It, but she was almost relieved when 
 Mildred went away, because she wished to have
 
 1 90 ^ THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 her last evening with her mother alone. Her 
 mother talked of Winny's concerns as devotedly 
 as Mildred talked of her own. Winny loved 
 Georgie, and she loved Mildred, but she knew 
 that her mother was her fastest and surest friend. 
 The widow said as much to her daughter before 
 they parted. 
 
 ' I hope we are acting wisely, and I believe 
 we are, Winny dear. But if you fall into 
 trouble, remember your mother is bound to 
 help you through all — and you'll come to me.' 
 
 Winny promised that she would. And so 
 she set forth on that voyage of which she did 
 not see the port.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 HALL GREEN. 
 
 The Honourable Edward Broome was the 
 sixth son of a Scotch earl. He was bred to 
 the Church, but had married early, and sought 
 no preferment. His wife was the heiress of 
 Hall Green. Her father had made a fortune 
 as a shipbuilder at Whitcliff in the days before 
 iron came up. His fortune made, Mr Acklam 
 retired from the briny scene of his successful 
 labours and speculations to the agricultural 
 neighbourhood of Cotham, where he bought a 
 small estate with a quarry upon it, and built a 
 hall in the Gothic style, a very stony edifice, 
 indeed, until time clothed its turrets, mullions 
 and buttresses with a variegated garment of 
 foliage and flowers, and raised to maturity the 
 plantations with which its twenty acres of park 
 were belted. The fortune that had satisfied
 
 192 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 the modest ambition and homely habits of Mr 
 Acklam would hardly satisfy a superior clerk 
 of now-a-days for salary. But what he had, his 
 daughter inherited ; and as she was a beauty 
 besides, and educated at Gotham Manor School, 
 she achieved a local celebrity while still in her 
 teens. Mr Edward Broome met her at a ball 
 in those parts. He was a fine-looking young 
 Scotchman, blue-eyed and yellow-haired, stand- 
 ing six foot two in his stockings, a diligent 
 dancer and an agreeable person, but absolutely 
 penniless. Miss Acklam was just out of mourn- 
 ing for her father, and her guardians were at 
 their wits' end how to dispose of her — whether 
 to remit her to the cloistered shades of the 
 Manor School — when this gentleman came for- 
 ward as a suitor for her hand. There was no 
 impediment except his want of fortune, and the 
 young lady, blessed with a will of her own, 
 decided that she had fortune enough for both. 
 They were married. Hall Green was ready to 
 receive them as a home, and the society of the 
 neighbourhood spread its arms to welcome 
 them. Three sons and four daughters were
 
 HALL GREEN. 1 93 
 
 born in their house — handsome, healthy, good 
 children all, but the fortune that was ample for 
 two, three-and-twenty years ago, was strait 
 for the nine they had increased to, when Mrs 
 Broome sought a sub-governess to work with- 
 out wages, and was urged by the counter- 
 necessities of the widow Hesketh to give ten 
 pounds for the commodity that could not be 
 had for nothing. In short, the Broomes of 
 Hall Green were gentle-folks, people of quality, 
 as Gotham said, but poor as poor could be, and 
 Mrs Broome very mean in her ways. 
 
 It was a lovely autumnal afternoon, towards 
 five o'clock, when Winny Hesketh first saw 
 Hall Green. She had never lived in the 
 country, and it seemed to her a paradise. The 
 children were in the garden, watching for the 
 carriage with half shy curiosity. They were 
 girls of nine, ten, twelve, and fifteen, fair and 
 attractive every one. The eldest, Mab, con- 
 ducted the stranger to mamma in the drawing- 
 room ; and after a few formally kind words of 
 reception, Mrs Broome said that perhaps Miss 
 Hesketh would like to stay out of doors until 
 
 VOL. L N
 
 194 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 the children's tea-time, and they would show 
 her the garden. This met Winny's views 
 exactly, and, attended by all the four, she was 
 made free of the place very soon, and received 
 a variety of information that came in useful 
 later. 
 
 The place was destitute of natural beauty, 
 level as a bowling-green, but the trees were 
 well-grouped and grown, and the shrubberies 
 were luxuriant. The garden proper was not 
 large, but, being separated by only a sunk fence 
 from the park, so-called, it had an air of 
 spaciousness, and the expanse beyond was 
 profitable and ornamental as pasture for the 
 Alderney cows that supplied the family dairy, 
 and even contributed butter to Cotham market. 
 
 The children were summoned to tea ten 
 minutes before it was on the table, and Miss 
 Hesketh was taken to her room by Jane, the 
 young ladies' maid, who fetched them in. 
 First up a broad flight of stairs— stone stairs, 
 but covered with a hard-worn red Wilton car- 
 pet — then through a swing-door, just beyond 
 which Jane introduced the new governess to
 
 HALL GREEN. 1 95 
 
 the empty schoolroom ; down a stone passage 
 covered with matting ; up a flight of winding 
 steps, steep and bare, and stone too, into a 
 turret chamber, a perfect sky parlour. The 
 evening light was full in it — east, west, and 
 north turned its bird's-eye windows. Winny 
 exclaimed at its liberal prospects. The furni- 
 ture was scanty, and where the fire should have 
 been, there was an open chimney in the thick- 
 ness of the wall, too favourable by half for the 
 circulation of air. 
 
 ' Pleasant now, but shivery in winter,' was 
 its young tenant's second thoughts. And then 
 she unlocked her grand new trunk, took out a 
 dress prepared for evening wear, and made a 
 rapid despatch of her toilette for tea. The two 
 youngest girls came to convoy her down, lest 
 she should lose her way. Sis, the smallest of 
 all, took her hand in the passage, and recom- 
 mended her to observe that it was dark, and 
 not wide. 
 
 The schoolroom was in twilight too, but 
 Miss Hesketh saw that besides her pupils who 
 were to be, two ladies stood there — Mrs Broome
 
 196 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 and old Mam'zell. Jane was setting the chairs 
 for tea. Mab seated herself in front of the 
 tray, and appointed her new governess to a 
 place at her right hand. The other three girls 
 settled themselves, and after seeing the first 
 cups poured out and handed round, the elder 
 ladies prepared to leave the young party. But 
 before going, Mrs Broome addressed a question 
 to Miss Hesketh : * We have been used to 
 breakfast all together at nine o'clock. Miss 
 Hesketh. Would you prefer a schoolroom 
 breakfast ? ' 
 
 ' Yes — at eight o'clock, if you please,' said 
 Winny with instant decision. As Mrs Broome 
 went downstairs she remarked to old Mam'zell 
 that she thought the young person would do. 
 
 It was a very cheerful tea. In fact, it may 
 be stated once for all that the Broomes were 
 good children — not perfect angels — but honest, 
 truthful, well-disposed, affectionate to one an- 
 other, and if not fond out of their family, taught 
 to be courteous to everybody. Sis took Miss 
 Hesketh under her protection and patronage 
 at once, and Mab, a sweet, tall, womanly girl,
 
 HALL GREEN. 1 97 
 
 laughed at them. Perhaps she had a slight 
 sense of superiority in being able to look over 
 her new governess's head. 
 
 When tea was over one by one the girls were 
 called out, and came back in white frocks, and 
 with blue ribbons in their hair — there was a 
 dinner-party at Hall Green that evening. The 
 interval until they were summoned downstairs 
 was spent in conning the next day's lessons. 
 By and by came a knock at the door, and 
 Simmons put in his blooming face, and an- 
 nounced : ' Dessert is on the table, young ladies,' 
 and away they all went, Mab moderating 
 their rush with elder-sisterly decorum. Some 
 twenty minutes later Sis reappeared, very im- 
 portant, bearing a plate, and Mab lighting her 
 up. Promptly she spoke. 
 
 * I asked papa to send you some dessert, 
 Miss Hesketh — here's grapes and a pear and 
 a bit of sponge-cake. I wanted nuts too, but 
 papa said, Be off — Miss Hesketh is not a 
 squirrel ! ' 
 
 ' Papa has sent you the Daily News instead,' 
 added Mab, offering the paper.
 
 1 98 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 ' I like that better,' said WInny, frankly 
 accepting it. 
 
 ' How funny ! She likes news better than 
 nuts/ mused Sis ; and being returned to the 
 drawing-room, she announced the odd fact with 
 an admirable comic air of discovery, for which 
 somebody kissed her. Kisses came much and 
 often in Sis's way. 
 
 The next interruption was from the three 
 young ones, come to say good-night, and at 
 nine o'clock Mab appeared to perform the same 
 ceremony, and to see that Miss Hesketh had 
 supper. But Winny had eaten her sponge- 
 cake and grapes, and wanted no supper. Last 
 of all came old Mam'zell : diminutive, wrinkled, 
 covered up to the chin in black silk and lace. 
 She looked very old, very tired and jaded. 
 She sat down with her young coadjutor who 
 laid aside the newspaper, ready to listen if she 
 were talked to. Old Mam'zell gazed at her 
 long, dimly, scrutinisingly, then said in a tone 
 of mixed remonstrance and regret : ' But how 
 you are pretty ! ' 
 
 It was not so bad an introduction of herself
 
 HALL GREEN. 1 99 
 
 It was not In girl-nature that WInny should be 
 otherwise than pleased : ' I shall not be the less 
 useful for that,' she said blushing rather shyly. 
 Old Mam'zell shook her head with a slow, sad 
 motion, resting her hands upon her knees, and 
 turning her eyes to the cold empty grate. After 
 a few minutes of silence she rose feebly, and 
 intimated that It was bed-time. WInny was 
 glad of It. She was weary and slept profoundly, 
 and was up again at six in the morning, with 
 a light heart, and good courage for her work. 
 
 It is not necessary to dilate on the said work. 
 All the world knows that simple, monotonous 
 routine. WInny found her yoke easy, and her 
 burden comparatively light at Hall Green. 
 Clemmy, the second girl, was shrewd and 
 clever ; the other three were sweetly bright at 
 everything but books. Old Mam'zell had 
 reigned supreme In schoolrooms for fifty years, 
 and clouded as her faculties were becomlno-, she 
 never forgot how to give a lesson. WInny 
 soon caught her way, and soon — too soon — 
 Mrs Broome discerned that the old Mam'zell
 
 200 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 was but a lay-figure that could be done without, 
 and that the young person who had been 
 engaged to assist was quite capable of super- 
 seding her. Winny never thought of it. In 
 the long winter evenings old Mam'zell and 
 she were company for each other. The chil- 
 dren went downstairs to dessert, and they were 
 left alone. Old Mam'zell dined when there was 
 a dinner-party, but WInny was never Invited to 
 leave the schoolroom. She mentioned to her 
 mother that there was to be a grand Christmas- 
 Eve entertainment, and her mother sent her 
 out by the carrier a pair of beautiful white kid 
 gloves. Winny thanked her warmly in her 
 next letter, and said the entertainment went off 
 capitally — but she omitted to say that she had 
 none of the fun. Mrs Broome had a great deal 
 of fine, honourable feeling, and she did not 
 approve of creating a confusion of ranks. She 
 allowed Miss Hesketh to understand, at once, 
 what her position was at Hall Green, and 
 WInny took it up with perfect philosophy. 
 She did not even find it dull. She had enough 
 to do in the five hours which were allotted to
 
 HALL GREEN. 201 
 
 lessons, and she had to walk with the children 
 once a day, or twice if the weather was not fit 
 for garden games. In the evening old 
 Mam'zell talked French with her, or if she were 
 silent, Winny scribbled a little, and amused 
 herself. 
 
 The days began to be bright and long while 
 they were still very cold. March sun and 
 March winds had their full play upon the plain 
 that surrounded Hall Green. Old Mam'zell 
 watched them advancing with a sharp and 
 anxious visage. One evening, sitting in her 
 place by the schoolroom fire, Winny heard her 
 say to herself twice over : ' I shall have to go. 
 I shall have to go.' 
 
 * To go where, Mam'zell ? ' she asked un- 
 concernedly. 
 
 ' To go away — to leave Hall Green,' was 
 the answer with a series of rapid, confidential 
 nods. 
 
 ' Oh no ! ' cried Winny, and came and sat 
 down on a low stool beside her. She took the 
 poor shrivelled hands in hers, and put them to 
 her lips.
 
 202 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 ' I shall have to go — you will see/ reiterated 
 old Mam'zell ; and Winny became deeply 
 reflective. 
 
 Before long Winny did see. Old Mam'zell 
 was accustomed to attend the two elder girls 
 to Gotham in the carriage for their dancing 
 lesson, if Mrs Broome did not find it convenient 
 to escort them herself One bitter fine day 
 when it so happened, old Mam'zell had a cold 
 and a bad cough, and had not been out for a 
 week. Mrs Broome said indignantly to her 
 husband that she was of no use at all now. 
 
 ' Send Miss Hesketh,' suggested the gentle- 
 man. 
 
 ' Who is to teach Sissy and Bee while Miss 
 Hesketh is absent?' rejoined the lady. It 
 ended, however, by Miss Hesketh's being sent, 
 and Mrs Broome took that opportunity of 
 speaking to old Mam'zell of what had been for 
 some weeks gathering force in her intentions. 
 
 *She was very kind,' old Mam'zell said to 
 Winny afterwards, and then she ran on into a 
 long story. ' She has always been very kind — 
 little Mab was but four years old when I came
 
 HALL GREEN. 203 
 
 first to Hall Green. And I shall go and close 
 my days in my own country — that is France.' 
 The tears rose to Winny's eyes at the sound 
 of the pathetic, resigned voice, at the sight of 
 the almost senile face. — ' You understand that 
 after forty — fifty years, one does not find many 
 left one knew. But the good God is merciful, 
 and it may be that I have not long to live. 
 Seventy-two, my dear, seventy-two, I am, and 
 have had health always, and my breakfast in 
 bed never, never since I went into families. — 
 Mr Levison, he was my first pupil — he and 
 his sister, the Lady Mounteagle, who is dead 
 a long while ago. And then I was in Ireland 
 seven years with the Barrowcliffs — Lord Barrow- 
 cliff and his brother — bad little boys as ever 
 you see. O torments ! I had to threaten 
 them with the police — they did fight so. And 
 their mother only said : " Let them do — let 
 them fight, and hurt themselves : there is no 
 teacher like painful experience." Painful ex- 
 perience, indeed ! Ah, I know it ! ' 
 
 Winny had to laugh through her tears often 
 as old Mam'zell recited her catalogue of adven-
 
 204 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 tures. She had a lively memory and a witty 
 humour. ' It was the ambassador's wife who 
 brought me to London — I have lived in none 
 but great houses — and she was my good friend 
 always until she died, and I lost her. I was 
 beginning to go down the hill, as you say, when 
 Mrs Broome engaged me, and she would give 
 no more than forty pounds. I have not laid 
 by much, and I have lost some in a company 
 of sacks — one year I had no dividend, and 
 then it gave up. If you are to be always a 
 governess, make yourself worth money — make 
 yourself worth money. With Miss Clough, who 
 is the Duchess of Tufton, I had two hundred 
 pounds salary — that was a great deal, but then 
 I had lived in society.' 
 
 ' I will not be always a governess — I will not 
 wear out in thankless service. How old must 
 a woman be to defy the tongues of men, and 
 live as her own mistress ? That is what I shall 
 do,' Winny said, her projects taking shape with 
 the words that defined them. 
 
 ' You might marry — if you had some little 
 do^' suggested old Mam'zell diffidently.
 
 HALL GREEN. 205 
 
 * But I have no little dot And my mother 
 does not counsel girls to marry/ 
 
 * Your mother did marry herself — ah, possibly 
 she has reasons. At thirty — at thirty a woman 
 is as wise and prudent as she is ever likely to 
 be — at thirty she may live as it pleases her, if 
 she can, and defy the tongues of men.' 
 
 At thirty ! Oh, what venerable years ! The 
 age of liberty with propriety appeared to Winny 
 Hesketh a long way off, indeed. 
 
 Old Mam'zell reverted to her own business. 
 * Mrs Broome Is very good, very thoughtful — 
 she advised that I must go before the next 
 winter — the winter in Northshire is cold. I 
 think I shall go to Paris — to Paris. It was 
 there I lived with maman! 
 
 From this, and a little more Winny learnt 
 that old Mam'zell had neither home nor friend 
 to turn to in that strange city that she called 
 her country. It seemed exquisitely sad. Winny 
 asked that night if she might go to her room 
 with her, and if she could help her at all ; but 
 it seemed that Jane was attentive to her. The 
 next morning she tottered into the schoolroom
 
 206 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 at her usual hour. Mab set her chair. Sis 
 brought her Bible. She gazed vacantly at the 
 children, and asked some untimely question, 
 which Mab answered as if it were all In due 
 course. Lessons began, and went on until 
 noon. She heard all her pupils read, and saw 
 them go out to walk, their young governess 
 with them. She watched them gathering snow- 
 drops in the drive, and stood at the window 
 until they were out of sight along the road, and 
 then Jane came in, bringing her a basin of 
 soup. 
 
 ' Old Mam zell's ill, and they don't see it,' the 
 servant told her fellows when she returned to 
 their quarters. ' Missis has given her warning 
 to leave, and she's fretting. Poor soul ! it's not 
 much she can do, but she's wrapt up in the 
 young ladies.' 
 
 At luncheon, however, Mr Broome did see it, 
 and afterwards spoke of it to his wife, proposing 
 that Dr Archer should be sent for. Mrs Broome 
 did not consider that necessary — old Mam'zell 
 always had this winter-cough, she said ; change 
 of air would take it away, and perhaps they
 
 HALL GREEN. 207 
 
 had better hasten her departure. Mr Broome 
 never argued with his wife, but he commonly 
 had his way in the house. He went out to 
 take a walk, and walked to Cotham, and was 
 brought back in Dr Archer's carriage. Mrs 
 Broome was in the village when they arrived 
 at Hall Green, but she returned in time to hear 
 the physician's report. 
 
 ' My dear madam, old Mam'zell will never 
 make that journey you have recommended to 
 her. Be thankful that she has not started ; for 
 she would assuredly die upon the road.' 
 
 When Winny Hesketh was told this her 
 eyes filled — but she thought death was coming 
 kindly to close old Mam'zell's long service. 
 And Mrs Broome was thankful that, as the 
 event turned, she was under a familiar roof. 
 Christian charity and patience were put to no 
 long trial on her account. A few days of feeble 
 suffering, a few days of wandering weakness, 
 a visit from her priest, an hour's unconscious- 
 ness, and old Mam'zell drifted away, and was 
 safe past the waves of this troublesome world.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 PERILS IN THAT STATE OF LIFE. 
 
 What difference old Mam'zelFs removal would 
 make to Winny, or whether it would make any, 
 was a consideration that naturally occurred to 
 her mother. Mrs Broome intimated that Miss 
 Hesketh was too young for the sole charge of 
 her daughters, but added that she would not 
 make a change without giving her due notice. 
 Mab and Clemmy had already begun to have 
 music-lessons with Mr Anderson on the day 
 they went to Gotham for the dancing-class. 
 Other accomplishments Mrs Broome was not 
 concerned for. Her girls had not conspicuous 
 ability, and she disapproved of forcing and 
 over-educating them. She made her appear- 
 ance in the schoolroom frequently, at first, to 
 see that work progressed as it should, but she 
 had to put the drag on the young governess
 
 PERILS IN THAT STATE OF LIFE. 209 
 
 rather than to give her the spur. Winny did 
 her duty with a conscience, and achieved the 
 triumph of making her pupils do the same ; 
 so that if she had to spend half a day in 
 Cotham with the two elder girls, she could rely 
 on the two younger ones practising and prepar- 
 ing their work in her absence as diligently as 
 if she were at their elbow. 
 
 Mrs Broome found her soon a most con- 
 venient, adaptable, obliging young person to 
 have in her family. At midsummer, when the 
 three boys came home from school, a month at 
 Whitcliffe was decreed, and Mrs Broome con- 
 sulted Miss Hesketh as to whether it would 
 not be for the good of her health to go to the 
 sea with the children — where they might do as 
 little lessons as they pleased — rather than to go 
 to Castle Green ; and Mrs Hesketh being very 
 much of that opinion, Winny never went home 
 at all that year. Miss Denham was invited for 
 a week by Mrs Broome to make it more like a 
 holiday for Miss Hesketh, and Georgie's com- 
 pany and conversation on the sands, and her 
 VOL. L o
 
 2IO THIS WORK-A-D AY WORLD. 
 
 ringing to the cranky old hired piano, were, 
 Indeed, supreme joys to WInny, and came too 
 soon to an end. 
 
 After the return to Hall Green there was no 
 more allusion to change except what Miss 
 Hesketh made herself. She said to Mrs 
 Broome : ' Clemmy has a turn for arithmetic, 
 and she knows all I can teach her. But she 
 wishes to go further — if you will let her have 
 a lesson once a week with the schoolmaster, 
 I can manage all the other lessons easily.' 
 
 * How far can she go?' Mrs Broome in- 
 quired. 
 
 ' She can do rule of three, and compound 
 long division and simple interest ' 
 
 '- Then she can do quite enough. What does 
 she want with more ? I never have to do a 
 rule of three sum. If my household accounts 
 are complicated I carry them to Mr Broome. 
 However, I will speak to him, and hear what 
 he has to say about Clemmy.' 
 
 Mr Broome said Clemmy might have the 
 schoolmaster to teach her arithmetic if she 
 liked, but in his judgment, it was not requisite ;
 
 PERILS IN THAT STATE OF LIFE. 2 I I 
 
 he thought Miss Hesketh quite clever enough 
 to teach anything. 
 
 ' No, Edward, no,' said his wife, ' there you 
 are too partial. Miss Hesketh teaches history 
 nicely, and makes it interesting to the children 
 — by the by, she asks for your Oxford book of 
 dates — and she understands geography, but 
 Clemmy is quicker in putting her finger on a 
 place in the map. Miss Hesketh is a pains- 
 taking elementary governess, but she is not 
 brilliantly accomplished. Her music is just so, 
 so. Of her drawing I do not pretend to give 
 an opinion. She is a fair English scholar, if 
 one may say as much of a girl of her age, and 
 she will improve Mab's mind, for I don't 
 believe she ever talks nonsense, but we must 
 not put her on a level with old Mam'zell ' — if 
 Mrs Broome had completed the sentence with 
 the thought that was in her mind she would 
 have said — ' as regards salary ' — for it had 
 already been suggested to her that she must 
 not expect from Miss Hesketh a second year 
 of instruction for her daughters at a salary of 
 ten pounds.
 
 212 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD, 
 
 Mrs Brunton had forewarned WInny that 
 she must set a value upon herself and assert it, 
 and Delphine Mercier had said energetically : 
 * If Mrs Broome will not give you thirty 
 pounds — leave — leave' But Winny was one 
 of those characters who seem born with an in- 
 difference to money — she thought it quite of 
 secondary account in her condition ; and being 
 well and contented in other respects, she did 
 not care to risk the permanence of her engage- 
 ment. When Mrs Broome, at her year's end, 
 handsomely proposed to double her salary, 
 Winny accepted her proposal with thanks, and 
 did not tell Delphine what she had done until 
 she asked her. 
 
 Winny Hesketh may now be considered as 
 fairly embarked in her vocation. It neither 
 tired nor disgusted her, and she filled it with 
 the cheerful countenance that tells of a heart in 
 prosperity. That occasional day in Cotham 
 was a great boon. Mab and Clemmy had their 
 music-lesson at the Manor School, by favour of 
 Mrs Brunton, and while they were safe under 
 that lady's wing their governess could do Mrs
 
 PERILS IN THAT STATE OF LIFE. 2 1 3 
 
 Broome^s commissions, and devote a few happy 
 minutes to her mother. The widow Hesketh 
 was perfectly satisfied with her child's air and 
 aspect in these days, and she herself wore a 
 look of peace. At the dancing-class, which 
 met in the larore room of the Talbot Inn, Miss 
 Hesketh had to mount guard all the time, but 
 Miss Denham frequently contrived to come in, 
 and alleviate a portion of the two hours' tedium 
 of fiddle and figures. 
 
 And there were other governesses, native 
 and foreign, old, middle-aged and young, with 
 whom the Hall Green governess had the oppor- 
 tunity of making acquaintance if she chose. 
 But, perhaps, she was reserved ; for, with two 
 exceptions, she never advanced beyond the 
 civility of a bow. The one exception was 
 Miss Molyneux, an elderly, formal person, who 
 had been governess to the Lady Hollingford, 
 and was now governess to the Lady H oiling- 
 ford's three daughters. She was an excellent 
 woman, and conceived quite a kindness for the 
 bright-eyed, intelligent young governess who 
 paid her respect as a senior of honour in the
 
 214 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 profession. The other exception was a German 
 girl of not more than sixteen — a fair-haired, soft- 
 eyed Httle Gretchen, who gave Winny a score 
 of idle confidences in a day. Winny would not 
 have been attracted to her, but she threw her- 
 self upon Winny, who never could repulse any- 
 one who appeared unfriended. She let Winny 
 know that her father was a poor pastor in 
 Hesse, that her mother was an Invalid, that 
 they were eight children at home, and herself 
 the eldest but one. She would speak of them 
 all, of her sisters and brothers tenderly, path- 
 etically, and in the next breath would appeal 
 for an approval of a fresh sprig in her bonnet, 
 of a bow on her shoe, of a trifling alteration in 
 an old dress — for she was no richer in money 
 than Winny, and she had much more occasion 
 for display. She was a childish creature, im- 
 pulsive and ignorant, but she could ^play as 
 scarcely one English governess in a hundred 
 can play, and could sing like an angel. She 
 was in the house of the Lady Repton, to 
 speak German and coax music into her one 
 little girl — a petted, insolent darling, whose
 
 PERILS IN THAT STATE OF LIFE. 2 I 5 
 
 ill -humours were treated as charms and 
 graces. 
 
 Lord Repton was a country gentleman of 
 aesthetic tastes ; his wife was a very gay and 
 fashionable lady. Their seat was about a mile 
 beyond Hoi worth Mill, and the Cotham Gazette 
 rarely came out on a Saturday without some 
 account of festivities at Repton House. In 
 these festivities the young foreigner had a cap- 
 ricious share, of which she loved to tell Winny 
 the details — and, indeed, Winny heard her 
 talked of by visitors who lunched at Hall 
 Green. She was admired and compassionated. 
 A lady said Repton House was not a nice 
 house for a friendless young foreigner to live 
 in, and Mrs Broome rejoined that in her opinion 
 the friendless young foreigner was very unfit 
 for her office of governess. If a dance were 
 the order of the evening Gretchen had the 
 most beautiful waltzes, galops, quadrilles at her 
 finger-ends. If music were in request, who 
 could sing so sweet a ballad, so moving a 
 passion-song as that child-stranger to whom 
 love and life were equal mysteries ? Lady
 
 2l6 THIS WORK- A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 Repton grew vain of her nightingale, and 
 brought her more and more forward amongst 
 her guests, ever eager to be amused. That 
 winter private theatricals were the rage, and 
 Gretchen could act a simple story, they said, 
 divinely. Winny blushed, and grew almost 
 sick of the triumphs and vanities that were 
 poured into her ears, with complaints of poor 
 clothes, and cravings for better. By and by 
 the poor clothes improved, but at the same 
 time the blithe frivolity was clouded, the soft 
 eyes became timid, and the too candid tongue 
 embarrassed in its revelations. Winny said to 
 her one day that she must not run into debt 
 for pretty things — that would be too foolish — 
 adding, that she herself had no temptation ; but 
 the warning put a stop to the confidences. 
 
 The Repton dog-cart always conveyed Miss 
 Repton and her governess to and fro, and one 
 fine, February afternoon when Miss Molyneux 
 and Miss Hesketh were waiting with their girls 
 for the arrival of their respective carriages, it 
 dashed up to the door of the Talbot with three 
 gentlemen. The young German was handed
 
 PERILS IX THAT STATE OF LIFE. 217 
 
 to the vacant back-seat with more lively famili- 
 arity than respect, and her pupil as bodkin. 
 Her manner was scared and uneasy, and 
 though Winny nodded to her from the window, 
 she seemed too pre-occupied to notice any- 
 thing. 
 
 Miss Molyneux said to Winny : * I tremble 
 for that poor, silly girl! Lady Repton takes 
 no sort of care of her, and she brought her from 
 Germany only last summer. She will get into 
 a scrape, and she was not meant to be bad, I 
 am sure.' 
 
 Winny Hesketh's heart stood still for pity 
 and terror when she heard the next news of 
 her. She never came as^ain to the dancing^- 
 
 o o 
 
 school, and little Miss Repton appeared in 
 charge of an elderly, ascetic Scotchwoman. 
 The Lady Repton loudly proclaimed that she 
 would have no more foreigners about her child 
 — for who would have thouo^ht it ? that German 
 girl — a pastor s daughter, too — who was so soft- 
 eyed and sweet-spoken, who sang so seraphi- 
 cally, and looked so innocent, had turned out 
 — a thief / a thief f Positively! Trinkets had
 
 2l8 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 been missed from time to time, a diamond clasp, 
 a ruby ring had disappeared, and would it be 
 credited, that miserable little traitress had 
 stolen them ? had stolen them — and for what ? 
 To buy her fantastic costumes to act In, and 
 ribbons and gauds to make a show in the 
 drawing-room amongst the ladies and gentle- 
 men ! 
 
 The Lady Repton had her say uncontra- 
 dicted until the Normlnster assizes came on, 
 and the poor pastor of Hesse's daughter was 
 put upon her trial. She was convicted, she 
 was punished. But the Lady Repton received 
 from the judge the severest reprimand that 
 ever a witness had received from the bench In 
 that court. 
 
 Winny Hesketh asked Miss Molyneux what 
 would become of Gretchen. 
 
 * Oh, my dear, I cannot tell you — with a 
 pretty face, and a beautiful voice, and no 
 character, and idleness and a taste for pleasure, 
 I am afraid there is very little doubt what will 
 become of her,' said the woman who had fifty- 
 seven years' experience of the world. ' There
 
 PERILS IN THAT STATE OF LIFE. 219 
 
 are perils In this state of life, you see,' she 
 went on, ' and temptations for poor, weak, 
 attractive girls. Girls ought to keep fast hold 
 on whatever they have been taught that Is 
 good. Not that they will escape trial even 
 then, but when they walk blindly they may be 
 kept from falling, if it be their habit to rest 
 upon a strength other than their own. Read 
 your Bible, my dear, and remember your 
 prayers.' 
 
 WInny Hesketh did not tell that wretched 
 episode of Gretchen to her mother. Mrs 
 Hesketh never heard It. Already her anxious 
 turn of mind was apt to create for her too many 
 forebodings. Winny had often to find verbal 
 confidence for both as regarded her future. 
 It seemed as if the widow, having practised 
 to make her daughter as Independent as her 
 son, had come to a late knowledge that, after 
 all, a girl is not a boy, nor designed by nature 
 to be thrown entirely at liberty. Winny had 
 profited almost too much by the maxims In- 
 stilled into her memory. She had all the fear- 
 lessness of ignorance, and professed to make
 
 2 20 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 light of men, and to repudiate the pleasing 
 vanities of her sex. She was nearly twenty- 
 years old, and had never fancied herself in 
 love, or in the least danger of love. This 
 statement she volunteered with a laughing, 
 light-hearted satisfaction to Delphine Mercier, 
 on receiving from that practical young woman 
 an intimation that she, Delphine, had a suitor, 
 that she was engaged to marry, and intended 
 to marry without long delay. She there and 
 then bespoke Winny for her bridesmaid, and 
 asked if she might bring her dear Joe to Castle 
 Green to be introduced. Also she predicted 
 to Winny that, sooner or later, love would find 
 out the way to the vulnerable spot in her own 
 proud little heart — and she wished it might 
 be soon, for the sake of sympathy.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 DELPHINE MERCIER's JOE. 
 
 This was at midsummer. Miss Hesketh had 
 asked and obtained a six weeks' holiday from 
 Hall Green, the first fortnight of which she 
 was spending at home, devoting a portion of 
 her leisure hours to preparations for the long- 
 desired and long-deferred visit to her friend 
 Mildred Hutton, to which her mother had, at 
 last, consented. Miss Dalby lived on Castle 
 Green, giving a chief hand in these prepara- 
 tions. She sat in the dull back-parlour, 
 sewing all day long. She made up as a 
 Sunday best dress that lead-coloured silk. Aunt 
 Agnes's premature Christmas gift to her niece, 
 which had reposed so long in the yellow chest ; 
 and she made up a Swiss muslin with Stuart 
 tartan ribbons, and a pink and white striped 
 Urlstone gingham, the ribbons and the gingham
 
 2 22 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 being gifts respectively from Mr and Mrs 
 Broome on their return from a tour in Scotland. 
 And last of all she made up a dress concerning 
 which Winny's sentimental mind was much 
 exercised. One morning, when she was run- 
 ning a seam, and listening to Miss Dalby's 
 annals of the poor amongst whom her lot was 
 cast, the widow Hesketh entered, bearing in 
 her hands a parcel, the features of which 
 Winny knew well. 
 
 She laid it upon the table, and opened out 
 her wedding-dress and pelisse. ' The two 
 together will be enough — you are not taller 
 than your mother was, Winny,' said she, dis- 
 playing the narrow skirts — the skirt of the 
 pelisse lined with white silk of which the 
 purity was a little tarnished, and the under 
 skirt trimmed with three rows of lace. 
 
 Winny blushed with pleased surprise. She 
 did not admire the notion of appropriating 
 these wedding-clothes, but what a pretty, pretty 
 dress they would make ! And perfectly to her 
 taste. The silk was rich and soft, the ground- 
 colour a delicate silver-grey, and the minute
 
 DELPHINE MERCIERS JOE. 223 
 
 pattern with which it was figured over traced in 
 white. Miss Dalby said it was beautiful, and 
 could never be old-fashioned. * But I don't 
 half like to take it in pieces, mother/ said 
 Winny, wistful, regretful. 
 
 * Nonsense, child ! What is the good of 
 letting it lie useless ? There are specks of 
 mildew on one cuff of the pelisse — I hope it 
 does not go any further,' and the widow 
 proceeded to a careful examination. Other 
 blemishes there were none, and after brief 
 deliberation Winny was set to unmake those 
 robes that had been made with quite other 
 hopes than hers. 
 
 It was exquisite neat work, and required 
 patience to undo. ' Be careful with the lace, 
 Winny,' said her mother. ' You may have 
 of it what will make you a bertha, but don't 
 cut it at random. It is very fine Mechlin.' 
 
 'How grand I shall be!' Winny answered, 
 laughing. That was her way. She pretended 
 not to care, but, in fact, she was fond of the 
 niceties of dress, and was remiss in no item 
 of personal cultivation ; her frills were crisp
 
 2 24 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 and snowy always, and her shoes and gloves 
 revealed distinct feminine weakness. 
 
 In the midst of her suggestive employ- 
 ment appeared Delphlne Mercier, bringing 
 two books in her hand. * These are the 
 two books Joe gave me: '^ Phantasmion " and 
 '' Vaughan's Poems" — look into them, Winny, 
 and you will get an idea of what he is from 
 the reading he wishes me to like. We shall 
 come at six/ said she, and was gone again on 
 her busy way to some class. 
 
 Joe's introduction was to be celebrated that 
 evening by a high tea on Castle Green. Mrs 
 Hesketh had given a rather inhospitable, 
 reluctant consent to his invitation. For was 
 he not a lover ? Not Winny's, it is true, but 
 Delphlne's, which was next door to it, and 
 might put emulous, imitative fancies into 
 Winny's head. However, the young folks' 
 minds were set on it, and the risk must be 
 run„ 
 
 Winny took her walk, and made the parlour 
 put on its company aspect with a few flowers 
 from Nanny Anson's garden, in the vine-leaf;
 
 DELPHINE MERCIER'S JOE. 225 
 
 and at five o'clock she sat down to con Joe's 
 gift-books. When she had seen Joe she came 
 to the conclusion that Delphine was uncon- 
 sciously responsible for his choice. Punctual 
 to six o'clock they arrived ; Delphine in a neat 
 stone-coloured alpaca, and Joe in speckled 
 cotton gloves. Mrs Hesketh was solemn as 
 became the occasion ; Winny was in her play- 
 ful humour, and her mother said to her once : 
 * Don't laugh so, Winny — what is there to 
 laugh at?' There was a self-evident cause 
 at the moment, but the real cause of Winny' s 
 mirth lay deeper. She was secretly merry 
 over Delphlne's Joe, wondering how Delphine 
 had ever idealised him into a lover — such 
 a heavy, red-faced young man ! Perhaps 
 Delphine had not idealised him at all, but 
 loved him simply for what he was. She 
 talked for the twain. He sat behind the 
 table, and it seemed more than once as if 
 the girls in the bow-window had forgotten 
 that he was there. Mrs Hesketh took her 
 knitting, and was observant in silence. 
 
 But Delphine was sincerely desirous of 
 VOL. I. p
 
 2 26 TPIIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 WInny's suffrages in Joe's favour, and calling 
 him presently to her support, she proceeded 
 to lay open their plans for the future, when 
 they should be married. Joe was a nephew 
 of Mrs Mason, and had been hitherto employed 
 as a bookseller's assistant, but had relinquished 
 his employment for some reason not stated. 
 Delphine recounted how he had tried to get 
 the appointment of librarian at the Cotham 
 Town Library and had failed ; and they had 
 decided since to give joint lessons — she, in 
 languages as at present, and he, lessons in 
 writing and arithmetic. Together she believed 
 that they would be able to make a very good 
 thing of their teaching. Winny confessed that 
 she did not see why not. Mrs Hesketh said 
 nothing. 
 
 *0f course, we should prefer to stay in 
 Cotham, where my connection is so valuable, 
 but Joe's sisters, who are taking Mrs Mason's 
 old school, object. So we think of settling in 
 Hull,' Delphine said with diffident reluctance. 
 
 At this Mrs Hesketh's face was emphatic of 
 discouragement, and Winny said with almost
 
 DELPHINE MERCIERS JOE. 227 
 
 peremptoty disapproval : ' But that would be 
 very foolish, to throw away a living already 
 assured to begin anew in a strange place. 
 Why do the Miss Masons object to your 
 staying in Cotham ? Indeed, but I think 
 you should practise a judicious selfishness.' 
 
 ' I do not know why they object, but they 
 do object. And it would be a pity to begin 
 with any unpleasantness.' 
 
 WInny was on the point of appealing to 
 Joe, but having looked at him, she checked 
 herself. He was listening with tame acqui- 
 escence. * I shall be sorry if you go away 
 from Cotham,' she said, and refrained from 
 further counsel. 
 
 The engaged couple took their leave at 
 eight o'clock that they might enjoy a walk by 
 the river before Delphlne went home. WInny 
 stood at the window as they slowly crossed 
 the green, and remarked when they were lost 
 to sight : * I hope Delphlne will be the happier 
 for her dear Joe, but he is a lymphatic per- 
 sonage.' 
 
 ' Don't use such strange words, WInny —
 
 2 28 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 lymphatic — what do you mean ? If anything 
 ails him it is idleness/ said her mother in a 
 severe tone. ' It is clear to me that Delphine 
 Mercier will have to keep two people instead 
 of one when she is married — and who can tell 
 how many more ? I should not like to see you 
 follow her example.* 
 
 * No fear, mother ! A wilderness of Joes 
 shall not tempt me,' cried Winny, and she 
 laughed with uncontrollable fun. 
 
 Mrs Hesketh's gravity was intensified rather 
 than otherwise. ' I don't believe, Winny, that 
 you know what you are laughing at,' she said. 
 * To me it appears a crying matter.' 
 
 But Winny's senseless mirth provoked none 
 but its own proper tears.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 FRESH SCENES AND PASTURES NEW. 
 
 It was towards six o'clock In the evening of 
 a sumptuous July day, after the fervent heat 
 and glow were abated, that Mildred Hutton 
 walked out into the garden, to wait and watch 
 for the coming of her friend Winifred Hesketh. 
 Somebody had said that the young lady could 
 not arrive much before seven, but Mildred's 
 impatience was less devouring when she was 
 in movement, and there was no lack of com- 
 pany in the garden. Her mother was there, 
 moving from rose-bush to rose-bush with an 
 eye of serene contemplation in the cool of the 
 day. Her brother was there, lounging under 
 the window where his young wife sat at her 
 perennial work-basket ; and four children were 
 there, tumbling on the grass in various, pro- 
 gressive stages of short-coated boy-baby-hood.
 
 230 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 They were in everybody's charge, and every- 
 body took a turn at leaving them to them- 
 selves, a wholesome neglect which each im- 
 proved in his own artless way. Besides these, 
 there were the dogs, Wiffle, Trump, and Snap. 
 It was a pretty pastoral enough. In the back- 
 ground the shingle-roofed farm-house, with a 
 stone porch and a chamber over, with big 
 chimney-stacks and windows wider than they 
 were high. In the foreground the green lawn 
 animated by those figures, a lawn not much 
 deeper than the house, and enclosed by a 
 dwarf wall, which was hidden on the one hand 
 by a fine spreading walnut-tree, with a rustic 
 seat round its bole, and on the other by shrubs, 
 and an arcade of pillar roses that led to the 
 garden-gate. The two families lived together. 
 That was the custom of the Huttons. The 
 farm was Mrs Hutton's for her life. The 
 mother was not ousted to make room for a 
 younger generation until death took her ; but 
 the son who was heir brought his wife home 
 to her, and they made one household. The 
 present young wife was a daughter of the
 
 FRESH SCENES AND PASTURES NEW. 23 I 
 
 rector of Cranby, the next parish but one. 
 And Mildred was the only daughter of her 
 mother left unmarried. 
 
 It was early in the morning of that beautiful 
 day when Winny Hesketh left Gotham to 
 come to Foston-under-Wold — that was the 
 name of Mildred Hutton's village — her home 
 was called The House. Winny travelled for 
 three hours outside the coach, passing on the 
 road Hoi worth Grange and the Mill and 
 Repton House, beyond which she got into 
 an unknown country — a country of wide pas- 
 ture-fields and corn-fields, of small plantations, 
 and close-cut hedgerows, which gradually 
 swelled into long rounded hills, and wooded 
 scaurs and ridges, that circumscribed the pro- 
 spect but added to its picturesqueness. Soon 
 after twelve the coach stopped at Lownde, 
 the nearest market-town to Foston, and here 
 in the market-place, at the Bull Inn, the young 
 traveller descended. In this best inn's best 
 room she waited till four o'clock, fed by the 
 landlady with sherry and biscuits, and occupy- 
 ing her vacancy by looking alternately at a
 
 232 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 fine, coloured series of Morland's pigs, and 
 out of one window after another at the absence 
 of passers-by. Castle Green was a fair to 
 Lownde market-place every day but Saturday. 
 
 At four o'clock the phaeton from Foston 
 was announced, with the additional informa- 
 tion that when the grey mare had bated half 
 an hour she would be ready to start again. 
 But it was five in this leisurely country before 
 she got under weigh, what with Bob's errands 
 to do, and parcels to wait for. Bob was a 
 groom in a drab coat and gaiters, an old fellow 
 who was not to be hurried any more than the 
 grey mare. He took a shrewd glint out of 
 his eye-corner at the young lady he was going 
 to drive to Foston, and feeling in his red 
 waistcoat pocket, handed her a document, 
 odorous of tobacco — 
 
 'That's t'explain — a no'at from Miss Mildred 
 that she charged me to give yo',* he said ; 
 and having ascertained that the luggage was 
 securely placed, he mounted to his seat and 
 shook the reins, and the grey mare trotted 
 off at a better pace than her appearance had
 
 FRESH SCENES AND PASTURES NEW. 233 
 
 promised. Winny read her note. Mildred 
 mentioned an accidental delay in Bob's setting 
 out to Lownde, and said that she should have 
 come herself to meet her, but there was a 
 parting guest to speed on his way, and with 
 his portmanteau and a saddle of her brother's 
 to go to the saddler's, there was no room for 
 her in the phaeton. Winny's spirits, damped 
 by the solitude of the strange inn, revived 
 again, and she was happy. 
 
 It was seven miles to Foston, and stoppages 
 on the road lengthened it to the time of ten. 
 There was to call at Cranby Rectory for an 
 answer to a message left there in the morning, 
 and there was a dispute about nails at the 
 *Shop. Winny took it all comfortably — she 
 was drawing very near to Mildred now. But 
 first the phaeton overtook a gentleman of 
 middle height and lean athletic frame, with a 
 thin brown cheek, and a brown beard, bright 
 eyes, and a cigar in his mouth. 
 
 ' Going to the House, Mr Durant, sir ? ' 
 asked Bob quite friendly. 
 
 ' Yes — but you cannot give me a lift — never
 
 2 34 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 mind, go on,' he replied, glancing at the young 
 lady's bonnet sideways — a bonnet hid a face 
 in those days — and then at the encumbered 
 back-seat. 
 
 ' Tek the reins, sir, I'll gle 'em yo' wi' 
 pleasure,' urged the obliging Bob. ' I hev to 
 go to Marrlshes afore dark, and Sims he'll 
 supper up t'auld mear when yo' git her whoam.' 
 
 ' Very good,' said Mr Durant. And nothing 
 loth, he tossed his cigar over the hedge, and 
 took the seat that Bob had vacated. For a 
 moment the bright eyes under the cottage 
 bonnet met the bright eyes under the grey 
 felt hat; the gentleman dumbly bowed, the 
 lady as dumbly bowed again, and ten minutes 
 later the grey mare brought them to a stand at 
 the garden-door. 
 
 There Mildred Hutton met her friend. * O 
 you dear child, I thought you were never 
 coming! How tired you must be of waiting 
 at the inn ! ' cried she, and folded Winny in 
 her arms with loving kisses. 
 
 Winny's face glowed with pleasure. ' I am 
 not tired. It has been a beautiful journey —
 
 FRESH SCENES AND PASTURES NEW. 235 
 
 you are taller than ever, Mildred! Stoop 
 down that I may kiss you again/ Mr Durant 
 nodded to Mildred over Winny's head, and 
 drove round to the stable. 
 
 In the porch was Mildred's mother, much 
 like Mildred herself, in a widow's cap, waiting 
 to add her welcome, and coming from the 
 drawing-room, with a little boy by the hand, 
 was her brother's wife. They were kind and 
 cordial. Winny liked her reception, and with 
 a warning that tea would be ready before they 
 were, the girls went upstairs together. 
 
 Winny was to share Mildred's room, of 
 course, else where w^ould have been their con- 
 fidences — those blameless delights of girlish 
 friendship ? Winny was ever softly deliberate 
 in her movements. ' Let me take my time, 
 and I shall have the sooner done,' said she, in 
 reply to Mildred^s exhortation to make haste. 
 There she stood in her petticoats, shaking 
 down and re-coiline the treasure of her hair, 
 which was dark in the shadows, and auburn 
 where its ripples caught the sun. Mildred 
 began to laugh, and laughed with an enjoying.
 
 236 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 foolish mirthfulness. *What at?' Winny 
 begged to know. 
 
 ' At you, at you, my dear ! ' cried her 
 friend. ' Remember, I have not seen you in 
 your petticoats since I left the old school, and 
 you are all curves where you used to be 
 angles. Here's a dimple in your little back' 
 — Mildred stooped to kiss it — * and your bonny 
 arms are as round as baby's ! ' Winny turned 
 to see her dimples in the glass. 'And the 
 shell of an ear, and the pretty, proud chin, 
 and the naughty, naughty lip that curls, and 
 says such savage things' — kissing her again. 
 Mildred was inclined to fondle her all over, 
 she loved her so tenderly, — was herself so 
 caressinof, so affectionate. 
 
 'At this rate, I shall never be dressed,' said 
 Winny with an air of suffering patience and 
 reasonableness. 
 
 Mildred sat down again and watched the 
 completion of her friend's toilette. Winny put 
 on the wedding-silk — Mildred was in dove- 
 coloured silk. The fashion for girls at that 
 period was a modest simplicity. They wore
 
 FRESH SCENES AND PASTURES NEW. 237 
 
 their own hair only, with a silver pin in the knot 
 at the back, or a silver arrow, and a braid 
 twisted above the ear, and falling behind it 
 in a wavy curl. Their evening dress had a 
 plain skirt rather long, an open sleeve rather 
 short, and a boddice folded open, leaving the 
 round young throat bare above white softnesses 
 of frill and tucker, except for the gleam of a 
 gold necklet or the contrast of a velvet-band 
 clasped with a jewel. Mrs Hesketh had made 
 over to Winny all the few trinkets she pos- 
 sessed, and Winny wore her mother's pearl 
 ring to-night, and fastened her black velvet 
 with a little oval brooch and pendant locket, 
 composed of an amethyst and rows of seed 
 pearls. 
 
 * You are a perfect darling, Winny ! I wonder 
 whether you have any notion how pretty you 
 are ? ' Mildred said contemplating her with a 
 sort of feminine rapture. 
 
 Winny's eyes softened and sweetened, but 
 she said quite coolly : ' Oh yes ! I am not im- 
 posing, but I call myself nicely finished.' 
 
 * Nicely finished, indeed ! That's a new
 
 2^8 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 O 
 
 descriptive term — is it the way you speak of 
 your heroines ? When Is our book to be 
 written that we planned together, Winny — eh ? ' 
 They were on their descent downstairs now, 
 Winny tucked under Mildred's arm in the old 
 Manor School style, and feeling quite at home 
 there. 
 
 * O Mildred, I have nearly completed a 
 tale — lo7t£', long enough for a whole volume — 
 I get up at five o'clock at Hall Green, and so 
 I have an hour before the children are ready — 
 lessons begin at seven. I've brought it', Winny 
 whispered, all at once becoming serious, earnest, 
 impressive, and comic. 
 
 * We will read it up in my room to-morrow,' 
 said Mildred confidential in her turn. 'And 
 I have made a song — a song that will sing — 
 I have made the melody too. You shall hear 
 it.' 
 
 They were now at the drawing-room door, 
 and Winny, released from her friend's embrace, 
 trimmed herself straight, and entered first. 
 There was a hubbub of laughter and conversa- 
 tion in the room — Mr Hutton laying down the
 
 FRESH SCENES AND PASTURES NE\V. 239 
 
 law, Mr Melhulsh, the vicar, propounding a 
 contrary argument, and emphasising it with 
 one forefinger on the other palm ; Mr Durant 
 lying back in an easy chair, gazing at the ceiling, 
 Mrs Hutton the elder listening perplexed, Mrs 
 Hutton the younger listening amused. 
 
 A sudden silence fell. Mr Hutton jumped 
 up, and greeted the visitor with hospitable 
 warmth, Mr Melhuish shook hands with Mil- 
 dred, and bowed to her introduction of her 
 friend. Mr Durant withdrew his eyes from the 
 ceiling, and turned them on the young stran- 
 ger with an amiable fastidious scrutiny. ' She 
 is a little lady,' was his private reflection. Then 
 everybody went to tea — to supper — whatever 
 you please to call it — not dinner : the family 
 at the farm dined punctually at one o'clock. 
 
 Winny sat between Mr Durant and her host, 
 and Mildred had Mr Melhuish very attentive 
 between her and her sister-in-law. Mr Melhuish 
 was a cheerful young country pastor, with a 
 strong voice and a loud laugh, and an early 
 pledge of clerical rotundity in a double chin 
 and prominent waistcoat. Mr Hutton was a
 
 240 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 farmer who farmed his own land to a profit, 
 and understood his business thoroughly. He 
 kept his hunter, took out his shooting-licence, 
 and lived in all respects as the smaller landed 
 gentry live, to which fast diminishing rank the 
 Huttons of Foston-under-Wold belonged. 
 
 The ladies of the family talked but little : 
 Mr Melhuish and Mr Hutton were still the 
 chief speakers. Winny was glad of her chicken- 
 wing and cup of tea. Mr Durant close by her, 
 drank claret instead, and Mr Melhuish did 
 likewise. They were not invited guests, but 
 chance guests — very frequent ones. There 
 were no formal parties at the House, but there 
 was plenty of hospitality. Both these gentle- 
 men lived as bachelors, and had a general per- 
 mission to drop in and share whatever was 
 going. There was always something going as 
 succulent as a solitary dinner, and Mr Melhuish 
 especially preferred what he called pot-luck to 
 his cenobite's meal. Mr Durant commonly dined 
 at home, and strolled to the House with his 
 after-dinner cigar, and back again, by way of 
 passing the evening, but to-day Mr Hutton
 
 FRESH SCENES AND PASTURES NEW. 24 1 
 
 had bidden him come at seven, for IMildred's 
 clever friend was coming, and they should want 
 somebody to talk to her. Yes, Winny had 
 been spoken of beforehand as ' Mildred's clever 
 friend,' and almost a prejudice created ; but as 
 she showed her wit to-night mostly by her 
 silence, her reputation for cleverness was not 
 remembered against her any more. If Durant 
 had come on pretence of talking it was a sheer 
 pretence; for he was almost as silent as his 
 neighbour, and he went away early — did not 
 stay many minutes in the drawing-room after 
 tea. 
 
 But the pastor lingered. He was too, too 
 plainly in the presence where he would ever 
 be ; and when Mildred, at his humble request, 
 opened the piano, and sang him a song, the 
 expression of his jolly face was that of a man 
 in sweetest clover. Ten o'clock struck by the 
 clock in the hall, and still he lingered. Young 
 Mrs Hutton excused herself on the plea of a 
 little voice in the nursery, and vanished; old 
 Mrs Hutton folded up her knitting, and re- 
 marked to Winny that she ought to rest well 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 242 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 after her long journey, and Mildred closed the 
 piano ; but, still he did not go. Not until Mr 
 Hutton yawned, and mentioned the necessity of 
 being early in the morning to ride to Lownde 
 market, did he say that he thought it must be 
 almost time to shut up. Nobody asked him to 
 stay a little longer. He went, and Mildred 
 laughed at him ; for which her mother rebuked 
 her, and her brother observed that Melhuish 
 was becoming a bit of a bore, and he wished he 
 would take himself off at ten, if he must needs 
 come so often. 
 
 ' He is gone, at last, and now, Winny dear, 
 we'll go ; for by your eyes you are sleepy/ said 
 Mildred gaily. 
 
 ' Good-night, girls — don't talk till the small 
 hours,' said Mr Hutton, and his mother repeated 
 the admonition more gravely. 
 
 But what was the use of it ? The friends 
 had not met for over a year, and their drowsy 
 eyes were still open and their tongues busy 
 when the clock in the hall tolled one. Then 
 they made a strong resolution to talk no more, 
 and except for Mildred saying: 'Winny, are
 
 FRESH SCENES AND PASTURES NEW. 243 
 
 you asleep yet ? I just want to tell you ' — they 
 kept it ; for Winny did not answer. She was 
 accustomed to sleep her very^ best, as a matter 
 of duty to her work next morning, and she 
 was already lost in the downy oblivion of 
 slumber.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 IN THE WALLED GARDEN. 
 
 The interminable quality of feminine con- 
 fidences may well be a wonder to men. It 
 was not ten o'clock when Mildred Hutton 
 carried Winny off under her arm to walk In 
 the walled garden — a fruit garden apart from 
 the house — and they were walking there still 
 when the bell rang that gave. warning of dinner 
 — three mortal hours of unceasing talk, and for 
 one word of WInny's, one thousand of Mil- 
 dred's. Winny had, Indeed, no story to tell, 
 and Mildred had two. 
 
 There was a commodious arbour In that 
 garden, and there they entered for a space 
 Avhile Mildred showed Winny one of those 
 libels on the human face divine that passed 
 current as portraits In the nonage of photo- 
 graphy. Winny studied it profoundly. ' I
 
 IN THE WALLED GARDEN. 245 
 
 should say it was a fine face — a good face,' 
 was her opinion deHvered with brevity and 
 assurance. 
 
 'It is a beautiful face,' said Mildred, and 
 took the libel into her hand tenderly. * Poor 
 Frank ! When shall I see him again ? Shall 
 I ever see him again, Winny ? ' 
 
 ' You don't write — you never hear of each 
 other except through third persons — and you 
 have not met since you exchanged rings two 
 years ago.' Winny was only reciting the 
 heads of INIildred's confession reflectively. 
 After a considerable pause, she asked : * You 
 love him ?' 
 
 ' Dearly, dearly' said Mildred, and that was 
 the text of all that came after. She rose up 
 suddenly, and took Winny into her embrace ; 
 and round, and round, and round they went, 
 monotonous miles round that walled garden, 
 discoursing of poor Frank, his home, his father 
 and mother, his brothers and sisters, friends 
 and connections, and all about him. 
 
 Winny speculated once whether he amused 
 himself this while, and if he did, how ?
 
 246 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 ' Because,' added she, ' I am thinking of 
 that Mr Melhuish.' 
 
 Mildred coloured, and laughed a little. 
 * My mother encourages him. I don't — In- 
 deed, WInny, / don t] she asseverated. ' But 
 if Frank and I are to be parted, he would be 
 as good as another. I am not like you ; I 
 should be a miserably discontented woman 
 if I had to live solitary. And they all think 
 Melhulsh a kind fellow.' 
 
 This sounded dreadful to WInny — shocking. 
 She stood still, and looked at her friend, 
 amazed, incoherent. ' I should call that almost 
 as bad as the seventh commandment — to 
 marry Mr Melhulsh, while you can say of 
 Frank that you love him " dearly, dearlyT ' 
 
 Mildred made no answer, she only walked a 
 little faster — to break out presently in another 
 strain. * You know nothing about it, WInny ! 
 You have such fine theoretical notions. I 
 should never be astonished to hear that you 
 had fallen in love perversely.' 
 
 ^ Don't predict me such a calamity, Mildred,' 
 expostulated WInny, laughing but rueful. ' Idle
 
 IN THE WALLED GARDEN. 247 
 
 words of that sort have a way of bringing them- 
 selves to pass. There's my brother Dick — one 
 day, In a pet, uncle Hayland told him that the 
 men of our family never did any good, and when 
 Dick wants an excuse for his laziness, and the. 
 scrapes it gets him into, he quotes his uncle, 
 and asks, how can he help it ? ' 
 
 ' I did not mean to be unkind ! ' Mildred 
 took her companion's face between her two 
 hands with repentant affection. * But you 
 have that look in your eyes, Winny. If you 
 fancy there is nothing in love but what you 
 can foresee and control, some day, to your 
 sorrow, you'll find out your mistake.' 
 
 ' No woman can cheat her fate,' Winny 
 rejoined. * It is just because I believe your 
 love for Frank to be true, strong and per- 
 manent, that I protest against Mr Melhuish. 
 I put myself, in imagination, in your place.' 
 
 Winny could not quite do that. She saw 
 Mildred's natural sweetness strangely thwarted, 
 thoughts of herself ever uppermost, an irritable 
 restless humour urging her to constant change 
 and excitement. She sought for peace in a
 
 248 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 vast effusion of reminiscences, but found only 
 a more feverish impatience. She was some- 
 times very unhappy, very uneasy ; one hour 
 dull and melancholy, the next nettlesome and 
 perplexing. Her sister-in-law was long since 
 tired with hearing her, and the whole family 
 would have rejoiced if the jovial and comfort- 
 able vicar could have effected a diversion of 
 her love-sick mind in his own favour. Young 
 Mrs Hutton quickly discerned that Mildred's 
 friend was not throwing the weight of her 
 influence into that scale, but the contrary, and 
 set her down as a romantic young woman — 
 and when a happy matron, the mother of four 
 boys, calls a young virgin romantic, she means 
 her anything rather than a compliment. 
 
 The day lagged somewhat after dinner, but 
 the house could never be oppressively quiet 
 with those active little children in it, and 
 WInny amused the two who were not at siesta. 
 Mildred, moody, exhausted and silent, sat 
 sewing until four o'clock, when she abruptly 
 proposed to walk along the road to meet her 
 brother, returning from Lownde.
 
 IN THE WALLED GARDEN. 249 
 
 'You will find it dusty, and very hot yet,' 
 said her mother in a voice of remonstrance ; 
 but Mildred only said : ' Come, Winny,' as if 
 impatient of a check, and Winny submissively 
 went. 
 
 It was, indeed, the hottest hour of the day, 
 and the summer dust lay deep, and white as 
 lime upon the road ; but Mildred plunged 
 afresh into her sea of troubles, and knew 
 nothing but that its waves were running almost 
 over her head. 
 
 * Sometimes I think I shall go mad,' said 
 she vehemently. ' O Winny, can you not com- 
 fort me with your cool reason ? ' 
 
 * What was your last news of him, and how 
 old is it ? ' Winny inquired. 
 
 * On the tenth of May, I heard of him. Miss 
 Cradock was at Norminster, and met him in 
 the street — you know Miss Cradock lives at 
 Lownde, and we stayed at his father's house 
 together the first time I was there. She is 
 rich, and if Frank had chosen her instead of 
 me, that would have pleased them all. But he 
 did not'
 
 250 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 * Did he send you any message ? ' 
 
 ' He said there was no change at home — 1 
 understood what he meant me to know by that. 
 He is in as much subjection to his parents as a 
 young Frenchman. Old Madame, his grand- 
 mother, is French, and from her the whole 
 household takes its tone. Such a tiny despot, 
 Winny, and she objected to my great size.' 
 Mildred could not help a laugh at this recol- 
 lection, and Winny contrived to keep the talk 
 at that level. 
 
 ' There is the post — what prevents him writ- 
 ing ? He cannot be kept in leading-strings 
 for ever,' she said. 
 
 ' Have I not told you ? My mother is proud, 
 and she made me promise that I would neither 
 receive his letters nor write to him until I am 
 of age. I am not so penniless as they imagine. 
 I shall have four hundred pounds a year of my 
 own the day I am one-and-twenty. And that 
 is only six weeks off — my birthday is in 
 September.' 
 
 * O Mildred, live in hope ! I don't see any 
 lawful impediment that can hinder your happi-
 
 IN THE WALLED GARDEN. 25 I 
 
 ness If he be constant. Let the French grand- 
 mother hear that you have a comfortable 
 dot — the dot goes for very much in French 
 marriages.' 
 
 ' It is the first consideration. I never told 
 Frank that I should have any money — I never 
 gave it a thought, nor he either probably. And 
 when my want of it was made an objection my 
 mother forbade me to tell him ' 
 
 ' Somebody else may have told him. The 
 time draws near when he must assert his own 
 will or give you your release — that is why you 
 are disquieted — I think I'll trust him. I like 
 his face In his portrait ' — WInny looked wicked. 
 
 * There you go, WInny, making sport of us ! 
 I know you are laughing at what you call my 
 exaggerations. I wish I had a glass to show 
 you the curl of your lip at this minute.' 
 Mildred seemed to rail, but she was pleased. 
 She brightened altogether, became oblivious of 
 length and distance, and went on and on until 
 Winny, ready to drop with fatigue, spied a 
 stile by the road, and asked if they had not 
 better rest.
 
 252 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 The stile was in the shadow of the bushy 
 hedge-row, and Winny stepping over it, they 
 perched on the top-bar facing one another, and 
 Mildred remarked with apparent surprise, that 
 they had come over two miles, and that they 
 would have to walk back the same way. While 
 between the hedges the country had been hidden 
 from view, but now Winny had a fine prospect 
 at her feet — in the foreground a great field of 
 wheat, ripening to the harvest ; in the middle- 
 distance a picturesque tiled house in a garden, 
 from the gateway of which a broken avenue of 
 yew-trees stretched across pastures full of cattle 
 to the parish church of Rushmead, the next 
 village to Foston. The back-ground was of 
 woods and distant hills. The westering sun 
 glittered in the upper windows of the house 
 which had fivQ gables in front, three on one 
 side of the porch, and two on the other. It 
 was admirably constructed to retain the dusky 
 shadows towards evening, and. won Winny's 
 artistic eye in an instant. 
 
 ' Do you ever sketch now, Mildred ? I
 
 IN THE WALLED GARDEN. 253 
 
 must have a drawing of that house in the valley. 
 Who lives there ? ' she asked. 
 
 ' Oh, that is Rushmead Old Hall, Durant's 
 house — my brother farms his land. It is really 
 very pretty when you are near it, and well 
 kept, though he is not much there,' Mildred 
 said unconcernedly. ^ I have given up my 
 sketching, but you shall go some day.' 
 
 Winny Hesketh felt a curiosity about Mr 
 Durant, and it was consonant with her specu- 
 lations that he should be the master of that 
 ancient and lonely house in the fields. She 
 did not ask any questions, but Mildred 
 being in the vein, with very slight en- 
 couragement went on to talk of him, and 
 Winny listened with an interest that grew by 
 indulgence. 
 
 * Leonard Durant was destined for holy 
 orders, but he did like the prodigal son in the 
 parable — he asked his father to give him the 
 portion that fell to him, and w^ent ranging about 
 the world instead of going into the Church. I 
 don't mean that he was wild, but he was an 
 enterprising young fellow, and could not resign
 
 2 54 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 himself to a quiet life. He was the third son 
 when he left home, but when he came back 
 there was no one to welcome him — only the 
 empty house. His father and his two brothers 
 had died in his absence, and Rushmead was 
 his. The neighbours tried to clip his wings, 
 and keep him there, but in less than six months 
 he tired of it ; so my brother took the land, 
 and he was soon off again. He is an incor- 
 rigible vagabond now, but such a pleasant, 
 generous man — we all like Leonard Durant at 
 our house. He is a prime favourite with my 
 mother. She would have liked him for a son- 
 in-law once upon a time — before my sister Kate 
 was married to Merlewood.' 
 
 Winny was not astonished to hear that. Mr 
 Durant seemed to her a man to be universally 
 a favourite. 
 
 While Mildred was still speaking there was 
 the sound of a horse upon the road. The rider 
 appeared in sight, and it was Mr Hutton. He 
 reined up when he saw the girls, and asked 
 how they came to be there— adding without 
 pause for explanation : * Don't let Mildred walk
 
 IN THE WALLED GARDEN. 255 
 
 you off your feet, Miss Hesketh — she Is apt to 
 forget that a little pony cannot trot so fast and 
 far as a tall horse without distress. The visita- 
 tion is at Rockbro' next week, Milly — I shall 
 have to go with Melhuish. It would be a nice 
 outing for you girls if Miss Hesketh has not 
 seen Rockbro'. I'll speak to my mother if 
 you would both like it.' 
 
 Mildred would like it extremely. Winny 
 had not seen Rockbro', and would like it too. 
 ' Fanny will go to look after you — Fanny is 
 my wife. Miss Hesketh. We will put up at 
 the Crown, and make two days of it. If you 
 intend to come home to tea, it is time you were 
 moving — you will not be waited for.' With this 
 warning admonition Mr Hutton cantered 
 off 
 
 The girls immediately set their faces towards 
 the House, and walked apace, yet not so 
 fast but that Mildred had breath to tell how it 
 was at Rockbro' she had parted last from 
 Frank, and how it was from friends of his 
 there she had her most direct intelligence of 
 him.
 
 256 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 Mr Hutton chose a propitious moment for 
 speaking to his mother — on Sunday afternoon 
 in the walled garden, whither they had all 
 adjourned for dessert and child-play in the 
 arbour. Mr Durant was there. He had just 
 stepped over to see how they were getting on 
 at the House (his custom often of a Sunday 
 afternoon) and when Mr Hutton had won his 
 mother's consent (a visibly reluctant consent 
 with regard to her daughter), he turned to his 
 neighbour, and said : ' You had better come 
 with us, Durant — make one more of our party. 
 The more, the merrier.' 
 
 Durant seemed to debate with himself the 
 pros and cons. At length he answered : ' I 
 don't care if I do. But Jem has lamed my 
 brown horse, and how am I to get there ? You 
 will all ride, of course.' 
 
 ' Yes. Fanny would hardly go else, nor Mil- 
 dred either, I suspect. That is half the fun of the 
 expedition — to cross the wolds, and have their 
 horses at Rockbro'. But there is Miss Hesketh, 
 by the by — do you ride. Miss Hesketh ? ' 
 
 Winny blushed, ashamed of her utter in-
 
 IN THE WALI.ED GARDEN. 257 
 
 capacity, but confessed that she never rode in 
 her Hfe. 
 
 ' Then I'll drive Miss Hesketh In the phaeton 
 — the grey mare can do the distance ? ' said Mr 
 Durant. 
 
 * Yes, she can do it easily,' Mr Hutton replied. 
 ' But we will find you a mount, Durant. There 
 is -the bay colt, if you like ! ' 
 
 Then Mrs Hutton suggested that Bob could 
 be spared to drive Miss Hesketh, and their 
 bags and boxes ; and he would be useful also at 
 Rockbro' with the horses. Mr Hutton said 
 * Yes — perhaps that would be the best ar- 
 rangement.' 
 
 * It will be rather dull work for my dear little 
 Winny,' whispered Mildred, pouting and caress- 
 ing her. 
 
 Winny looked up in Mildred's face with 
 sweet eyes, and answered despotically : 'No, It 
 won't! If Bob is not surly, I am not proud. 
 I shall make him talk ; and tell me wold-country 
 stories.' 
 
 Durant was observing her. She was rosy, 
 eager and shy ; she wanted to be in nobody's 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 2 5q THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 way. He was a warm-hearted, impulsive 
 person, and thought it a pity the little thing 
 should not have her pleasure like the rest. And 
 in that sentiment he spoke. * I'll be your 
 friend's escort, Miss Mildred, if she will allow 
 me. I'll try to be as good company as Bob, 
 Miss Hesketh. I know the wold-country 
 stories, too.' 
 
 It was then taken for settled. Mildred was 
 sorry that Winny would not have the exhilara- 
 tion of the beautiful ride by the bridle-track 
 over the wolds — the phaeton must follow the 
 road, of course. But Winny bade her not spoil 
 her own enjoyment by any regret ; for she was 
 sure the drive would be beautiful too, and an 
 immense treat to her.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 AN OUTIXG FOR THE GIRLS. 
 
 The night before the proposed expedition to 
 Rockbro' when the girls went up to bed, 
 Mildred stopped at the stair-case window, and 
 said : ' Listen to the rain, Winny — and that's 
 thunder. What a pity if we cannot go to- 
 morrow ! ' 
 
 A pity, indeed ! Nevertheless, with the 
 buoyant confidence of hopeful youth, they pro- 
 ceeded to pack their best bonnets and pretty 
 evening silk dresses for the table-d/hote at the 
 Crown, and a variety of other matters not very 
 likely to be called into requisition, but desirable 
 to have in case of need. Winny's feeling was 
 that providence could not be so unkind as to 
 disappoint them of their innocent frolic — a brief, 
 intense pleasure for these country girls, to be 
 considered in proportion to the general dulness
 
 26o THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 of their bucolic lives. And Winny's trust in 
 the good-will of providence was not misplaced. 
 She opened her eyes at four o'clock in the 
 morning, rose, and looked out. The dawn was 
 clear, the air fresh, the summer trees, long 
 athirst, were glittering still with the abundance 
 of rain ; the far-seen, winding road had lost its 
 lime-white glare, and was cool, moist brown — 
 the July dust was thoroughly laid, and the 
 storm of last night had most opportunely pre- 
 pared them a day of ten thousand. 
 
 Mr Hutton came downstairs smart as a 
 bridegroom, with a flower in his button-hole, 
 and a new blue tie. Mr Melhuish, invited to 
 come to breakfast, did not fail, and everybody 
 wore a festive countenance. It had been agreed 
 that Bob should drive Miss Hesketh to Rush- 
 mead, which was all on the way to Rockbro,' to 
 pick up Mr Durant, but when the phaeton was 
 brought round to the garden door at the House, 
 Durant was there — he was ready, and thought 
 he might as well walk over as wait, kicking 
 his heels at the church corner. 
 
 The phaeton was to have an hour's start of
 
 AN OUTING FOR THE GIRLS. 26 1 
 
 the riders, but Mildred promised her friend that 
 they would be at the Crown first ; because the 
 drive by the road was longer than the bridle-path 
 across the wolds, and the grey mare would want 
 a longer bait mid- way the journey. Mildred, 
 in her riding-habit, was a new sight to 
 Winny, and she became it admirably. Winny 
 herself, in a brown dunstable bonnet trimmed 
 with three shades of brown ribbon, a white net 
 quilling under, and a blue pent-house, technically 
 called an ' ugly,' over, to save her eyes and 
 complexion from the sun, had an air of extreme 
 seclusion ; and when ]\Irs Hutton the elder had 
 seen her scrupulously enveloped in a drab dust 
 cloak, for the preservation of her fawn carme- 
 lite dress, anybody meeting the phaeton upon 
 the road might have asked Mr Durant what 
 old woman he had got there. That, however, 
 could not prevent Winny's eyes shining with a 
 clear lustre or her cheeks blushing like roses 
 — she had such a happy face when she was 
 happy, an expression that created a sympathy. 
 
 As they drove off, Mr Hutton with gay 
 good-humour cried after them : ' Take care of
 
 262 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 her, Durant ; don't upset her ! I daresay she Is 
 precious to somebody ! * 
 
 ' Or will be ! ' replied Durant in the same 
 vein, throwing a glance behind him. 
 
 Winny looked back too — at Mildred bare- 
 headed, shading her eyes from the sun, at Wiffle, 
 just let loose, jumping up with exuberant morn- 
 ing greeting to his master, at the biggest of 
 the little boys carefully dipping his polished 
 shoe in a pool that the rain had left. They all 
 turned Into the garden. 
 
 ' I like your young friend, Milly ; she is a 
 nice, bright little girl, ' Mr Hutton said, and he 
 shut the garden-door. He was denying in his 
 own private mind the accusation thrown out 
 against Winny by his wife — that she was 
 romantic. 
 
 * I knew she was nice, or I should not have 
 wished to bring her here,' replied Mildred 
 cheerfully, and then she hurried indoors to 
 finish her toilette, not to be to wait for when 
 the horses were at the door. She had earned 
 the character of lag-last, the dilatory member 
 of the household, since her late troubles.
 
 AN OUTING FOR THE GIRLS. 263 
 
 Mr Durant was a man who appreciated an 
 intelligent silence. When the grey mare, after 
 a spurt at starting, bethought herself that she 
 might have far to go, and fell into her usual 
 steady trot, he made the self-evident remark : 
 * Now we are off,' and Miss Hesketh's acquies- 
 cent *Yes,' breathed in a voice of satisfaction, 
 released him from further effort. 
 
 Winny had been accommodated with a 
 cushion at her back and a cushion at her feet, 
 that she might sit perfectly at ease, and when 
 Durant looked down he could see her face 
 calmly beaming, her lips a little apart, her eyes 
 as restful as if there were nothing more in 
 the world for her to desire. Her whole aspect 
 and attitude plainly said : ' Don't trouble to 
 entertain me. I am quite comfortable, thank 
 you.' And Durant obeyed the intimation. 
 
 At Rushmead church-corner they exchanged 
 another word : ' The rector is gone — there are 
 the wheel-marks of his gig,' Durant said, 
 pointing down the turn to the rectory- 
 house, and Winny's monosyllable did duty 
 again.
 
 264 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 Presently after the gentleman inquired : 
 * Have you travelled at all, Miss Hes- 
 keth ? ' 
 
 ' I have never been further from Gotham 
 than I am now,' Winny replied, and then recol- 
 lected herself, and added : ' Oh yes, I have been 
 to Avranches in Normandy for a few months 
 with my cousin Lucy Hayland and Madame 
 Bouvier, her governess. We lived in the house 
 of Doctor Bouvier, Madame's father/ 
 
 'And you went to the Mont St Michel, and 
 visited the fortress-abbey, no doubt ? ' 
 
 * No. We never saw it nearer than across 
 the sands. Madame did not make expeditions 
 for us — we were children.* 
 
 * Are you fond of much change and variety ? * 
 'No, I don't think I am— but I have not 
 
 been tempted. I like to know every stone of a 
 place as I know Gotham, and every tree and 
 field and lane as I know the country about Hall 
 Green/ 
 
 ' You are the governess at Hall Green. That 
 is a melancholy existence, is it not ? ' 
 
 ' I don't find it so. I have plenty to do, and
 
 AN OUTING FOR THE GIRLS. 265 
 
 the children are nice. I am within reach of 
 home too, which is a great thing — I see my 
 mother almost every week/ 
 
 These communications were succeeded by 
 a relapse into silence which lasted until the 
 grey mare brought them to Cranby. There 
 the parsonage stood upon the road-side, and 
 several ladies were clustered at the gate. They 
 might have been a large family of sisters, but 
 the one amongst them who was the mother of 
 the rest, cried out : ' How do you do, Mr 
 Durant ? I suppose Fanny and the others are 
 riding across the wold ? Papa will fall in with 
 them, we hope.* 
 
 Mr Durant echoed the hope, and said to the 
 girls : * You are none of you gone, then ? ' 
 They shook their heads as who would reply : 
 * No such luck for i^s/^ and pursued by a 
 chorus of good-byes and unselfish good wishes 
 for everybody's enjoyment at Rockbro', the 
 travellers continued on their way. 
 
 ' There is very little fun in the lives of girls,' 
 Durant reflected with a pensive air. 
 
 * You appear to pity us ? What a blessing
 
 266 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 we don't feel our need of commiseration ! ' said 
 Winny, quietly amused. 
 
 Durant glanced at her, taken rather aback, 
 perhaps more by her tone than by her words. 
 He recollected that she was called Mildred 
 Hutton's clever friend, and rejoined accord- 
 ingly : ' I admit that you look sufficiently con- 
 tented. Miss Hesketh. The chief thing is an 
 object in life.' 
 
 Winny was not used to give in her adhesion 
 to impromptu general propositions, so she said 
 nothing, but fell into a considering humour. An 
 object in life — pray, what might that signify for 
 independent persons of her sex ? The object 
 in life of most young women is to marry, and 
 after that to guide their household, and bring 
 up children honourably — but that was cer- 
 tainly not her object; her mother had in- 
 structed her too carefully of the unwisdom 
 of it. To be a successful governess was 
 something, but was that worthy of being 
 called an object in life ? Winny was inclined 
 to think not. 
 
 ' Have you cracked the nut, at last ? ' Durant
 
 AN OUTING FOR THE GIRLS. 267 
 
 asked when her countenance gave signs of 
 having reduced the problem to a conclusion. 
 
 He did not stay for her to reply, but began 
 to talk of himself, of his own object in life, and 
 how it had answered. All he said mio^ht have 
 been proclaimed at Lownde market-cross, but 
 to Winny it had the charm of a spontaneous 
 confidential effusion. It is always interesting 
 to hear men talk of themselves. In the first 
 place they know more of that individual self 
 than any other person knows ; and if they make 
 a more favourable estimate of their motives, 
 principles, and desires than outsiders make, who 
 can judge them only by their acts, their fruits, 
 they reveal what they fain would have been, 
 and perhaps, what they were meant to be. 
 Durant talked pleasantly and shrewdly; he had 
 gone out to see the world, and had seen it In 
 all quarters. But Winny missed a link, missed 
 the clue of what temper he had seen it in. She 
 wanted to know why — why he had broken the 
 thread of his life in England, where, he told 
 her, at Cambridge, he had done * fairly well,' and 
 had come out fifth wTangler. He gave her
 
 268 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 some amusing details of his knapsack journeys 
 beyond the highways of travel, where his seeing 
 the world had degenerated often into painful, 
 shabby vagabondage. It did not appear that 
 he had ever done any good, or had set any aim 
 before him. To see was his object, and never 
 to be satisfied with seeing was his success. 
 And where his hearer could read between the 
 lines of his talk, the residuum of his far and 
 wide observation was the same dull sense of in- 
 sufficiency and vanity that clogs more or less 
 the wheels of all men's lives. It is not to be 
 imagined that he lost in interest by this. On 
 the contrary, the sub-acid flavour of his ex- 
 perience had a delightful piquancy for her 
 mental palate. The touches of nature in his 
 allusions to the past years revealed just so 
 much of self-regret and self-pity as are consis- 
 tent with a man's recognition that he has 
 missed the happy hour of fortune by his own 
 fault, and with just so much cynicism as betrays 
 that while he is not reconciled to its escape, he 
 distrusts fortune too deeply to hope that she will 
 ever give him the chance of overtaking it again.
 
 AN OUTING FOR THE GIRLS. 269 
 
 Winny listened with a very simple, quiet, 
 undemonstrative manner. Her eyes had soft- 
 ened, but there was a touch of irony In her 
 voice and look as she said : ' And you have 
 done nothing — not so much as thrown your 
 adventures into the shape of a book ? ' 
 
 * No — and I claim no credit for that. I have 
 no turn for phrase-making.' 
 
 Another long spell of silence ensued, which 
 brought them in sight of the square tower of 
 Lownde church. As they drove into the 
 town, Durant said : ' Now, Miss Hesketh, 
 the question is, shall we bait here for an hour, 
 or shall we go on three miles further, to Beilby- 
 Steeple, and bait there ? ' Winny was ready 
 to accede to either plan — to whichever he 
 thought best. ' You have spent some hours 
 contemplating Lownde market-place on a lay- 
 day, I know — very well, then, we will go 
 forward to Beilby. My rector has gone on, for 
 I don't see his gig at the Bull. We shall catch 
 him up, and be in time to eat our luncheon to- 
 gether.' 
 
 Beyond Lownde the country was more hilly
 
 270 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 but more bare of wood, and Beilby-Steeple 
 crowned one of the highest elevations, a land- 
 mark for twenty miles round on a clear day. 
 The village was on the slope of the hill, and 
 the roadside inn at the foot of it. The vener- 
 able gig of the rector of Rushmead was at the 
 door, and his old black horse was being led to 
 the stable. The rector himself was on the door- 
 step, and hailed the arrival of Durant with 
 benignant cordiality. He was a large-framed 
 man, careless in his dress, genial in his manner 
 — one of those old-fashioned parsons who still 
 preach the good, old family sermon, stuffed with 
 sound doctrine, and charged with wholesome 
 precept for daily practice. Durant and he often 
 smoked a pipe together, and talked of Cam- 
 bridge. Miss Hesketh was introduced to him 
 as Miss Hutton's friend, on a visit at the House, 
 and was then escorted by the landlady to a 
 rustic parlour, where she could rest and be 
 thankful pending the preparation of fried ham 
 and eggs — the best, and very good too, that 
 Beilby Inn could provide at so short a notice. 
 The gentlemen paraded up and down on the
 
 AN OUTING FOR THE GIRLS. 27 1 
 
 shady side of the way to straighten their legs, 
 and only came in when they were called ; and 
 they did the same after lunch until their respec- 
 tive beasts were harnessed to start ao^ain. The 
 grey mare did not any more lose sight of her 
 neighbour the black horse until they reached 
 Rockbro' ; and then the clergyman stopped short 
 in the outskirts of the town at a modest old red 
 house, by the sign of the Shovel and Cross-keys, 
 good-humouredly avowing that his purse was 
 not company for the Crown. 
 
 Before the grey mare gained that fashionable 
 modern caravansary, she had a terribly long 
 and steep pull up hill. Durant got out of the 
 phaeton, and walked, but he would not allow 
 the young lady he was in charge of to fatigue 
 herself, though she would willingly. The 
 ascent lay landwards, and was covered with 
 scrub and inconsiderable trees, oaks chiefly, 
 which shut in the zigzag road and excluded all 
 prospect until the plateau at the top was won, 
 when there burst upon the view a magnificent 
 expanse of sea and sky, of cliff and castle, of 
 town and country. Winny Hesketh had seen
 
 272 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 nothing so beautiful. It was between five and 
 six o'clock, the hour of a July day when all is 
 most lovely, under warm lights, and soft, 
 suffused, lengthening shadows. 
 
 The Crown was the central building on the 
 terrace. The promenade was gay with gay 
 people, and about the portico of the hotel 
 lounged a few visitors, apparently weary of 
 staying out, but reluctant to go in. Neither 
 Mr 'Hutton, however, nor any of the party who 
 had ridden by the wold, were there, and when 
 Durant inquired of the manager of the hotel 
 whether they had arrived, he was told that they 
 had not. Winny was rather dismayed, but 
 Durant assured her they could not be long now. 
 They meant to bait at Merlewood, the home 
 of Mr Hutton's eldest married sister, and had 
 no doubt let more time slip by than they ought. 
 * You had better go in. Miss Hesketh ; the 
 rooms are engaged, I know,' he concluded, and 
 Winny went in. 
 
 There were several persons standing in the 
 hall, and as Winny Hesketh passed through it, 
 conducted by the manager, a young gentleman
 
 AN OUTIXG FOR THE GIRLS. 273 
 
 of remarkable elegance, who had been observ- 
 ing her from the moment the phaeton drew 
 up at the door, advanced a step or two diffi- 
 dently towards her. Winny looked at him, 
 and he looked at her with a perplexed, half- 
 recognition. The gentleman spoke first : * Are 
 you Miss Winifred ? ' he asked in a low voice. 
 ' Yes — are you Frank f ' she echoed more 
 softly still, and they laughed and blushed both 
 of them, and shook hands quite friendly. 
 * Mildred is coming ? ' said he. * Yes.' 
 
 In fact, Mildred was there already. 
 
 * Here they are, Miss Hesketh,' cried Durant, 
 who had remained on the look-out ; and she 
 turned back to the door. 
 
 The young gentleman of remarkable elegance 
 advanced intrepidly, and offered his help to 
 Mildred to alight. They exchanged, perhaps, 
 a dozen words, and their mutual understanding 
 seemed perfect. ' Yes, we are all here — my 
 father and mother and gran ma, too,' everybody 
 heard him tell her. 
 
 Mr Melhuish showed a very fallen counten- 
 ance, indeed, for a minute, and Mr Hutton 
 
 VOL I. S
 
 274 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 received a round-eyed note of exclamation from 
 his wife. But they both accorded a polite 
 recognition to their sister s favoured lover, and 
 behaved like reasonable, well-bred people of the 
 world, though their astonishment was as un- 
 welcome as it was complete. For it had been 
 hoped that Mr Melhuish might turn this pre- 
 sent opportunity to his advantage, and that 
 Mildred might go home engaged to the vicar. 
 Thus had her family proposed, but the little 
 god who guides the tender affairs of young 
 folks had otherwise disposed. 
 
 When Mildred and Winny were safe shut 
 up in their room to dress for dinner, Winny 
 begged to know how this meeting had come 
 about : ' By arrangement, or by kind interven- 
 tion of providence ? ' said she mischievously. 
 
 ' By kind intervention of providence, you 
 profane little person,' retorted Mildred ; and 
 sat down for a few blissful moments to return 
 silent thanks for it.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 PLEASANT ENTERTAINMENT. 
 
 The Crown Hotel maintained In the season a 
 table d'hote after the continental fashion. It 
 was patronised chiefly by the wealthy members 
 of provincial town society, who would take up 
 their abode for several weeks at a time in the 
 splendid apartments prepared to meet their 
 views of comfort ; and by a sprinkling of 
 simple country people, to whom two days at 
 the Crown was a dear morsel of pleasure, to 
 be enjoyed once in a life, and talked of for 
 ever. 
 
 There was a spacious drawing-room also 
 open to all the guests in the hotel, with a 
 balcony looking seawards ; and here for ten 
 minutes before the great bell sounded, Mildred 
 Hutton enjoyed the presence of her lover. 
 She had a sweet, gracious countenance, being
 
 276 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 happy; the event of the last hour had trans- 
 figured her, and her tall, willowy stature drew 
 every eye in admiration of her noble air as she 
 passed through the room. 
 
 It happened that in the arrangements of the 
 table the two families faced each other, and the 
 French grandmother gave herself up to be as 
 fascinating as it is the privilege of her sex 
 and nation to be. She was a stout little 
 woman of a most bird-like agility, with black 
 eyes, a wide sallow visage, a disagreeable 
 voice, and a rich propriety of taste in her 
 attire. Her son was large, fair, handsome 
 and thoroughly English, ruddy-cheeked, blue- 
 eyed, and his curly hair at fifty silvered already 
 — Mildred saw in him what her dear Frank 
 would some day be. The mother was a gentle, 
 pretty woman, not without shrewdness, and 
 overflowing with deference to gran'ma. She 
 manifested a real kindliness towards Mildred, 
 but the French grandmother no more than 
 formerly approved of the young lady in her 
 heart, though the discovery that she would 
 not be without dot had removed her only valid
 
 PLEASANT ENTERTAINMENT. 277 
 
 objection. Her desire was that her elder 
 grandson should perpetuate the French con- 
 nection, but on her attempting to urge it with 
 authority, he had rebelled, asserted his man- 
 hood, and his right to make his own choice, 
 had got his father's consent to his engagement 
 with Miss Hutton, and the promise of a certain 
 share in the business to support a separate 
 establishment on his marriage — for this young 
 Mr Jarvis (let him have his surname now) 
 well knew that Mildred Hutton would never 
 agree to live under the same roof with his 
 grandmother, even had he made that his own 
 wish ; and he did in some measure incline to- 
 wards French family ways and customs. 
 
 After dinner there was a rendezvous in the 
 balcony, which prefaced a stroll on the terrace^ 
 lengthening into the moonlight. The lovers 
 went their own way ; Mrs Hutton met with an 
 old acquaintance; MrMelhuish and his church- 
 warden walked into the town. Mr Durant 
 took pity on his companion of the morning, 
 who felt rather shunted by the appearance of 
 Mr Frank Jarvis upon the scene. That terrace-
 
 278 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 walk at Rockbro' in the summer moonlight Is 
 one of the finest In England. They went to 
 the end of It, where the country broke away 
 Into a vast mystery of moorland, indistinct and 
 dim as the great wide sea. They walked in 
 silence, as if they were people who had known 
 each other a long while, and were dispensed 
 from playing at polite observances. Others 
 were there before them, and amongst those 
 others Miss Denham who advanced a quick 
 step or two, and then checked herself with the 
 reflection that Winny seemed quite contented 
 in her present company, and might not care for 
 any addition to it. 
 
 The iron benches placed along the cliff for 
 the convenience of loungers were occupied for 
 the most part, and Durant invited Miss Hes- 
 keth to take a seat on a stone big enough for 
 two. Winny accepted the invitation, and when 
 Durant mechanically took out his cigar-case, 
 and toyed with a cigar unllghted, to be as kind 
 to him as he was to her, she was good enough 
 to say that she had no invincible objection to 
 smoke.
 
 PLEASANT ENTERTAINMENT. 2 79 
 
 * Have you not ? are you sure ? — or is it your 
 civility ? ' said he with eagerness, and being 
 convinced that she spoke honest truth, he 
 enjoyed his evening weed in perfect comfort. 
 
 There was not a breath of wind, and not a 
 cloud in the sky. The rustle of the waves 
 breaking far below on the shingly beach, 
 reached the ear in a soft, multitudinous murmur. 
 Distinct, but flat as a tintless shadow against 
 the sky, ran the outline of the Castle on the 
 huge north cliff, and in the hollow of the arc 
 formed by the bay rose circle above circle the 
 lights of the town, from the harbour where lay 
 the crowded masts of the fishing-fleet and the sea- 
 going ships, to the topmost ridge of the cliffs, of 
 which the Crown Terrace formed the southern 
 extremity. At intervals there was a strain of 
 music from some open window, a light, bright 
 touch on the piano, playing an air from ' Faust,' 
 made into a waltz. It was near and distinct 
 enough to influence Winny's quiet thoughts, and 
 the silence, when it ceased, felt almost oppres- 
 sive. 
 
 Durant's cigar was out then ; he stood up,
 
 28o THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 and she with him. They loitered slowly to- 
 wards the hotel, and Miss Denham who had 
 waited for their going, kept them in sight until 
 they disappeared under the portico of the Crown. 
 Her escort was a small brother, and by him she 
 sent her card to the young lady going upstairs. 
 Winny Hesketh was still in view. Durant 
 had bidden her good-night, and turned off to 
 the billiard-room. She ran back to greet her 
 friend. It was too late to come in, Georgie 
 said, but she should be on the sands in the 
 morning from ten to twelve, at home all the 
 afternoon (her address was on the card), and at 
 the subscription ball the next night, if Winny 
 had the chance of giving her a meeting. Winny 
 promised that she would if she could, explain- 
 ing how and with whom she was at Rockbro', 
 and then they separated. 
 
 Winny adjourned straight to the room that 
 she was to share with Mildred. About ten 
 minutes later Mildred and young Mrs Hutton 
 came up in excellent spirits and agreement, and 
 after a little desultory chat the girls were left 
 to themselves. Mildred kissed Winny, and
 
 PLEASANT ENTERTAINMENT. 251 
 
 hoped that she had not been neglected ; but 
 her thoughts were evidently all with herself and 
 her beloved Frank. She had found her rest, 
 and Winny's vocation towards her was gone. 
 
 Fortune favoured the visitors to Rockbro' in 
 the next day's weather. It was a most splendid 
 morning, and when the girls went to breakfast 
 most of the arrangements for spending it agree- 
 ably were made. Mr Hutton and Mr Melhuish 
 were going to church, of course — that was what 
 they were at Rockbro' for — to hear the arch- 
 deacon's visitation charge ; but Mrs Hutton 
 and Mildred were devoted to a ride out to 
 Hurley-Bridge, and Mr Frank Jarvis was to 
 ride with them, taking Mr Hutton's horse. 
 
 ' And what is Miss Winifred to do ? ' inquired 
 Mrs Hutton. 
 
 ' Oh, don't let anybody be troubled for me ; 
 I can always provide amusement for myself,' 
 said Winny with her air of cheerful independ- 
 ence. 
 
 ' Indeed, ma'am ; so I have understood be- 
 fore. Will you be pleased to state what are
 
 282 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 your views for the present occasion ? ' said Mr 
 Hutton with mock solemnity, and Mr Durant 
 smiled with a glance her way — she amused 
 these gentlemen. 
 
 Winny did not care for being made a little fun 
 of : ' I am so used to taking care of other people 
 that I want nobody to take care of me/ was her 
 rejoinder. 
 
 * Precisely so. Who might other people 
 be?' 
 
 ' Children. Girls. But seriously ' — for she 
 had become aware of Durant's quizzical regard 
 — ' I want to go into the Old Town, and potter 
 about. I shall find my way to the harbour, and 
 then up amongst the fishermen's houses to St 
 Mary's Church on the north cliff, and perhaps 
 to the Castle. When I am tired of that, about 
 two o'clock, I shall come down into the town by 
 the nev/ road, and pay a visit to Miss Denham 
 in St Andrew's Place. Towards four I shall 
 be found here again, quite safe and sound, I 
 trust.' 
 
 * I trust so too. It is delightful to learn how 
 easily we can all be dispensed with, Durant,
 
 PLEASANT ENTERTAINMENT. 283 
 
 Isn't it ? You had better go to church with 
 Melhuish and me, Miss Winifred. You can 
 stay outside, and meditate amongst the tombs, 
 if you prefer that to prayers and sermon.' 
 
 ' Thank you, but I'd rather not. You know 
 what I mean. I cannot ride, more's the pity, 
 but if I keep nobody else from riding, I shall be 
 as happy as the day is long. I have borrowed 
 a guide-book, and I know what I am going to 
 do.' 
 
 Mr Hutton said no more, no one said any 
 more, but when Winny appeared, very neat 
 and unnotlceable in her brown bonnet and fawn 
 Carmelite dress, she found Mr Durant waiting 
 for her ; a fact which he intimated by producing 
 a pair of new gloves, and stating that he was at 
 her service. 
 
 ' O Mr Durant, you are not going to dance 
 attendance on me all day, surely ? ' she exclaimed 
 with deprecating impatience. ' It will be so 
 dull for you.' 
 
 ' I rather like dulness,' was his reply in a 
 sufficiently buoyant voice. 'And I promise 
 not to interfere with your enjoyment of it.'
 
 284 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 WInny professed to have forgotten some- 
 thing that she must have, and went back up- 
 stairs to present a remonstrance to Mildred 
 who was dressing for her ride. Mildred had 
 very much the absorbed air of not wishing to 
 be teased about anything so trivial, and said 
 with the utmost indifference : ' Durant has no- 
 thing else to do ; you need not be so considerate 
 for him, Winny. He is the most easy-tempered, 
 useful fellow in the world. He would not ride 
 to Hurley-Bridge even if he did not walk with 
 you — he does not admire the paces of Melhuish's 
 nag — he said so. And besides, my brother 
 would not let you go wandering over Rockbro* 
 all day by yourself. Is it likely ? Go in 
 peace.' 
 
 Winny hung about for some minutes hesitat- 
 ing and dissatisfied, but Mildred had no further 
 thought for her ; and finally she went away, and 
 rejoined Mr Durant. Her pulses were slightly 
 accelerated, her heart felt uneasy, her eyes, her 
 upper lip, her whole countenance were expres- 
 sive of proud, shy annoyance. The propriety 
 of the arrangement was not in her thoughts,
 
 PLEASANT ENTERTAINMENT. 285 
 
 her notions of propriety were of the broadest, 
 simplest character, but she was vexed at being 
 imposed as a charge on Mr Durant, who must 
 think it such a dreadful bore. In the course of 
 going up and downstairs she had changed her 
 plan of proceedings, and as they issued from 
 the portico of the Crown, she said with her firm, 
 little invincible manner : ' You shall take me to 
 the Castle and home again, if you will, Mr 
 Durant. Do you know the way ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, I know the way. We will go down to 
 the shore.' 
 
 Winny knew this was the beginning of her 
 own original programme — down to the shore 
 could not be the way to the Castle which 
 guarded the town and the bay from the topmost 
 headland of the north cHffs. However, she let 
 herself be guided, and they struck into the 
 terrace-gardens which clothed the steep inclines 
 of the descent with fragrant shade. A long 
 flight of steps brought them to the Spa, where 
 the fashionable folk crowded of an after- 
 noon to the promenade-concerts ; and another 
 flight carried them down to the rocks and the
 
 286 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 sands, all in a bustle at this time of day with 
 bathers, and children digging, and invalidish 
 people being drawn about in chairs, to inhale 
 the salt freshness of the inflowing tide. It was 
 a vigorous tide this morning, flowing before the 
 wind, and with a brilliant sun upon it. The 
 animation of the air swept Winny's distress fast 
 away. Durant seemed cheerful, and not bored 
 at all ; and being come to herself, she judiciously 
 reflected that since he was actually encum- 
 bered with her for some hours, it might be 
 her duty to lighten their tedium, and let them 
 be as pleasant as the circumstances allowed. 
 
 * This is very delightful,' he said, standing still, 
 and turning his face to the wind. ' Rockbro' is 
 the finest sea-side town in the kingdom ; I never 
 come to^it but the old charm revives. Look 
 at those boats with their sails set, in the shadow 
 of the Castle rocks, Miss Hesketh, and then 
 carry your eye round the magnificent sweep of 
 the bay. I cannot appreciate the meaning of 
 that scriptural assurance of a better state when 
 there shall be no more sea. I remember when 
 we came to Rockbro' every year, my brothers
 
 PLEASANT ENTERTAINMENT. 287 
 
 and I, to visit our mother's mother. There 
 were not such shoals of fine people in those 
 days, nor any of the fine houses that they lodge 
 in. Crown Terrace was a bare cliff, and all 
 beyond it was wild moor. The grange and 
 barren little fields at the edge of the heath 
 where we lived are gone, built over — and gone 
 too are those who lived there, except myself.' ^ 
 They were back at the old personal re- 
 miniscences. Winny could only hear Durant 
 with sympathy, and move on when he moved 
 on. By and by, at the descent from the town 
 to the sands, they met Miss Denham and her 
 sisters on their way to bathe. Georgie did not 
 seek to detain Winny, whose calm, complacent 
 air she observed — Winny said she meant to 
 visit her friend in the afternoon — but she took 
 a note of Durant, quiet and critical, and when 
 they had gone on she looked after them for a 
 minute, laughing inwardly at some recollection 
 she had of Winny's notions. Georgie could 
 always see when Winny was happy, and she 
 had a merry sense of discovery in what Winny's 
 sunshine face reflected this morning.
 
 288 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 Durant proved an excellent cicerone. He 
 was at home amongst the fisher-folk in the 
 harbour, and Winny being amused by their 
 quaint talk and stories, they spent more time 
 about there than they were aware of. Then 
 came the steep streets of the Old Town to 
 climb, so steep and so narrow some, that from 
 the windows of the upper-stories overhanging 
 those below, the inhabitants could shake hands 
 across. House doors stood open revealing 
 thrifty clean interiors, kitchen floors of red brick, 
 white hearth-stones, dressers splendid with 
 glowing stone-ware, walls illustrated with pic- 
 tures of ships and sea-fights, and rough views 
 of far-away, foreign places, brought home by 
 sailor sons. Bird-cages were numerous hanging 
 at window-sill and door-jamb, and so were bushy 
 green flowering plants, fuschias and scarlet 
 geraniums mostly. They emerged from the 
 populous, stony labyrinth by a flight of steps 
 and through a lych-gate into the churchyard of 
 St Mary's. By that way came the dead to be 
 buried — what generations of them ! It was a 
 crowded place ; there were assembled the
 
 PLEASANT ENTERTAINMENT. 289 
 
 Rockbro' majority. A low wall surrounded it, and 
 looking over, beyond the roofs and chimney- 
 pots, the bay stretched to the horizon, blue, 
 serene. At that instant the organ in the church 
 poured out a flood of music. 
 
 'It is at St Mary's that the archdeacon 
 holds his visitation — the service must be 
 over,' said Durant, and he consulted his 
 watch. 
 
 It w^as over. That music was the dismissal, 
 and the two idlers left the churchyard rather 
 precipitately, not to be entangled in the leaving 
 congregation. They turned up the road to the 
 Castle, and on the way Durant bought a regale 
 of buns and fruit for his companion, who ate it 
 with girlish satisfaction, resting on a green 
 mound within the ancient fortress. After 
 that they perambulated its ruins and pre- 
 cincts, and then took their way down into the 
 Now Tewn. 
 
 * It will be half-past three o'clock before I can 
 
 land you in St Andrew's Place, Miss Hesketh 
 
 — will an hour be enough for your visit to your 
 
 friend ? ' Durant inquired as they were going. 
 VOL. L • T
 
 290 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 ' Yes. But, pray, don't let me tie you any 
 longer,' said Winny In good earnest. ' The 
 road to the Crown cannot be very hard to find, 
 and perhaps Miss Denham will set me part of 
 the way.' 
 
 ' I am responsible to Hutton for your safe 
 production at the hotel before six, and I decline 
 to remit my duty to another.' 
 
 Winny Hesketh was not accustomed to con- 
 tradict men. When Mrs Broome wanted to put 
 a check on her tutorial zeal, she quoted Mr 
 Broome : Mr Broome said so-and-so — such was 
 Mr Broome's wish : and Winny was abjectly 
 submissive. Thus she was now to Durant who 
 spoke with a certain genial imperiousness. The 
 walk through the fine streets was very enter- 
 taining ; there were many objects to admire in 
 the shop-windows, and it was quite half-past 
 three when the door of Miss Denham's tem- 
 porary lodging was reached. As the servant 
 opened it Durant kindly, encouragingly, offered 
 to shake hands with his meek charge, and said 
 in a voice meant to put her at ease : ' I am 
 going to the Club — at five, sharp, I shall call
 
 PLEASANT ENTERTAINMENT. 29 I 
 
 for you. Now, remember;' and as WInny 
 thanked him with a pretty simplicity, he lifted 
 his hat, and marched swiftly off in the direc- 
 tion from which they had come. 
 
 Georgie received her friend with a mischievous 
 chuckle. ' I saw you coming. Let me look at 
 you,' cried she, and twisted Winny round to 
 the light. 
 
 Winny sustained her scrutiny without flinch- 
 ing. ' Well ? ' said she interrogatively, when 
 it was over. Georgie continued to peer and 
 to chuckle. * I don't know what you mean,' 
 Winny stated. * I am very well, thank you, and 
 I have been enjoying myself this morning.' 
 
 * No need to announce that. You have a 
 tell-tale face. You'll never be able to keep 
 your secrets, Winny.' 
 
 * I am warned — I'll have none. You have 
 a lively view from this window, Georgie. You 
 see the Bridge.' 
 
 Georgie perceived that Winny either did not 
 understand her raillery, or else did not like it, 
 and would not respond. She had both tact 
 and kindness, and she veered away from the
 
 292 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 personal question to general and literary gossip 
 such as they were more used to indulge. 
 They told what books they had read lately, 
 what progress Georgie was making in the 
 occult sciences, and to what lengths Winny was 
 proceeding with her pen. Georgie had no 
 great esteem for Winny's rhymes and prose 
 stories, but there must be give and take in 
 friendship ; and when Winny had listened with 
 attentive aspect to obscure and difficult psych- 
 ological speculations, it was no more than 
 fair that Georgie should lend half an ear to 
 her account of sketches from nature on the 
 outside — especially when Winny had it to boast 
 that one of these sketches had been up to 
 London, and had come back tied round with 
 pink tape, and accompanied by a letter from a 
 real publisher, very encouraging, as Georgie 
 did not deny. 
 
 This letter (Winny had received it, forwarded 
 from Gotham that morning) was pondered over 
 by the two girls with much seriousness. The 
 writer supposed himself to be addressing a very 
 young lady and of limited experience. He
 
 PLEASANT ENTERTAINMENT. 293 
 
 advised her to study life and grow older, preserv- 
 ing her simplicity and vigour of diction, and held 
 out a hope that she would succeed in later 
 efforts, though he qualified her present work as 
 crude, and wanting in knowledge of the world. 
 
 ' I daresay you have made some queer 
 blunder, Winny ; you should consult me when 
 3^ou want to appear a little learned in law, 
 physic, and divinity,' said Georgie with that 
 superior wisdom to which Winny bowed. 
 ' Have you afflicted your heroine with some 
 inscrutable malady ? there's a fever heroines 
 are apt to take, I don't quite know what fever 
 — and consumption comes in convenient often. 
 Perhaps if you knew a little more, you would 
 say a little less. When I write a tale my 
 heroine shall be a healthy young woman — or 
 else a raging lunatic. This gentleman gives 
 you good advice — you cannot do better than 
 follow it — and recollect, I'll help you when you 
 are in a difficulty. There are some amazing 
 streaks of ignorance in you, Winny, and 
 imagination does not clear up positive ignor- 
 ance. Nor will reading books do it. There
 
 294 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 are few things to be really learned except by 
 commerce with the world.' 
 
 Winny sighed, discouraged : * And my world 
 is a schoolroom/ said she. 
 
 The friends were sitting in the window with 
 the lively prospect, Winny's look-out being 
 towards the town and Georgie's towards the 
 sea and the Bridge. 
 
 They went on discoursing of literary 
 ventures until Georgie paused in the midst of 
 a paragraph of wise counsel to study a sudden, 
 beautiful light that had come into Winny's face. 
 Winny heard that her voice had ceased. ' Go 
 on — what were you saying ? ' she asked, but 
 without turning her eyes from the distance in 
 the street. 
 
 * Oh, nothing — Is Mr Durant coming ? It 
 must be close upon five,' said Georgie quietly. 
 
 ' Yes ' — and Winny began to tie her bonnet- 
 strings, and draw on her gloves. ' Here he is.' 
 
 Georgie leant forward to see him, and as she 
 drew back Winny met her eyes, dropt her own 
 and blushed. But Georgie was become all at 
 once blind and blank, and ran on with some
 
 PLEASANT ENTERTAINMENT. 295 
 
 new remarks : ' I have a few flowers for j^ou, 
 Winny — they sent us a box from home this 
 morning — flowers for the ball. I wish you 
 were to be there — you have never been to a 
 ball. How you would enjoy it ! ' 
 
 * We brought dresses, Mildred and I, on the 
 chance, but I have not heard a word about 
 going. Everybody will be tired. There's the 
 bell.' 
 
 * Yes. There's the bell/ Georgie attended 
 her friend down stairs to the door, carrying her 
 o;ift of flowers. 
 
 * Ready ? ' said Durant as Winny appeared ; 
 and his brown face and bright eyes shone with 
 manly indulgence. It is probable that he had 
 divined by some means the sort of shy, un- 
 confessed pleasure Miss Hesketh felt in his 
 company. 
 
 Winny only answered, *Yes,' but she went 
 out forgetting to bid Georgie good-bye. 
 
 ' Stop, Winny, you are leaving your flowers 
 — won't you have them ? ' cried her friend. 
 
 * Oh yes, thank you, thank you,' and Winny 
 turned, deeply ashamed, to receive her nosegay.
 
 296 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 Georgie went upstairs three steps at a time to 
 the window with the lively prospect ; and there 
 she stood, softly whistling, and very meditative, 
 indeed, watching the figures of Mr Durant and 
 Winny Hesketh threading their way through 
 the crowd on the Bridge until they were no 
 longer in sight. Then she walked up and 
 down the room with her hands behind her, and 
 lost in thought — finally she halted at the 
 window again, and said aloud : ' Winny is in 
 for it — Poor little thing ! I wonder how it will 
 end.' And Georgie did not feel quite so sure 
 that she was amused as she had done a couple 
 of hours ago. For Georgie had very consider- 
 able insight, and she rather distrusted the 
 maxims on which Winny had been brought up, 
 concerning the other sex. She was afraid they 
 would not wear.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 AT A ROCKBRO' BALL. 
 
 Mr Duraxt and Winny Heskethwere accused 
 of being late in returning to the hotel, but it 
 was only a few minutes past six. Mrs Hutton 
 and Mildred were busy upstairs. 
 
 ' Here you are at last, Winny ! I suppose 
 you could not tear yourself away from Miss 
 Denham,' cried Mildred, who always had a little 
 jealousy of that rival friendship. ' We are to 
 go to the ball. I have shaken out your dress 
 for you. Now, are you happy ? ' 
 
 Winny's countenance answered for her that 
 she was very happy. * All of us ? ' said she. 
 
 ' Yes ; unless Durant prefer to keep Melhuish 
 company — Melhuish will not go. My brother 
 enjoys a dance as well as ever he did, and you, 
 too, Fanny.' 
 
 * It was not much dancing I had before I
 
 298 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 was married, Milly,' said her sister. * But we 
 must press Durant into our service, or what 
 shall we do for partners ? The subscription- 
 balls at Rockbro' are capable of being immense 
 disappointments to girls who don't carry 
 partners with them. If Mr Durant does not 
 go, we shall be three to two in our party — 
 counting your precious Frank one of us.' 
 
 At dinner Mr Durant thought he would 
 rather not go to the ball — a cigar on the moor 
 with Melhuish would be more in his way. 
 Upon which Mr Hutton said : ' Then I am 
 afraid you will not get much dancing, Miss 
 Winifred — however, I'll do my utmost — I'll 
 dance with my wife and you turn and turn 
 about, if nobody better offers.* 
 
 Durant made no sign of rescinding his 
 resolution, and Winny, having thanked Mr 
 Hutton for his kind overtures, became intent 
 upon her plate. Perhaps the prospect of the 
 ball was a little less enchanting. Some one 
 remarked that the Assembly Rooms were not 
 far from the Crown, that it was a splendid light 
 evening, and the gentlemen might walk there
 
 299 
 
 — which they did ; and Mrs Hutton and the 
 girls had a carriage to themselves. On the 
 road they reflected that they might have 
 walked too — all the Jarvis family were walking, 
 even the French gran'ma ; it would have been 
 pleasant, and would have spared them the 
 tedious waiting en q2ieice, which Mildred's 
 impatience finally abridged when Frank had 
 stood ten minutes at their carriage-door. 
 
 These Rockbro' subscription-balls took place 
 once a fortnight, from the beginning of the 
 season in May to the end of it in October. 
 They were well supported, for the rooms were 
 spacious and airy, and the floor was excellent 
 for dancing. A galop was in progress when 
 the Hutton party arrived, and as the couples 
 whirled about, Winny Hesketh recognised 
 presently her old school-fellow. Miss Cradock, 
 labouring toilsomely in the clutch of a heavy 
 dragoon ; and a minute or two after. Miss 
 Denham improving the occasion with a small 
 brother. Georgie had much learning and 
 philosophy, but she was passionately fond of 
 dancing.
 
 300 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 Mr Hutton was engaged first to his wife, of 
 course, and Mildred had a constant partner 
 secured in her precious Frank. Winny sub- 
 sided quietly on a red bench under the wing 
 of the French gran' ma, who professed a 
 partiality for the unobtrusive girl. She cast 
 her keen fastidious eyes over Winny's pretty 
 figure, and then said with the approving nod 
 of patronage : * I admire a simple toilette ; 
 your toilette is charming. Miss Winifred.' It 
 was nothing but a muslin trimmed with her 
 mother's lace, and Winny thought, ungratefully, 
 that gran' ma complimented her for malice, 
 because, just at that moment, Mildred, on 
 Frank's arm, passed them to take her place 
 in the quadrille, and Mildred's toilette was 
 elegantly elaborate — crape embroidered in 
 silver, and a coronet of silver leaves. 
 
 For the first half hour Winny's enjoyment 
 of the ball was moderate. She had no partner 
 yet. The Lancers struck up, and she feared 
 she was going to sit out again, when Mr Jarvis 
 the elder said : * Shall I take compassion on 
 you. Miss Winifred ?*
 
 AT A ROCKBRO BALL. 3OI 
 
 *Yes, my dear, go — there is not a finer 
 dancer in the room than my son,' urged the 
 granma. Winny went with such visible, 
 grateful joy that she conferred on her partner 
 the salutary sensation of doing a good action. 
 
 ' There is my father dancing with Miss 
 Winifred — I don't know which is the gayer,' 
 Frank told his lady-love. 
 
 Mildred glanced through the maze, and 
 laughed. ' Winny is quite undeveloped in the 
 way of pleasure, but she takes to it kindly. I 
 have always suspected in her a great capacity 
 in spite of her ascetic theories.' 
 
 Miss Denham was making similar reflections 
 while she gazed hither and thither in search of 
 Mr Durant. She did not discover him, but he 
 had, in fact, repented himself, and just come in. 
 During the dance Miss Cradock also espied 
 Miss Winifred, and gave her a series of signals 
 in the distance , and when Winny was restored 
 to her seat on the red bench, she found her 
 out, and claimed acquaintance with boisterous 
 familiarity. 
 
 ' You are the last person I should have ex-
 
 302 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 pected to see in a Rockbro' ball-room, Miss 
 Winifred ! you ought to despise and contemn 
 our frivolous amusements. How will you settle 
 again in your dull schoolroom after such frantic 
 dissipation ? ' 
 
 Winny was affronted by this rude raillery — 
 certainly the possession of money gives some 
 people extraordinary confidence. She vouch- 
 safed no reply but what could be conveyed by 
 silence. Georgie arrived — not to her succour. 
 Georgie rallied her too on the vanishing of her 
 grave airs. ' If you were my governess, I 
 should discard you on the spot/ said she. 
 
 Winny blushed ; she was hurt, surprised. 
 She cast an appealing, deprecating look at her 
 friend,- and said : ' It would, perhaps, have been 
 wiser to keep away. It is my first, and most 
 likely it will be my last, taste of such frantic 
 dissipation.' 
 
 The dragoon dashed in to bear off Miss 
 Cradock for a waltz — she was his prize, the cap- 
 tive of his sword and spurs — she and her great 
 fortune. Georgie made a sign of summons to her 
 useful little brother, and Winny was once more
 
 AT A ROCKBRO' BALL. 303 
 
 left in peace with the French gran'ma. The 
 music of that waltz was ma2:ical. All at once 
 she became aware of Durant approaching. 
 Her blush had not faded, nor had the plaintive 
 expression gone out of her eyes when, to his 
 inquiry whether she would like to join in this 
 waltz, she answered that she thought she would 
 rather not. 
 
 ' Oh, I am sure you would — come,' said Durant 
 persuasively, and taking her hand as she rose, 
 he drew it through his arm, patted it to re-assure 
 her, for it was plain to see that she had been 
 somehow disconcerted, and steered leisurely off to 
 the top of the room. Mildred observed that she 
 was glad Durant had changed his mind, and come 
 — Winny would get her share of dancing now. 
 
 She did get it. Miss Denham counted that 
 she danced every dance to the end, and only 
 twice with anybody but Mr Durant. It caused 
 her to reflect — but then she knew the exigencies 
 of the Rockbro' balls, and the general and per- 
 mitted preference of visitors for the partners 
 they brought with them. In such a society 
 undesirable acquaintances were to be avoided,
 
 304 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 and suspected. Georgie herself had no partner 
 that evening except her brother, and him it was 
 her duty to share with a younger sister. 
 
 There was one lady present who made a 
 sensation, and had a large surrounding. She 
 arrived late, and the French gran'ma called her 
 by some foreign title, but Winny Hesketh knew 
 her at a glance for Miss Nina Mostyn, the beauty 
 of her day at the old Manor School. She was 
 remarkably attired in a vaporous, flame-coloured 
 dress with trimmings of black and scarlet, and 
 twinkled with diamonds wherever a jewel could 
 be set. Her husband and escort was a very big, 
 stout, dark gentleman, many years older than her- 
 self, the Count Saldanha. She had no sooner en- 
 tered the room than the finest company hovered 
 to meet her, eager for a bow, a word, or any item 
 of notice that she might condescend to grant 
 them. She was the fashion at Rockbro' that 
 season, the most beautiful, most conspicuous 
 lady there. It was an envied distinction to 
 know her, and she queened it with an imperious 
 coquetry amidst her court of admirers. 
 
 Miss Denham had taken measures to renew
 
 AT A ROCKBRO' BALL. 305 
 
 her intimacy with her early favourite, who, thus 
 transfigured, had for her inquisitive mind the 
 fascination of a curious study. Georgie told 
 Winny Hesketh, as they sat for a few minutes 
 watching their former companion, that she was 
 leading a life of the wildest excitement and ex- 
 travagance, which it was not possible, with her 
 frame, she could hold out long. Winny con- 
 templated her as a being of another sphere from 
 that in which her own lot was cast, and asked 
 no question except whether her husband was a 
 Jew. Georgie did not know what he was, ex- 
 cept that his wealth appeared unbounded ; and 
 unless for that, it was a wonder to the world 
 why this exquisite woman had married him. 
 
 * She must have been mad, people say — per- 
 haps there is more truth in that than they mean. 
 She looks like a creature possessed at this 
 moment. She plays with mesmerism and spirit- 
 rapping — you cannot imagine how she interests 
 me, Winny. I wish she would speak to me 
 that you might see her nearer — see her marvel- 
 lous eyes.' 
 
 ' She looks awfully proud/ said Winny. 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 306 THIS WORK-A-DAY WORLD. 
 
 ' She is awfully proud. — And to what weird 
 fate her pride, fulness of bread and abundance 
 
 of idleness may bring her ' Georgie stopt 
 
 short, arrested by a hard stare from the French 
 gran'ma. * You'll have none of those tempta- 
 tions, Winny, nor those excuses,' she whispered 
 with a sort of defiant confusion, returning the 
 fixed gaze of the old lady's black eyes. 
 
 Winny looked up at her friend, not quite 
 understanding, and said : * No,' and at that in- 
 stant Durant claimed her for another dance. 
 
 When that dance was over the room began 
 to thin rapidly. There were already gleams of 
 morning in the east. But Mildred would have 
 one dance more, and after that one more still, 
 until the band gave tokens of breaking up, and 
 it was daylight in the streets. The Hutton 
 party walked back to the Crown. It was four 
 o'clock when they were admitted — the last of 
 the ball-going guests to return. They had 
 coffee, and then the girls went to their room, 
 but agreed that it was useless to go to bed. 
 They sat by their open window and talked, 
 watching the sunrise upon the water.
 
 AT A ROCKBRO BALL. 307 
 
 ' Oh, it is happy to think that Frank and I 
 can be parted no more !' cried Mildred softly. 
 It was the first voluntary, confidential refer- 
 ence she had made yet to the clearing of her 
 prospects. 
 
 Winny said : * It was a beautiful ball, Mildred 
 — we shall never have such another.' 
 
 'Never!' Mildred echoed. 'Next year at 
 this time Frank and I will be sober married 
 people. I wish you would find some one to 
 love, Winny, and follow our example.' 
 
 Winny gave herself a comfortable stretch in 
 her easy-chair, and said : * It appears to be an 
 absorbing and enviable state of being,' and then 
 she laughed at some merry idea in her own 
 mind. 
 
 ' You little mocker, I will not talk to you ! ' 
 cried Mildred indignantly. But she did never- 
 theless. 
 
 Mr Hutton had given the girls notice that 
 they must be ready to start on their homeward 
 journey at ten o'clock, and after a rest, they 
 packed up their finery, and as soon as the house
 
 o 
 
 08 THIS WORK- A- DAY WORLD. 
 
 was astir, went out, and away to the shore for 
 a refreshing dip in the sea. At breakfast Mr 
 Jarvis the elder who had seen them go and 
 come, remarked that Miss Winifred's eyes 
 were brighter than ever, and that it was good 
 to be young. But Mildred betrayed a languor, 
 and the French gran'ma had the visage of a 
 hundred years. 
 
 Mr Durant did not present himself until the 
 hour of starting. He could sleep, timely or un- 
 timely, and had enjoyed his five hours' lawful 
 rest, so that the day before him was as welcome 
 and no more tedious than other days. He 
 drove Miss Hesketh back to Foston in the 
 phaeton as they had come, and landed her at 
 the house sans misadventure, having narrated 
 to her on' the road home those wold-country 
 stories that had been left untold for other con- 
 versation on the road out to Rockbro'. 
 
 END OF VOL. L
 
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