“You’ve no call to go raking up yon d—d rubbish!” Mr. Addison burst out, crimson to the hair, and quite forgetting the obligations of his Christian mission. He had said the same thing to Eliza’s eldest lass, and much about the same time, and knew that Eliza knew it as well as he. “Folks isn’t right in their heads when they’re courtin’, as everybody knows, and it’s real mean to bring it agen ’em after all these years. As for Geordie Thornthet, there was lile or nowt I could learn him, and that’s sure! T’lasses was always after him like bees at a bottle o’ rum.”
“Nay, now, you mean our Jim!” Jim’s mother corrected him with an air of offence. “Nobody never reckoned nowt o’ Geordie but May Fleming. He couldn’t hold a candle to Jim, any day o’ the week. Folk said they couldn’t tell ’em apart, but I never see a scrap o’ likeness myself.” She glanced defiantly round the table, as if expecting opposition, and then swung round eagerly as Sally reappeared. “Well, my lass, well?” she rapped out—“did she tell you anything more? You’ve taken your time about coming back, I’m sure!”
“Nay, she said nowt fresh,” Sally answered evasively, without meeting her eyes. She advanced to the table and began to gather the china together, ready for clearing away. Her mother pushed back her chair with an angry scrape.
“Well, of all the gert, helpless gabies!” she exploded violently. “I made sure she’d talk when she’d gitten you by herself. Didn’t she say when letter come, or how much brass there was, or owt? … Eh, well, it’s never Geordie as made it, that I’ll swear!”
“She said it was Geordie.” Sally went on mechanically with her task, collecting cups and plates from under the noses of the still-stupefied clan. “It’s real nice, anyway, to see somebody happy,” she added suddenly, raising her eyes to look at the smug cousin. Elliman met them unexpectedly and coloured furiously. On a sudden remorseful impulse he shuffled a couple of plates together, and handed them to her with a deprecating air.
“I can’t say she looked very set up about it, anyhow!” Eliza sneered. “What, she was even more glumpy than usual, seemed to me!”
“More like a burying than a homecoming, by a deal!” Mary Phyllis finished for her, with a scornful laugh.
“As for Uncle Simon, he was as cross as a pair of shears!” Emily Marion added in a fretted tone. The Thornthwaites were making things awkward today for the bride-to-be. Simon had nearly queered the engagement at the start, and now the company’s interest was all for a Thornthwaite whom she had never seen.
“Not how I should take good news, certainly!” Elliman said, hoping that no one had noticed his menial act. “I should have something more to say for myself, I hope, than that.”
Eliza’s eyes brightened considerably at this unanimous point of view.
“Nay, you’re right there,” she took them up eagerly, “you’re right enough! ’Tisn’t natural to be so quiet. I’ll tell you what it is,” she added impressively, “it’s one o’ two things, that’s all. It’s either a lie from beginning to end, or else—or else—well, it’s our Jim!” She pushed her chair further still, and got hurriedly to her feet. “Ay, well, whichever it is, I’d best see for myself,” she added quickly. “You’ll not mind me leaving you, Mrs. Addison, just for a little while? I don’t know as we’re doing right to leave Sarah so long alone. She’s getting a bit of an old body now, you know, and she was never that strong in her poor head.”
She departed noisily after this surprisingly sympathetic speech, and Sarah, hearing her heavy step along the passage, chuckled for the last time. Her mind braced itself for the coming contest with a grim excitement that was almost joy. Nothing could have been more unlike her attitude of the morning in the innyard. She lay back in her chair again and closed her eyes, and was rocking peacefully when Eliza opened the door.
Just for the moment the sight of the tranquil figure gave her pause, but neither sleep nor its greater Counterpart could still Eliza for very long. “Feeling more like yourself, are you, Sarah?” she enquired cautiously, peering in, and then repeated the question when she got no answer. Finally, irritated by the other’s immobility which was obviously not sleep, she entered the room heavily, shutting the door with a sharp click. “There’s nowt amiss, from the look of you,” she added loudly, as she advanced.
Sarah exclaimed, “Eh now, whatever’s yon!” at the sound of the harsh voice, and sat up stiffly, winking her blind eyes. She even turned her head and blinked behind, as if she thought the voice had come out of the grandfather’s clock. “Nay, I’ll do now, thank ye,” she answered politely, discovering Eliza’s whereabouts with a show of surprise. “It’ll be about time we were thinking of getting off.”
Eliza, however, had no intention of parting with her just yet. She stopped her hastily when she tried to rise.
“Nay, now, there isn’t that much hurry, is there?” she demanded sharply. “Yon old horse o’ yourn’ll barely have stretched his legs. Your master and mine’d have a deal to say to each other an’ all.” She paused a moment, creaking from foot to foot, and staring irresolutely at the mask-like face. “You talked a deal o’ stuff in t’other room, Sarah,” she broke out at last, “but I reckon you meant nowt by it, after all?”
Sarah wanted to chuckle again, but was forced to deny herself the pleasure. For appearance’ sake she stiffened her back, and bristled a little at Eliza’s tone.
“Ay, but I did!” she retorted briskly, her voice firm. “Whatever
