'But what has happened?' asked Lily.
'Oh! that chatterer, that worst of gossipers, has gone and told the Naylors and Mrs. Gage all we said about them the other day.'
'So you told Mrs. Appleton?' said Lily; 'so that was the reason you were so obliging about the marking thread. Oh, Jane, you had better say no more about Mrs. Appleton! And has it done much mischief?'
'Oh! Mrs. Gage 'pitched' into Robert, as Wat Greenwood would say, and the christening is off again.'
'Jane, this is frightful,' said Lily; 'I do not wonder that you are unhappy.'
'Well, I daresay it will all come right again,' said Jane; 'there will only be a little delay, papa and Robert will bring them to their senses in time.'
'Suppose the baby was to die,' said Lily.
'Oh, it will not die,' said Jane, 'a great fat healthy thing like that likely to die indeed!'
'I cannot make you out, Jane,' said Lily. 'If I had done such a thing, I do not think I could have a happy minute till it was set right.'
'Well, I told you I was very sorry,' said Jane, 'only I wish they would not all be so hard upon me. Robert owns that he should not have said such things if he did not wish them to be repeated.'
'Does he?' cried Lily. 'How exactly like Robert that is, to own himself in fault when he is obliged to blame others. Jane, how could you hear him say such things and not be overcome with shame? And then to turn it against him! Oh, Jane, I do not think I can talk to you any more.'
'I do not mean to say it was not very good of him,' said Jane.
'Good of him-what a word!' cried Lily. 'Well, good-night, I cannot bear to talk to you now. Shall I say anything for you downstairs?'
'Oh, tell papa and Robert I am very sorry,' said Jane. 'I shall not come down again, you may leave the lamp.'
On her way downstairs in the dark Lilias was led, by the example of her cousin, to reflect that she was not without some share in the mischief that had been done; the words which report imputed to Mr. Devereux were mostly her own or Jane's. There was no want of candour in Lily, and as soon as she entered the drawing-room she went straight up to her father and cousin, and began, 'Poor Jenny is very unhappy; she desired me to tell you how sorry she is. But I really believe that I did the mischief, Robert. It was I who said those foolish things that were repeated as if you had said them. It is a grievous affair, but who could have thought that we were doing so much harm?'
'Perhaps it may not do any,' said Emily. 'The Naylors have a great deal of good about them.'
'They must have more than I suppose, if they can endure what Robert is reported to have said of them,' said Mr. Mohun.
'What did you say, Robert,' said Lily, 'did you not tell them all was said by your foolish young cousins?'
'I agreed with you too much to venture on contradicting the report; you know I could not even deny having called Mrs. Gage by that name.'
'Oh, if I could do anything to mend it!' cried Lily.
But wishes had no effect. Lilias and Jane had to mourn over the full extent of harm done by hasty words. After the more respectable men had left the Mohun Arms on the evening of Whit-Monday, the rest gave way to unrestrained drunkenness, not so much out of reckless self-indulgence, as to defy the clergyman and the squire. They came to the front of the parsonage, yelled and groaned for some time, and ended by breaking down the gate.
This conduct was repeated on Tuesday, and on many Saturdays following; some young trees in the churchyard were cut, and abuse of the parson written on the walls the idle young men taking this opportunity to revenge their own quarrels, caused by Mr. Devereux's former efforts for their reformation.
On Sunday several children were absent from school; all those belonging to Farmer Gage's labourers were taken away, and one man was turned off by the farmers for refusing to remove his child.
Now that the war was carried on so openly, Mr. Mohun considered it his duty to withdraw his custom from one who chose to set his pastor at defiance. He went to the forge, and had a long conversation with the blacksmith, but though he was listened to with respect, it was not easy to make much impression on an ignorant, hot-tempered man, who had been greatly offended, and prided himself on showing that he would support the quarrel of his wife and her relations against both squire and parson; and though Mr. Mohun did persuade him to own that it was wrong to be at war with the clergyman, the effect of his arguments was soon done away with by the Gages, and no ground was gained.
Mr. Gage's farm was unhappily at no great distance from a dissenting chapel and school, in the adjoining parish of Stoney Bridge, and thither the farmer and blacksmith betook themselves, with many of the cottagers of Broom Hill.
One alone of the family of Tom Naylor refused to join him in his dissent, and that was his sister, Mrs. Eden, a widow, with one little girl about seven years old, who, though in great measure dependent upon him for subsistence, knew her duty too well to desert the church, or to take her child from school, and continued her even course, toiling hard for bread, and uncomplaining, though often munch distressed. All the rest of the parish who were not immediately under Mr. Mohun's influence were in a sad state of confusion.
Jane was grieved at heart, but would not confess it, and Lilias was so restless and unhappy, that Emily was quite weary of her lamentations. Her best comforter was Miss Weston, who patiently listened to her, sighed with her over the evident sorrow of the Rector, and the mischief in the parish, and proved herself a true friend, by never attempting to extenuate her fault.
CHAPTER VI-THE NEW FRIEND
'Maidens should be mild and meek,
Swift to hear, and slow to speak.'
Miss Weston had been much interested by what she heard respecting Mrs. Eden, and gladly discovered that she was just the person who could assist in some needlework which was required at Broom Hill. She asked Lilias to tell her where to find her cottage, and Lily replied by an offer to show her the way; Miss Weston hesitated, thinking that perhaps in the present state of things Lily had rather not see her; but her doubts were quickly removed by this speech, 'I want to see her particularly. I have been there three times without finding her. I think I can set this terrible matter right by speaking to her.'
Accordingly, Lilias and Phyllis set out with Alethea and Marianne one afternoon to Mrs. Eden's cottage, which stood at the edge of a long field at the top of the hill. Very fast did Lily talk all the way, but she grew more silent as she came to the cottage, and knocked at the door; it was opened by Mrs. Eden herself, a pale, but rather pretty young woman, with a remarkable gentle and pleasing face, and a manner which was almost ladylike, although her hands were freshly taken out of the wash-tub. She curtsied low, and coloured at the sight of Lilias, set chairs for the visitors, and then returned to her work.
'Oh! Mrs. Eden,' Lily began, intending to make her explanation, but feeling confused, thought it better to wait till her friend's business was settled, and altered her speech into 'Miss Weston is come to speak to you about some work.'
Mrs. Eden looked quite relieved, and Alethea proceeded to appoint the day for her coming to Broom Hill, and arrange some small matters, during which Lily not only settled what to say, but worked herself into a fit of impatience at the length of Alethea's instructions. When they were concluded, however, and there was a pause, her words failed her, and she wished that she was miles from the cottage, or that she had never mentioned her intentions. At last she stammered out, 'Oh! Mrs. Eden-I wanted to speak to you about-about Mr. Devereux and your brother.'
