"Trade!" said she. "I'd be bound to learn it in two hours."

"Oh no, you wouldn't, Mrs. Marty." Winterborne held down his lantern,

and examined the cleanly split hazels as they lay. "Marty," he said,

with dry admiration, "your father with his forty years of practice

never made a spar better than that. They are too good for the

thatching of houses--they are good enough for the furniture. But I

won't tell. Let me look at your hands--your poor hands!"

He had a kindly manner of a quietly severe tone; and when she seemed

reluctant to show her hands, he took hold of one and examined it as if

it were his own. Her fingers were blistered.

Advertisement..

"They'll get harder in time," she said. "For if father continues ill,

I shall have to go on wi' it. Now I'll help put 'em up in wagon."

Winterborne without speaking set down his lantern, lifted her as she

was about to stoop over the bundles, placed her behind him, and began

throwing up the bundles himself. "Rather than you should do it I

will," he said. "But the men will be here directly. Why,

Marty!--whatever has happened to your head? Lord, it has shrunk to

nothing--it looks an apple upon a gate-post!"

Her heart swelled, and she could not speak. At length she managed to

groan, looking on the ground, "I've made myself ugly--and

hateful--that's what I've done!"

"No, no," he answered. "You've only cut your hair--I see now.

"Then why must you needs say that about apples and gate-posts?"

"Let me see."

"No, no!" She ran off into the gloom of the sluggish dawn. He did not

attempt to follow her. When she reached her father's door she stood on

the step and looked back. Mr. Melbury's men had arrived, and were

loading up the spars, and their lanterns appeared from the distance at

which she stood to have wan circles round them, like eyes weary with

watching. She observed them for a few seconds as they set about

harnessing the horses, and then went indoors.




Most Popular