Part 15 (1/2)

”I have not had much success, but still I can tell Bruce that I have made a beginning, that I have broken the ice,” thought Emmie. ”That woman was civil enough; I should not have much minded going into the cottage had I chanced to find her alone.”

As Emmie's brothers were, as usual, pa.s.sing the day at S----, Mr. Trevor was his daughter's only companion at luncheon. The master of Myst Court was a pleasant, kindly-looking man, who had reached the shady side of fifty, but with a form yet unbent and hair but lightly touched with gray. He had been from youth a steady hard-working man, and Bruce had probably derived his habits of business from his father's example. But with Mr. Trevor the wheel of labour had hitherto run in one groove, or rather, one may say, on a tramway made smooth by habit. It had been as natural to Mr. Trevor to go to his office, as it had been to partake of his breakfast. The complete change in his mode of life caused by the removal to Wilts.h.i.+re, was like the jarring caused by turning suddenly off the tramway into a stone-paved road. Mr. Trevor had not been trained to perform the duties of a landlord and country squire, and he more than suspected that what he might have gained in dignity of position he had lost in comfort. Now as he sat at table in the lofty dining-room of his stately mansion, Mr. Trevor's brow wore an expression of worry which Emmie had never seen upon it when the family had resided in Summer Villa.

”You look tired, dear papa,” she observed.

”I have had a good deal to annoy me, Emmie,” said her father, who was making very slow progress indeed with his plateful of beef, tough and not much more than warmed through. ”I find that Farmer Vesey has been taking, in a most unscrupulous manner, a slice off my west field which borders upon his lands. The steward says that I shall have to go to law about it. I detest going to law! Why are not boundaries clearly marked!

Then I've had endless complaints from the people whose cottages border the brook below Bullen's dye-works; they say that the dye kills all the fish, and makes the water unfit for drinking. Really the complaints have good foundation. I walked down to-day to the place, and saw that the water is so discoloured that I would not let a dog slake his thirst in a stream so polluted.”

”And are the cottagers your tenants, papa?”

”Yes; so it is my business to defend their rights,” observed Mr. Trevor.

”I went at once to Bullen, hoping that we might come to some satisfactory arrangement, without having recourse to the lawyers.”

”And I hope that you found the manufacturer open to reason?” said Emmie.

”I found him to be a low, vulgar, money-making man, who would not care if he dyed all the rivers in England scarlet and blue, so that he could fish his profits out of them. I have heard that Bullen gives infidel lectures in S----, so that he tries to poison the springs of knowledge as well as the waters of the brook.”

”What a dreadful man!” exclaimed Emmie.

”I shall have to go to law with him,” observed Mr. Trevor, with a yet more troubled look; ”I cannot let my tenants be poisoned, and yet I hate the worry and expense of a suit. I shall wait a while, and see if this fellow Bullen will not come to terms. Then I've had another annoying thing brought to my notice this morning: it is certain that there is poaching on my estate. There has been no proper care taken to preserve the game during the time of my predecessor, and if matters go on in the same way, pheasants will be as rare here as black swans. Really the cheapest and easiest way to get game is from a London market!”

The same reflection had just occurred to Emmie. Joe, in his noisy way, now entered the room, and told Miss Trevor, with awkward bluntness, that a woman was asking to see her.

”What is her name?” inquired Emmie.

”She didn't give none, miss,” said Joe; ”but she has brought a lot of children with her.”

”Miss Trevor is engaged; desire the woman to wait a little,” said the master of Myst Court.

Joe went out, banging the door behind him, but in less than three minutes returned.

”There be two other women come to see you, miss,” said he. ”One says as you told her to call.”

”I bade no one call,” said Emmie. ”I am sorry, papa, that you should be thus disturbed at your meal.”

”I had better myself see what is the cause of this irruption of the Goths and Vandals,” observed Mr. Trevor, rising from his seat, and then quitting the room. Mr. Trevor had scarcely more experience than his daughter in dealing personally with the poor, but he felt heavy upon his conscience the responsibility belonging to the owner of landed property.

Mr. Trevor in a short time returned, looking grave and somewhat perplexed. ”How one misses clergy, and district visitors, and organized societies in a place like this!” he exclaimed, as he resumed his seat at the table. ”All these women declare that they are in want, that their husbands are out of work; and how am I to tell whether this be or be not the fact? I have given each of the beggars a trifle, and told them not to come here again, that we will make inquiries about them. I cannot have my door thus besieged. I wonder what brought on us this sudden invasion!”

”I'm afraid that it was my unlucky half-crown,” observed Emmie.

”To whom did you give a half-crown?” asked her father.

”I gave it at the first cottage to the left of the gate, beyond Harper's wretched little den,” replied Emmie. She read something very unlike approbation in the eyes of her parent, and shrank from their questioning gaze.

”What! you gave it at the cottage of Blunt, the man who earns higher wages than almost any one else in the place!” cried Mr. Trevor, slightly raising his voice.

”The cottage did not look _very_ comfortable,” said Emmie in an apologetic tone. She felt that the excuse was scarcely sincere, for the comfort or discomfort of the abode had had little to do with her giving the money.

”Of course the cottage is not comfortable, for the man Blunt is notoriously given to drinking,” said Mr. Trevor, ”and doubtless your half-crown is already turned into gin. You must really exert your common sense in visiting my tenants, my dear child,” he continued in a tone of vexation, ”or you will do incalculable mischief where you intend to do good.”