Up Hill and Down Dale. A tale of country life

Chapter I Mrs Dawes At The Mill

In spite of the delay caused by Harvey's slow movements, Lettice and Armell were safely married that morning ; no other mishap occurring, though the miller, in his nervous blundering, persisted in making the bridegroom's answers for him, and even tried to put the ring on his daughter's finger. But Armell held steadily on his way, Mrs Dawes plucked Daniel by the sleeve on one side, and Mr Cox grasped his other arm, so that the possibility of any serious mistake was well guarded against. Mr Cox's presence, especially in an official character, needs explanation. He had almost decided to VOL. II A decline the miller's invitation; the role of a rejected lover suited him well, and it would be more consis tent with this to stay away from Lettice Bourne's wedding. But before he could compose to his satisfaction, an epistle which should express his state of mind — heart broken, yet magnanimous — something happened to alter his determination.

This arose indirectly from Mrs Dawes, who had been anythingbut a happy woman during the interval between Christinas and Easter. Apart from her disappointment in her daughter, she had chafed under the knowledge that all the neighbourhood looked upon her as the victim of misplaced ambition. This was more than her pride could bear, and it had to some extent a wholesome effect, as she ceased to dwell upon her grievances, and made great (if not ahvays successful) efforts to treat Marjory as formerly, at any rate in the presence of outsiders. This self restraint was its own reward ; her energies revived, and she threw herself with a keen natural interest into Armell's affairs, the repairs, and furnishing of the Dale Farm, and the purchase of stock, and implements. It was a source of real gratification to her, that Mr Temple had constituted her son steward of the Long Upton estate, during his absence, and she determined so to bear herself at Armell's wedding, that the gossip which had been spread abroad respecting her and her family, should thenceforth die out.

Accordingly she would have liked the young pair to be married from the Hill, in order that she might make a feast for all the country side ; but that she could not achieve. It was hopeless to expect that the miller would take her view of the case, and finding one point after another lost to her she at last made a stand on the subject of a ' best man.' Armell had already written to ask an old school friend in Yorkshire, and found that he could not come. He was perplexed by his mother's insistence ; he had had little time or opportunity to make the acquaintance of other young men since he came back to Brookshire. The young Wilsons who might have been asked as family friends and former neighbours, were both in Liverpool, preparing to sail for Canada. There only remained young Baker, but everyone felt it would not do to ask him. ' He'd be askin' Margate to marry him, an' I shouldn't wonder if she took him, just for contrari ness,' said Mrs Dawes to Armell, ' but come what may you must find some one.

I won't have her left to walk out of the church mumchance. Folks 'ud set her down an old maid at once.' Armell mentioned the difficulty to Lettice, who immediately suggested — ' Mr Cox, a friend of father's.' It was natural enough she should think of him, as he was the only visitor they ever had at the mill, and though she had sufficient woman's wit to know he had admired her, yet she was ignorant of the feeling which he supposed himself to have entertained for her. So it came to pass that one day Armell called at the Braybridge schoolhouse, and in a pleasant, straight -forward way made his request, and ex plained why he made it. Mr Cox was taken by storm, he congratulated himself that he had not yet declined Bourne's invitation, and determined to send a note accepting it by a Rippidge boy from the school that afternoon.

He knew the northern town where Armell had been educated, and the two were friends directly. ' Mr Dawes is a most superior young man,' said the schoolmaster when describing the interview to his mother. 'A complete contrast to the usual style of Brookshire farmer. I look forward with pleasure to making the acquaintance of his mother ancl sister.' On the following market-day he recognised Armell's broad shoulders in a dogcart which drove by in the direction of Rippidge, and beside him was a little figure, neat, and daintily dressed — Miss Dawes, no doubt. He had some curiosity respect ing her, remembering the miller's comment, ' a lady fied little thing.' He saw no more of her however, until the day of the wedding, when, on arriving at the church, he hastened to shake hands with Armell, but started back with a smothered exclamation of surprise as his eye fell on Marjory, clad in rosy lilac, looking so lovely, so refined, that the schoolmaster was quite overcome at the sight of her. ' Ladyfied ? ' he said to himself. ' A lady all over, I should say — still it wasn't so bad for Bourne.

But what old body is this V ' My mother,' said Armell, indicating the ' old body.' No less a person than Mrs Dawes, who, firmly adhering to the old idea that to wear black at a weddingwould bring ill-luck, had donned coloured raiment for the first time since her widowhood. ' 'Taint no use to go and buy a gown as you'll never want again maybe,' she had argued, and, so, heedless of Marjory's remonstrances she had unearthed a long discarded blue silk dress with flounces, over which she wore the scarlet shawl that had figured at the ball ; a roomy bonnet of grass green velvet completed the costume, in which she looked very remarkable to say the least of it, ancl her complexion more deadly white than usual. Her appearance was a shock to Mr Cox, and after being presented to her, he remained silent ; while she, having mentally characterised him as a ' whipper-snapper,' resumed the train of thought which his advent had interrupted.

She roused herself shortly, and dismayed her companions by declaring that she knew Lettice and miller Bourne would be late — the wedding could not take place that morning. When their feelings on this score were relieved, the ceremony duly performed, and the party on their back to the mill, Mrs Dawes was again so deeply buried in thought that Marjorv grew uneasy, for she knew well that such abstrac tion on her mother's part usually meant that she was pondering some course of action, which, if pursued, had awkward consequences for some one or other. The girl set herself to distract her mother's attention, and so could pay but little heed to Mr Cox's efforts to be agreeable, though he was addressing various gay and sportive remarks to her, having nobly resolved to overlook the odd appearance and ungrammatical speech of Mrs Dawes, on the score that she was mother of two such superior children ; and being also in the mood to enjoy himself generally.

The subject of Mrs Dawes' consideration was the miller, whom she (like most people in and about Braybridge) believed to be slowly but surely amassing a large fortune. He had vouchsafed her no information, when one day at Kingsford market she had attacked him, and boldly enquired into his affairs, on the score of the comingalliance between their families. When she had pressed him closely, he had bluffly remarked, ' There was the mill, and what ever he had would come to Lettice, one day of course — but he w-asn't going to die yet.' ' Which no one expects you to miller,' had been her indignant rejoinder. Yes — there was the mill, every one knew that ; and also that the miller had slowly added field to field, and the general im pression was that it lay in his power to purchase many more fields if he were inclined that way ■ yet it was positively asserted that he kept no banking account anywhere, and his strange and miserly habits gave colour to the report that he kept his money hidden in holes and corners about the house and mill.

Mrs Dawes was now about to visit Rippidge for the first time, and was determined to make the most of her opportunity ; if she did not go away wiser than she came — with some insight into the existence or whereabouts of the hoards — she said to herself that her name was not Pamela Dawes. The apple trees in the orchard were still in blos som, and though the wdiite petals were fallen from the pear trees which grew against the house, yet already the accustomed eye could trace the promise of abundant fruit : these things seemed to make amends for the curtainless windows, and obvious lack of paint. Joe Porter had mown the grass on his own responsibility, and made Dick weed the paths, so that the front garden looked less un kempt than usual, and Mrs Dawes was, on the whole, agreeably surprised by her first view of the place.

Mrs Porter curtseying at the gate was quite to her mind: the woman looked old-fashioned, respectable, ancl respectful. Beneath the mill stood a little group of workmen, with their wives and children. The elders made clumsy signs of reverence as the Dawes' dogcart drew up, followed at some distance by Harvey's fly. The children sprang forward and strewed flowers before Lettice as she got out; and when she walked up the steps and across the garden on her husband's arm, a faint cheer was raised. ' Why didn't you give 'er a bit better welcome nor that ? ' asked Mrs Porter indignantly on the next day. ' Well us 'ood 'a liked to,' was the response, ' but us wuz feared on the gaffer ; 'e looked at we that sour as thar wan't nobody could face it out, like.' The ladies went upstairs to take off their bonnets; and Mrs Dawes looked well about her, remarking to Lettice, ' You've a lot o' room here, my dear ; I didn't think it 'ad bin such a big house.' ' Oh, yes ; there are many more rooms than we use,' answered Lettice. ' This first door is father's, and mine is on the other side, in the passage.

The rest are empty, except wdien sometimes wheat or sacks are put there.' Lettice opened her door as she spoke, and Mrs Dawes noted the neatness of the room with approbation, while she congratulated herself on having obtained unasked, one piece of the information she wanted. She doffed the bright shawl, and the green bonnet, replacing the latter by a cap resplendent with red roses, bought new at Kingsford only last week. Then remarking that no doubt Lettice and Marg'ate would like a little talk together, she would go to the gentlemen meanwhile, she left the room. But instead of going downstairs she softly turned the handle of the miller's bedroom door. This apartment was clean — was it ? Yes, it was clean, but everything in it had a worn, dingy appearance, which refused to clo credit to any amount of scrubbing or polishing.

The lime-washed walls and scanty furniture gave it a certain family likeness to the other rooms in the house, but yet instead of looking white and bare, it seemed curiously dark and over full, for from door, and walls, and even from the bedposts, depended old suits of the miller's clothes, all bearing traces of havingdone service among the flour, and most of them a perfect network of patches. Mrs Dawes stood gazing at these stores with uplifted hands ; then recoveringfrom her first surprise, she examined a coat here and there, and seeing the extreme antiquity of them all, she could not restrain the exclamation, ' Bless and save us, here's mawkins enough for all Brookshire ! ' But aware that her time was precious, she turned to examine the furniture, and had one hand on the dressing-table drawer, about to commence her search there, when she was startled by the miller's voice, shouting, ' Lettice !

What are you about ? Are you never coming down ? ' Foiled for this time, Mrs Dawes hurried out of the room, feeling she must not betray herself by letting the girls get down before her ; and she succeeded in reaching the top of the stairs before they opened their door, which, luckily for her, was a little further up the passage than that of the miller's room. Marjory did exclaim when she saw her, ' Why mother, I thought you'd gone down.' But Mrs Dawes turned calmly round and said, ' I was just coming to call you, when I heard you and Lettice in the passage.' This seemed probable enough, so without further remark the three went down to the parlour, where their arrival had been waited for somewhat im patiently ; Armell not liking to be deprived of the presence of his bride, Mr Cox pining for Marjory's smiles, and the miller fretting sorely under the restraint of his position as host.

Mrs Porter had done her best to brighten up the dreary parlour ; she had cleaned and rubbed UP HILL AND DOWN DALE and aired it well, and made great, though mistaken efforts to adorn it with huge posies set in jugs, consisting chiefly of gilly-flowers and 'old man,' whose strong odours pervaded the atmosphere to an unbearable degree. The stiff and uninhabited look of the room affected the spirits of the party, and all experienced a feeling of relief when, summoned by Mrs Porter, they adjourned to the kitchen and seated them selves at the long table, which for once was fairly well covered — thanks to the offending pies. The young people ate, and talked, and laughed, and would have enjoyed themselves greatly had it not been for the perverse conduct of their elders, who not only disagreed on every subject that was started, but shewed a remarkable faculty for starting uncongenial subjects. 'Ow about a 'ousekeeper, miller?' enquired Mrs Dawes. 'What d'ye say ?' snapped the miller, though he had heard the question perfectly. ' What are you going to do for a 'ousekeeper ?

You'll want somebody to do for you when you've lost Lettice.' There was a pause, till Mr Cox gallantly re marked — 'I tell my friend Bourne he'll never fill Miss MRS DAWrES AT THE MILL 13 Lettice's place — I beg your pardon, Mrs Armell Dawes.' Lettice blushed on being addressed by her new title ; Armell laughed and patted his wife on the shoulder ; while the miller said, ' 'Tain't much I want. Can easily get it done.' He turned his head first in the direction of Mrs Dawes and then of Mr Cox, as if he hoped this vague reply would satisfy them both. But his daughter now took the matter up, saying, very earnestly, ' Indeed I wish father ivoidcl have engaged a housekeeper before I left ; there is so much to do, he cannot be made comfortable unless he has some one in the house.' ' Pshaw ! what is there to do ?

I don't know.' ' Why, father, it took all my afternoons only to mend your things ! ' ' I should think so,' began Mrs Dawes, smiling grimly ; but, fearful of betraying her peep behind the scenes, she gave her sentence a different turn. ' I allus understood that you kep' a lot of poultry, Mr Bourne ; and then this is a large 'ouse to be kep' as it should be by one person. You'll never get along with having some one in of a morning, if that's what you were thinking of.' ' Oh, don't you think we've enough of cleaning, UP HILL AND DOWN DALE and feeding fowls, and work, every day without thinking about it now ?' pleaded Marjory, with a little pout and a playful shrug of her shoulders ' And Mr Bourne must be the best judge of what he wants done, and who shall do it.' The miller looked at her almost admiringly, but her mother frowned and made answer — ' Nonsense, Marg'ate, you don't know what responsibility is, or you'd know that such things must be thought on — aye, and talked about — whether folks likes 'em or no. It's well for your brother that Lettice has more sense than you.' ' Perhaps Miss Dawes' talents do not lie in that direction, madam ; we all have our own gifts, and perhaps it may not be her fate to be a farmer's wife,' interposed Mr Cox, politely, unaware on what a sore point he touched. ' She looks to me more cut out for a town than a country life.' ' You're town bred yourself, I suppose ? ' inquired Mrs Dawes, tartly. ' Yes ; I have that privilege — that is, I am a Londoner by birth.' ' H'm, I thought as much,' commented Mrs Dawes.

Then she turned again to the poor miller, who had vainly flattered himself that she had done with him, and was rather looking forward to hear her put little Cox down. ' Is this the woman who is to see after things for you ? ' she asked, with a nod of her head in the direction of Mrs Porter, who was, or appeared to be, out of hearing, and busily engaged at the table which did duty for a sideboard. The miller was now fairly driven into a corner. He had, to say the truth, taken it for granted that Mrs Porter would be only too glad to do such work as he required of her, and had never made any announcement to her or her husband of his inten tions respecting her. This morning it had dawned upon him, for the first time, that she was by no means the meek and yielding character he had taken her for ; and he had began to entertain serious doubts as to whether she would consent to occupy the position he had assigned her.

Mrs Dawes' pointed question was therefore difficult to answer in her presence. ' I have — a — at least — a I haven't — a — decided yet,' he muttered, shifting uneasily in his chair. Mrs Dawes looked at him with unutterable scorn. ' Just like a man,' she said, they allus think things 'ull settle themselves, and that there is allus a woman ready to slave for 'em, let it be how it will.' 'Oh, mother, that is too bad!' exclaimed Marjory, pitying the evident misery of the miller. UP HILL AND DOWrN DALE ' Mrs Dawes does not seem to have a very flattering opinion of our sex certainly,' observed Mr Cox, but I must beg to differ from her on one point. ' 'Tis the women who make slaves of us ; ancl I am sure that no one yet was ever guilty of working her against her will.' ' You're right for once ; for I was never one that wanted persuadingto the work, but allus went on as long as I'd a leg to stand on.

I suppose it's London fashion to talk of folks by their name before their face, as if they was someone else. What are you acting about there Marg'ate ? ' ' Think we've all done now. Let's go into the parlour,' said the miller. This effort on his part was due to Marjory, who, despairing of getting the conversation into smooth waters while they sat at table, had ventured to make a suggestive sign to the miller, which he took quickly and gratefully, since it coincided with his wish to have the meal over. ' Cox would go on eating for ever if you didn't stop him somehow. Really this Dawes girl had more sense than you'd give her credit for,' he thought. Some of the party moved directly he spoke, but Mr Cox objected. ' We've not yet drank the health of the bridal pair,' he said, fearful lest his carefully prepared speech should be thrown away. ' No more we haven't,' said Mrs Dawes, sweeping the table with a glance that said plainly, ' What are we to drink it in ?

There are neither wine nor glasses.' ' Never mind that, mother,' said Armell. ' We know very well how kindly you all feel towards us, and we are just as much obliged as if you had drunk our health, and spoken your good wishes ; aren't we Lettice ? ' But at this juncture up stepped Mrs Porter, a gleam of triumph in her eye, bearing a tray with two bottles of wine and glasses. ' As I received no orders about wine ma'am, nor Mr Bourne didn't seem to think of it, I made bold to bring some of my own rhubarb for the young missises 'ealth to be drunk in — bless 'er an 'er 'usband says I. This was addressed to Mrs Dawes, ancl the bottles were placed before her without the slightest refer ence to the miller, who pushed back his chair again with an angry ' Pshaw ! folly ! ' ' It's very good of you, and we're greatly obliged I'm sure,' said Mrs Dawes, while murmurs of thanks and applause from the others gratified the kind old woman, who stood by with a glass of her homemade VOL. II B wine poured out for her by Mrs Dawes, ancl listened admiringly to Mr Cox's oration, and to Armell's reply, in which he proposed the health of his mother and the miller.

Mrs Porter drank to the first toast with great good will, but to the second with a mental reservation. Mr Cox felt that the bloom had been taken off his first speech by the rough blasts of Mrs Dawes' ire, the chilling effects of the miller's parsimony, and other untoward influences which seemed to surround this wedding ; yet spurred by the undis guised approval of Mrs Porter, he burnt to propose ' The Bridesmaid.' There was no one else to clo it, and he felt that on this subject he could be eloquent indeed. But Armell foresaw this purpose, and knew that such a speech would contain allusions which would rouse his mother's smouldering wrath against her daughter. He therefore contrived to lead Lettice out of the room before the best-man could make a beginning, and so the others had to follow to the parlour.

Here someone suggested a walk in the orchard, and the idea was welcomed, especially by Mrs Dawes, who was soon amiably discussing the poultry with the miller. In a warm corner of the orchard was a seat, where Armell and Lettice, Marjory and Mr Cox soon established themselves. The miller announced that he must go and see how thej' were getting on in the mill, and Mrs Dawes, saying there was a chilly breeze, returned to the house for her shawl. Now was her opportunity to pursue her search. Fearful of interruption by Mrs Porter, she sped up the stairs, as quietly ancl quickly as she could, ancl turned into the miller's room. She could not help pausing again to note the curious effect of the hangings, ancl she saw that the walls behind them were pasted over with old newspapers, yellow with age, worn ancl greasy from contact with the clothes. 'My!' she said to herself, 'this room must ha' vexed poor Lettice sorely.

She's done her best to keep it clean, poor girl, but he's never let her touch thewalls, nor move them rags, it's clear, for there's cobwebs from one lot to another of them, pretty near all round the room, I declare.' Looking round, her eye fell on an oak chest, very small, black with age, and iron bound, placed besid77 the bed, and between it and the door. This, she thought, was surely just what a miser would choose to contain his valuables. She tried the lid, which of course did not open — she had not expected that. She stooped to look at the lock ; it was broken, old, and very rusty, but still it held firm. Could she find the key anywhere ? The chest was quite small, and had an iron handle at each side. She rose and thought she would ' weight it.' It was heavy, so heavy that she set it down again directly, her heart beating violently, partly from the exertion, partly from excitement.

What if it were heavy with gold ? And what else would be put in such a box, and be locked so securely ? Mrs Dawes was not an imaginative woman, but she was an ambitious one, and as she stood to re cover her breath a splendid vision floated before her mind's eye, of unbounded wealth ancl grandeur to come, for her son, and the grandsons yet unborn. But she must waste no time in dreaming. How should she ascertain what was in that box ? She would lift it again. One moment it was in her grasp, then she w-as simultaneously aware of a loud crash, of a shock throughout her whole system, and her figure, bent double by the weight of the box, suddenly regained its upright posture without any effort of her own. She held in her hands the lid and sides of the box only — the bottom had given way ! Oh the fright of that moment !

Her heart stood still, her head swam, and a mist clouded her eyes. The gold would roll all over the room, how should she collect it together ? Some of the sovereigns would be sure to get into the cracks of the floor, and the miller was certain to know exactly how many there were ! But no — sovereigns could never have rattled and thumped against her feet and ankles as she grew conscious that something had clone ! How they tingled to be sure ! But perhaps the money was tied in bags — heaven grant that it were so. She could see clearly now, and looking down at the scattered contents of the box, experienced such a shock as restored her to herself in an instant. There was iron — old iron, ancl nothing else, old horse shoes, hinges, padlocks, keys, hoops, handles, latches, bolts, bars, spoons, lids, everything you could think of — but all broken, rusty, and useless, yet so carefully stored up in this lockecl chest !

In deep disgust Mrs Dawes replaced the top upon the bottom of the box, ancl painfully pushed one bit of iron after another underneath the sides, since she was still unable to open the lid. When she had thus disposed of the larger number, she hid the rest under the bed, thanking her stars that no one had heard the noise made by the catastrophe. She had not finished her task one whit too soon, for now, to her horror, she heard the miller mounting the stairs. Had he heard the crash after all ? There was no chance for her to get out of the room, for the door was close to the head of the stairs. W'hat should she clo ? There was a dark corner on the further side of the bed, where, between it ancl the right hand wall of the room, hung several coats on one nail, the top one being very long, and the whole stood out so far as to answer the purpose of a curtain on that side of the bed.

Mrs Dawes, in her despair, rushed round and concealed herself, as well as she could, under these. It was dusty, stifling, uncomfortable ; but she would bear it if only he would not keep her there long. He entered and shut the door with a bang ; then went back again to make sure it was fast, and returned a second time to lock it. Mrs Dawes dared not look, but could hear every movement distinctly. She felt half -frightened, half reassured by this conduct. Afraid of what he might be going to do ; reassured that he had not come to find out the cause of the noise she had made. His next proceeding was to take off his coat — his best one. He laid it clown on the bed, then took it up again, and examined it carefully through his spectacles, probably to see whether it suffered anjinjury in the labours of the day. ' Now ' thought Mrs Dawes, it will be all right, he is only going to put on an old coa"7 before he goes into the mill.' She did not quite like it, however, when he came round to her side of the bed, and his next proceeding troubled her greatly.

The fireplace was in a projecting wall in the middle of the right side of the room, ancl then a recess was formed between it ancl the wall against which Mrs Dawes was hiding. The miller came into this recess, and placed his right hand on the wall under the clothes which hung there, and passed it along at the height of about four feet from the floor. She could hear his fingers rustling against the paper ; they came nearer and nearer, she thought. Good gracious If he turned the corner and took hold of her, she was a lost woman ! He was so horribly near — she felt as if she must scream: he came nearer still, and she could scarcely restrain herself from seizing his arm. Now he had stopped — thank goodness he had stopped at last. What was he doing ? He felt the wall over and over, and then unhung one decaving garment after another from above the J O o spot where his h 111 1 had paused, and let it fall upon the floor.