Sophy was delighted to pour out the history of her discovery, and tell how it appeared on the screen that sheltered poor Judith Grey.
'Exactly as I supposed,' said Captain Carbonel. 'I always believed that fellow was a thief.'
'But it is not poor Judith's fault,' exclaimed the sisters, with one voice.
'She knew nothing about it. She wanted to pay the shilling for it,' said Sophia.
The captain laughed a little.
'And she is going to search for a bit to go up there!' continued the girl more vehemently; and he laughed again.
'Yes,' said Mary, 'if you only saw something of her, you would be convinced that her whole character is very different from that of the rest of the family.'
'Don't you be taken in by plausibility,' said the captain. 'I know that fellow Dan is a thief. I meant to tell his relation, George, that I won't allow him to be employed on the new schoolroom. I shall do so now.'
'Would it not be better to forget what happened so long ago?' Mary ventured to say.
'And suppose Judith restores it,' added Sophia.
'Pshaw!' said the captain; but Mary followed him to the study, and what she did with him there her sisters did not know, but it resulted in his allowing that Dan might have another trial, with a sharp eye over him.
So unused was Uphill to the visits of ladies, that when the piece of French paper was sold to Judith, no one had thought of her being sought out in her bedroom. Molly came home with the children in the evening, tired out but excited-for all had had rather more beer than was good for them, and the children a great many more sweets. Jem and Judy were quarrelling over a wooden horse covered with white spots, but whose mane had already disappeared, Lizzie was sick, cross, and stupid, Polly had broken the string of her new yellow necklace, and was crying about it, and nobody had recollected the aunt except Johnnie, who presented her with a piece of thin gingerbread representing King George the Fourth, in white, pink, and gilt! Molly herself was very tired, though she said it was all very fine, and she had seen a lot of people, and the big sleeves they wore were quite a wonder. Then she scolded Polly with all her might for crying and never setting the tea, nor boiling the kettle; and, after all, it was Johnnie who made up the fire, fetched water, and set the kettle boiling. They all wrangled together over their purchases, and the sights they had seen, or not seen, while Judith was glad to be out of the way of seeing, though not of hearing. Then the girls trailed themselves upstairs. Judy slept with her aunt, Polly and Lizzie had a kind of shake-down on a mattress of chaff or hulls, as she called it, by her side. Judith always insisted on their prayers, but they said they were much too tired to-night, and could not say anything but 'Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,' which was all they knew except the Lord's Prayer. Judith had taught them this, but they thought the repeating it a very difficult ceremony, far too hard when they were tired.
Their mother went to bed soon afterwards, taking Jem with her, and so did Johnnie, all being anxious to get what sleep they could before the dreaded moment of father's return. Public-houses were not obliged to close at any special time in those days, and the home-coming, especially on a fair day, was apt to be a terrible affair. It was not till past one o'clock that shouts, broken bursts of singing, and howls of quarrelling announced the break-up of the riotous party, and presently the door bounced open, and with oaths at the darkness, though there was bright moonlight, Dan stumbled in and staggered upstairs, overturning the unlucky screen upon Polly as he did so, cursing and swearing at them all, and ordering his wife to get up and open the door, which he was past finding. He did not attack Judith, though he almost fell over her bed, and the two girls lay trembling, not daring to lift off the screen till the door of the bedroom was shut on them; and then came the only too well-known sound of their mother scolding and crying, and his swearing and beating her.
They were only too much used to such disturbance, and were asleep again before it was over; but Judith could only lie on, shaking with terror- not personal-but at the awful words she heard, and praying that they might not be visited on that unhappy household, but that God would forgive.
It was not till the next day when the house was tolerably quiet, and Molly, rather fretful and grumbling, had helped Judith down to her place by the fire, that she ventured the question, 'Molly, you have not a bit more of that pretty wall-paper you gave me for my screen?'
'Did it get broke last night in Dan's drunken tantrums?'
'Not more than I can mend, but little Miss Sophia, she says that the paper in the Greenhow drawing-room is quite spoilt for want of a piece to cover up a bit that was put on wrong.'
'My patience! And how did Miss Sophia come to know anything about it?'
'She came up to see me, and bring those cutlets that you are warming up now.'
'Bless me! Well, Dan will be vexed,' said Molly. 'Such mean folk as they are, a-peeping and a-prying after everything! They knows how to look after whatever they chooses to say is their own; and the captain, he made a row before about that there trumpery yard or two of paper that was the parkisit of them that hung it.'
'Miss Sophy says it spoilt the room.'
'Sp'ilt it! They've little to vex 'em that is terrified about that!'
'But have you got the bit, Molly?'
'I never had it! Dan kept it in the outhouse. He may have a scrap left, that he used to make caps for the Christmas boys when he used the rest to paper Mrs Hunter's closet with down at Downhill. Your piece was left over of that, and may be there was half-a-yard more; but he locks that there workshop of his, so as one can't get in to get a bit of shavings to light the fire. So you must ask him. I am sure I dare not do it. He's
'I must try and get it!' said Judith.
'Not now, I wouldn't,' entreated Molly. 'What is it to the ladies? And father, he will be fit to tear the place down if he hears of it! Them Gobblealls is set again him already, and 'tis just taking away our bread to say a bit more about it to them folks. George Hewlett is particular enough already, without having a work about this.'
Poor Judith, she felt as if she could never be at peace with her conscience, while she had those yellow laburnums in sight in her room, and she did not see how restitution and confession could injure her brother-in-law; but her code of right and wrong was very different from that of either husband or wife.
Molly went on maundering about the hardship of having taken in a poor helpless thing, and having stood between her and the workhouse, only that she should turn a viper and a spy, and take her poor children's bread out of their mouths, forgetting that Jem was at the very moment eating up the piece of apple-pie that had come with the cutlets.
Judith tried to get her thoughts together, and decided that, however much she might dread Dan's anger, and care for his interest and family peace, it was her duty to do her best to recover whatever remnant was possible of his booty. So when he came home to dinner she ventured to ask him if he had a piece left of that paper of her screen.
'Why?' he asked, turning on her, as if he hoped to make more of whatever he had.
She told him timidly, and it was as she had feared. He began abusing her violently for letting spies up into her room, and turning against him, that let her have her house-room, and 'worriting' them all with her hypocritical ways. He could tell her there was nothing between her and the workhouse, and all was interspersed with oaths, terrible to hear.
Molly began taking her part, and declaring that Judith could not help it if little miss would come into her room; but Dan, who had qualified last night's revel with another mug of ale, was quite past all reason, and declared that Judith called the girl up on purpose to bring him into trouble, and that nothing but harm had ever come of her canting, Methody ways, and he had a good mind to kick her out at once to the workhouse, and would do so, if she brought them Gobblealls down on him again. There had been nothing but plague ever since they came into the parish, and he wouldn't have them come poll-prying about his house. No, he wouldn't.
Judith knew this was a vain threat, for he was always out of the house when they came, and she also knew that he was the last man to give up the small payment that she was in the habit of making quarterly, or what was begged from her besides, so she was not afraid of any such measure; but she was much shaken, and felt quite ill afterwards, and Molly did not stint her blame and lamentations. Nothing happened in consequence, except that, from that time forward, Dan's incipient dislike to 'they Gobblealls' was increased, and they could do nothing which he did not find fault with; though his wife, grumbling at them all the time, was quite willing to get everything possible out of them.
CHAPTER TEN. INNOVATIONS.
