Hagar, by the author of 'St. Olave's'.

Front matter

Google to make the world's books discoverable online.

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books

Chapter I

" TT^SHT, hufiht, then, you little ne'er-do- -'"-*■ weeL We shall none win to Morristhorpe Grange a ha'porth sooner for all your whining and crying. Marry, but if I'd have only known what a little vixen of a bairn I were taking to, someone else should have had the carrying of you across to the old country ; for it's precious little anyone can do to keep a smile upon your fiice, let them try as they will."

And Lois Fletcher shifted the baby, a puny, pale-faced creature of ten months old, to her other arm. Shifted it, perhaps, not quite so tenderly as its own mother would have done ;

VOL. I. B for Lois was not gifted with great skill in the management of children, and never professed anything but tolerance for their noisy weakness; although she could put up with it as well as most people, having a fair share of good-temper, and a fine tact for making the best of a bad bargain.

Also there must have been a certain amount of honesty and kindliness in her disposition, or that baby's mother would never have committed the little nursling to her care. Nor would Lois Fletcher herself as she stood by the poor lady's death-bed thousands and thousands of miles across the sea, have promised to take ship with the child, tend it during the voy. age with such skill as was in her power to put forth, and then give it safely in charge of the housekeeper at Morristhorpe Grange, to be by her clothed, fed, nurtured, and in some sort prepared for a Ufe whose dawning hitherto had been all too dark and cloudy.

But the worst part of Lois Fletcher's work was over now. Two days ago the ship, Ftwii^ hss^ had anchored in London Docks, and poor little Opal's protector, after spending the night at an inn, that, as she expressed it, she might begin to feel her feet firm under her again, had come by rail to Cardington, a stirring, bustling, manufacturing town, about a hundred and fifty miles from London ; and thence she was journeying afoot— there being no other means of conveyance, after the last south train reached the place — to Morristhorpe Grange, a distance of at least three miles by the turnpike road. Journeying alone, except for the very undesirable companionship of a fretful baby — ^not her own either — ^hungry, tired, out of temper, along a strange, desolate road, whose gloomy unpicturesqueness the October moon was in vain endeavouring to relieve by a few faint beams of ineffectual light.

Certainly, although she had the hardest

b2 part of her work to look back upon, Lois Fletcher's circumstances were not favourable to amiability; and she might be excused for sUfting her biu-den from arm to arm with a slight touch of impatience, rising into positive irritability, when a cloud, which had been hanging over them all the way from Cardington, began to descend in a steady rain; not violent, but quite enough, if it lasted, to wet them through long before Morristhorpe Grange could be reached.

"Who'd be bothered with other folk's bairns, I wonder?" said Lois, as she tucked the baby roughly up in a comer of her shawl, provoking, thereby, a fresh succession of imperious protestations from little Miss Opal, who was evidently of an independent turn of mind. "Thank goodness, I never had none of my own, for they're just nothing but a worry, do as you can, and try as you may. Husht, husht, then ! I tell you it's a ftiU mile yet, that Morris-

— uji ■.■se

J P. -lUgBg thorpe Grange lies, and never a bite nor a sup will you get for all your screaming while we're safe landed at it. Ay, and it's right glad ril be to lay you into her arms that has to do with you, when I'm fairly out of your mother's trust, poor lady."

And here Lois's voice changed into something like good-natured pity.

"Poor ladyl and her lying with herself among all them strange folk, with never a bit of a stone at her head to tell what a bonnie young creature she was before she dwined away and got shut of her Ufe. Eh, bairn, but there's a deal of misery in the world ; and it's lucky you'll be if you don't get a Benjamin's mess of it ; for as long as things look as they are now. Stay a bit, master ; may 1 make bold to ask you how far it is afore we'll come to Morristhorpe Grange."

These last words were spoken to a decentr looking man, apparently a &rm labourer, who had been following them for some distance, and now quickened his pace to be sooner under shelter from the rain. A hale, ruddy-complexioned old man, with fleshy cheeks falling in liberal folds over his red neck-cloth, and two or three tolerably clean-shaven chins supporting a face which had its own story to tell of honesty and good-will. Altogether Joe Bletchley— for that was the man's name — appeared the right person to speak to on a lonely road, in the gloom of October twilight.

"Morristhorpe Grange, Missis," and Joe turned a pair of twinkling blue eyes somewhat curiously upon the buxom stranger. " Why, it's a pretty fairish step, a good bit over a mile by the turnpike, for you've the most of Squire Lester's farm to go past, and that's none so little for them as has it to walk, being as I reckon the biggest in ijiese parts and well done to and all, for I've had the oversight on it myself this twenty year past, the Squire, you see, being a man as is getting into years ; not but what we've all on us got that to do, as the parson's so often at us about. But there's a deal gainer road across t' fields, nobbut you could find it. It's a qneeriah road to get, but when folks has a bairn to carry they mostly looks out for a short cut. You see they're a awkward thing is a bairn, particlar when it's a parlous night like this here. Law I Missis, but we've had a sight o' wet this back end, we have. They telled me over at Cardington bread's riz again, and not for t' last time neither. And as for a bite o' butcher's meat, why there hasn't been no getting of it this good while past for them as only addles day-labourer wage. But as I was agoing to tell you — ^law 1 Missis, now what was it I was agoing to tell you 1 I've clean forgot."

And Joe mopped his honest old &ce with an end of the red neck-cloth which hung out conveniently for that purpose. He was not

8 HAaAB.

built with a view to rapid locomotion, and Lois Fletcher^s active quick march, joined to the warm mugginess of that late autumn evening, and the exertion of raising his voice to overpower the baby's screams, had put him a little out of his way.

" I don't know what you were going to tell me," answered Lois, amused in spite of herself by the old man's garrulity,"but I asked you how fiur you called it to Morristhorpe Grange."

" So you did, Missis, now I come to recollect ; and how I got firom that there to the bread and butcher-meat is more nor what I can tell ; but my old woman always did say J were as bad as a driven pig for going out of the main road afo^ I could give an answer to them as axed me ought. Yes, it's a matter of a mile or thereabouts by the turnpike ; but you'd be there in ten minutes, nobbut you could find your wiay across the fields past Squire Lester^s bit o' meadow land. I don't know as I would mind putting you in the right road myself and giving you a hand with the bairn, but I daresay my missis has been expecting of me home this good bit past, and she kind o' worrits if I aint to my time. She's very good to me is my old woman, and she's bore a deal, she has, with me, for I was a bad un to her when we first come together.

"It was the drink, you see, as did it," continued Joe. ^^ Law ! Missis, but that drink has a deal to answer for, and I used to leather her when I comed home of a night with a bit more nor I could carry comfortable. That was the only thing the Squire had again me, and I've worked for him and his father afore him this forty year and more ; Joe, says he, it's the drink as does it, you'd be a man in a thousand if you could let the drink alone ; because you see, Missis, I was always to depend on for the work. He hadn't a man on his farm, adn't the Squire, as could do a better day's work nor what I could, and I don't know as the drink ever put me off my mowing and reaping nor nought o' that sort, as I took my wage reg'lar for doing of it. It was my old woman as got the worst of it, when I comed home at night, for the public lay handy betwixt the Squire's bit o* land and our cottage down past the church; and it stands to reason when there's everything warm and comfortable as a man should feel a bit drawn to go and sit hisself down, nobbut he didn't sit over long, which was what I used to do ; and then, you see, it was bad for the old woman at home. But I took a turn a good bit since, along of a gentleman as come from Cardington to lector, and I've never gone the wrong side of the drink this fifteen yeai* past, let alone a drop extra at harvest times and such like; and now the Squire hasn't a man on his land as he can look to more nor what he can to myself; and instead of be-y jy

y having bad to my wife, I love her as well as any other woman, so as you may say it's all right between us now, if it wasn't for her being a bit odd in her temper. But then, you know, that's the way with them all, to have a bit of temper. I never seed a woman yet as hadn't a crook that way."

Lois Fletcher's own temper was slightly roused by this allusion to the failings of her sex, and she interrupted Joe rather curtly.

" It isn't the women's ways I want to knOw about, master ; but if you'd tell me the gainest way to Morristhorpe Grange, I'd be obliged, for it's falling late, and I've back to go early in the morning."

"No offence. Missis. I was always a man as laid myself out to give no offence; and if you go straight forrads while you come to a white gate nigh hand a willow tree on your left hand, this side of Mr. Lester's spare sKp o' meadow land, you'll maybe happen on some-

^ 1

I body bbH tell you t* rest o' f road. YouTl be

atire to know the bit o' land, for there isn't

a better in all Morristhorpe parish, and he

isn't a man, isn't the Squire, to overdrive

hisself with crops, while the land hasn't

time for a bit o' rest from year end to year

end. I always takes a pride in the Sqnire's

land, working for him as I've done, him

and his &ther before him, this more'n five-

and-forty year — ^for I were took on to weed

turnips afore my mother put me to school,

and I've never left the land since, and

never mean to, for when folks gets a good

berth, it's their best look out to stick to

it. There's no good done when a man's

always on the move for a bit of extra

wage, as I says to my son Ben when he

gets agate of bettering hiBsel£ ^Ben,' says

^^I reckon we can't be far oJBT Squire Lester's gate if it's anywhere about here," said m^ u I L m^^^^mmmmmmmmm^mmmtmmammmmmmmmmmmmKiK^

Lois, who began now for the first time in her Kfe to understand how extremely circumambulatory the habits of driven pigs must be, if they at all resembled those of her companion. ^^ I think I'd better step on a bit and wish you good night."

" Well, yes. Missis, I was arthinking the same, as your ways and mine lies contrary; this here bridle-road is gainest for me, not liking to keep my old woman waiting no longer nor what I can help, being a bit of worrit, though I don't mean no oflfenoe by it, when she gets put past her time; because, you see, some folks is particular, and then if there happens to be a bit of temper aback of it "

A gentleman on horseback passed them at that moment. Lois Fletcher, despairing of any farther guidance from her loquacious companion, went into the middle of the road and took hold of the horse's bridle.

J body ae'll tell you t' rest o' f road. You'll be sure to know the bit o' land, for there isn't a better in all Morristhorpe parish, and he isn't a man, isn't the Squire, to overdrive hisself with crops, while the land hasn't time for a bit o' rest from year end to year end. I always takes a pride in the Squire's land, working for him as I've done, him and his &ther before him, this more'n fiveand-forty year — ^for I were took on to weed turnips afore my mother put me to school, and I've never left the land since, and never mean to, for when folks gets a good berth, it's their best look out to stick to it. There's no good done when a man's always on the move for a bit of extra wage, as I says to my son Ben when he gets agate of bettering hisself. ^Ben,' says

M

"I reckon we can't be far off Squire Lester's gate if it's anywhere about here," said

Lois, who began now for the first time in her life to nnderstand how extremely circumambulatory the habits of driven pigs must be, if they at all resembled those of her companion. " I think Td better step on a bit and wish you good night."

" Well, yes, Missis, I was arthinking the same, as your ways and mine lies contrary; this here bridle-road is gainest for me, not liking to keep my old woman waiting no longer nor what I can help, being a bit of worrit, though I don't mean no offence by it, when she gets put past her time; because, you see, some folks is particular, and then if there happens to be a bit of temper aback of it "

A gentleman on horseback passed them at that moment. Lois Fletcher, despairing of any fiirther guidance from her loquacious companion, went into the middle of the road and took hold of the horse's bridle.

I body ae'll tell you t* rest o' f road. Yotf 11 be Bure to know the bit o' land, for there isn't a better in all Morristhorpe parish, and he isn't a man, isn't the Sqnire, to overdriye hisself with crops, while the land hasn't time for a bit o' rest firom year end to year end. I always takes a pride in the Squire's land, working for him as Tve done, him and his &ther before him, this more'n fiveand-forty year — for I were took on to weed turnips afore my mother put me to school, and I've never left the land since, and never mean to, for when folks gets a good berth, it's their best look out to stick to it. There's no good done when a man's always on the move for a bit of extra wage, as I says to my son Ben when he gets agate of bettering hisself. ^Ben,' says

^^I reckon we can't be &r oiBT Squire Lester's gate if it's anywhere about here," said i««iai

Lois, who began now for the first time in her life to understand how extremely circumambnlatory the habits of driven pigs must be, if they at all resembled those of her companion. " I think I'd better step on a bit and wish you good night."

" Well, yes, Missis, I was arthinking the same, as your ways and mine lies contrary; this here bridle-road is gainest for me, not liking to keep my old woman waiting no longer nor what I can help, being a bit of worrit, though I don't mean no offence by it, when she gets put past her time; because, you see, some folks is particular, and then if there happens to be a bit of temper aback of it "

A gentleman on horseback passed them at that moment. Lois Fletcher, despairing of any farther guidance from her loquacious companion, went into the middle of the road and took hold of the horse's bridle.

f body as'll tell you t' rest o' t' road. You'll be

sure to know the bit o' land, for there isn't

a better in all Morristhorpe parish, and he

isn't a man, isn't the Squire, to overdrive

hisself with crops, while the land hasn't

time for a bit o' rest from year end to year

end. I always takes a pride in the Squire's

land, working for him as Fve done, him

and his &ther before him, this more'n five-

and-forty year — for I were took on to weed

turnips afore my mother put me to school,

and I've never left the land since, and

never mean to, for when folks gets a good

berth, it's their best look out to stick to

it. There's no good done when a man's

always on the move for a bit of extra

wage, as I says to my son Ben when he

gets agate of bettering hissel£ ^Ben,' says

"I reckon we can't be far off Squire Lester's gate if it's anywhere about here," said

Lois, who began now for the first time in her life to understand how extremely circumambulatory the habits of driven pigs must be, if they at all resembled those of her companion, '^ I think I'd better step on a bit and wish you good night."

^^ Well, yes, Missis, I waa arthinking the same, as your ways and mine lies contrary; this here bridle-road is gainest for me, not liking to keep my old woman waiting no longer nor what I can help, being a bit of worrit, though I don't mean no oiSence by it, when she gets put past her time; because, you see, some folks is particular, and then if there happens to be a bit of temper aback of it "

A gentleman on horseback passed them at that moment. Lois Fletcher, despairing of any further guidance from her loquacious companion, went into the middle of the road and took hold of the horse's bridle.

body asTl tell you t* rest o' f road. Yotf 11 be sure to know the bit o' land, for there isn't a better in all Morristhorpe parish, and he isn't a man, isn't the Squire, to overdrive hisself with crops, while the land hasn't time for a bit o' rest firom year end to year end. I always takes a pride in the Squire's land, working for him as I've done, him and his &ther before him, this more'n fiveand-forty year — for I were took on to weed turnips afore my mother put me to school, and Fve never left the land since, and never mean to, for when folks gets a good berth, it's their best look out to stick to it. There's no good done when a man's always on the move for a bit of extra wage, as I says to my son Ben when he gets agate of bettering hisself. ^Ben,' says

^^I reckon we can't be far oS Squire Lester's gate if it's anywhere about here," said i^f^^'^^^^^^^^^mmmmmmmm^mmmmmmmmmmmtmmmmm

Lois, who began now for the first time in her Kfe to understand how extremely circumambulatory the habits of driven pigs must be, if they at all resembled those of her companion. '^ I think I'd better step on a bit and wish you good night."

« Well, yea, Missis. I was arthinking the same, as your ways and mine lies contrary; this here bridle-road is gainest for me, not Kking to keep my old woman waiting no longer nor what I can help, being a bit of worrit, though I don't mean no offence by it, when she gets put past her time; because, you see, some folks is particular, and then if there happens to be a bit of temper aback of it "

A gentleman on horseback passed them at that moment. Lois Fletcher, despairing of any farther guidance from her loquacious companion, went into the middle of the road and took hold of the horse's bridle.

I

t body ae'll tell you t' rest o' f road. You'll be sure to know the bit o' land, for there isn't a better in all Morristhorpe parish, and he isn't a man, isn't the Squire, to overdrive hisself with crops, while the land hasn't time for a bit o' rest from year end to year end. I always takes a pride in the Squire's land, working for him as I've done, him and his father before him, this more'n five* and-forty year — ^for I were took on to weed turnips afore my mother put me to school, and Fve never left the land since, and never mean to, for when folks gets a good berth, it's their best look out to stick to it. There's no good done when a man's always on the move for a bit of extra wage, as I says to my son Ben when he gets agate of bettering hisself. 'Ben,' says

"I reckon we can't be far oflf Squire Lester's gate if it's anywhere about here," said wm

Lois, who began now for the first time in her Kfe to understand how extremely circumambulatory the habits of driven pigs must be, if they at all resembled those of her companion. " I think I'd better step on a bit and wish you good night."

" Well, yes, Missis, I was arthinking the same, as your ways and mine lies contrary; this here bridle-road is gainest for me, not liking to keep my old woman waiting no longer nor what I can help, being a bit of worrit, though I don't mean no offence by it, when she gets put past her time; because, you see, some folks is particular, and then if there happens to be a bit of temper aback of it "

A gentleman on horseback passed them at that moment. Lois Fletcher, despairing of any farther guidance from her loquacious companion, went into the middle of the road and took hold of the horse's bridle.

I

f body ae'll tell you t' rest o' f road. You'll be sure to know the bit o' land, for there isn't a better in all Morristhorpe parish, and he isn't a man, isn't the Squire, to overdrive hisself with crops, while the land hasn't time for a bit o' rest from year end to year end. I always takes a pride in the Squire's land, working for him as Pve done, him and his &.ther before him, this more'n five* and-forty year — ^for I were took on to weed turnips afore my mother put me to school, and Fve never left the land since, and never mean to, for when folks gets a good berth, it's their best look out to stick to it. There's no good done when a man's always on the move for a bit of extra wage, as I says to my son Ben when he gets agate of bettering hisself. 'Ben,' says

'^I reckon we can't be far off Squire Lester's gate if it's anywhere about here," said

T^ mt^m

Lois, who began now for the first time in her Kfe to understand how extremely circumambulatory the habits of driven pigs must be, if they at all resembled those of her companion. '^ I think I'd better step on a bit and wish you good night."

" Well, yes. Missis, I was arthinking the same, as your ways and mine lies contrary; this here bridle-road is gainest for me, not liking to keep my old woman waiting no longer nor what I can help, being a bit of worrit, though I don't mean no offence by it, when she gets put past her time; because, you see, some folks is particular, and then if there happens to be a bit of temper aback of it "

A gentleman on horseback passed them at that moment. Lois Fletcher, despairing of any farther guidance from her loquacious companion, went into the middle of the road and took hold of the horse's bridle.

I body ae'll tell you t' rest o' f road. You'll be sure to know the bit o' land, for there isn't a better in all Morristhorpe parish, and he isn't a man, isn't the Squire, to overdrive hisself with crops, while the land hasn't time for a bit o' rest from year end to year end. I always takes a pride in the Squire's land, working for him as Pve done, him and his &.ther before him, this more'n five* and-forty year — ^for I were took on to weed turnips afore my mother put me to school, and Fve never left the land since, and never mean to, for when folks gets a good berth, it's their best look out to stick to it. There's no good done when a man's always on the move for a bit of extra wage, as I says to my son Ben when he gets agate of bettering hisself. 'Ben,' says

'^I reckon we can't be far off Squire Lester's gate if it's anywhere about here," said

Lois, who began now for the firat time in her Kfe to understand how extremely circumambulatory the habits of driven pigs must be, if they at all resembled those of her companion. " I think I'd better step on a bit and wish you good night."

" Well, yes. Missis, I was arthinking the same, as your ways and mine lies contrary; this here bridle-road is gainest for me, not liking to keep my old woman waiting no longer nor what I can help, being a bit of worrit, though I don't mean no offence by it, when she gets put past her time; because, you see, some folks is particular, and then if there happens to be a bit of temper aback of it "

A gentleman on horseback passed them at that moment. Lois Fletcher, despairing of any farther guidance from her loquacious companion, went into the middle of the road and took hold of the horse's bridle.

body ae'll tell you t' rest o' f road. You'll be Bure to know the bit o' land, for there isn't a better in all Morristhorpe parish, and he isn't a man, isn't the Squire, to overdrive hisself with crops, while the land hasn't time for a bit o' rest from year end to year end. I always takes a pride in the Squire's land, working for him as Pve done, him and his &.ther before him, this more'n five* and-forty year — ^for I were took on to weed turnips afore my mother put me to school, and I've never left the land since, and never mean to, for when folks gets a good berth, it's their best look out to stick to it. There's no good done when a man's always on the move for a bit of extra wage, as I says to my son Ben when he gets agate of bettering hisself 'Ben,' says

^^I reckon we can't be fisur off Squire Lester's gate if it's anywhere about here," said

Lois, who began now for the first time in her Kfe to understand how extremely circumambulatoiy the habits of driven pigs must be, if they at all resembled those of her companion. " I think I'd better step on a bit and wish you good night."

" Well, yes, Missis, I was arthinking the same, as your ways and mine lies contrary ; this here bridle-road is gainest for me, not liking to keep my old woman waiting no longer nor what I can help, being a bit of worrit, though I don't mean no offence by it, when she gets put past her time; because, you see, some folks is particular, and then if there happens to be a bit of temper aback of it "

A gentleman on horseback passed them at that moment. Lois Fletcher, despairing of any farther guidance from her loquacious companion, went into the middle of the road and took hold of the horse's bridle.

body ae'll tell you t' rest o' f road. You'll be Bure to know the bit o' land, for there isn't a better in all Morristhorpe parish, and he isn't a man, isn't the Squire, to overdrive hisself with crops, while the land hasn't time for a bit o' rest from year end to year end. I always takes a pride in the Squire's land, working for him as I've done, him and his &.ther before him, this more'n five* and-forty year — ^for I were took on to weed turnips afore my mother put me to school, and I've never left the land since, and never mean to, for when folks gets a good berth, it's their best look out to stick to it. There's no good done when a man's always on the move for a bit of extra wage, as I says to my son Ben when he gets agate of bettering hissel£ 'Ben,' says w