CHAPTER IX.

ROLLO'S EXPERIMENT.

When people are just in the position, newly assumed, of these two,

sixty hours of absence, it will be allowed, is a long time; and

between Friday evening and Monday morning Dane could not

make it shorter. Therefore nobody will be surprised that he made

his appearance Monday morning in the breakfast room.

'You are early,' said Mr. Falkirk with an accent of some surprise,

as he dropped his napkin and rose to take his guest's hand. Rollo

picked up the napkin.

'It was necessary, if I meant to catch you at breakfast.'

'Wouldn't after breakfast do?'

'Well, no. I wanted a cup of coffee; and though no doubt my friend

Mrs. Bywank would have supplied me later, I should have had to

take it alone.'

'That is a very sensible way to get one's morning coffee,' returned

the growler.

'You do not seem to act upon your principles.'

'I have a charge on my mind, you see. My coffee, if Gotham gave

it to me, would always he flavoured with something worse than

grounds. So I come here to get it clear. Have you brought

business?'

'Not for you, sir, to-day.'

'Enough of your own in the Hollow by this time, haven't you?'

'Not so much but that I mean to have more.'

'More business?'

'If I can.'—Then he asked Hazel how she did?

Hazel recollected in time that it would not be true to say that she

felt "more like herself" to-day, and changed that form of reply into

a demure 'Pretty well, I think.'

'Pretty well, I think,' Mr. Falkirk echoed. 'Nobody but one who has

tried it can tell what it is to have the care of a witch. I have been

trying for a week, Rollo, to discover when we are to go to town,

and whether I am expected to secure a house; and it is past my

power to find out, the one or the other.'

'You do not like Chickaree?' Rollo inquired with matter-of-fact

composure.

'_She_ don't, in winter.' It is to be remarked, that the elder guardian,

completely thrown off his suspicions by the course of the past

winter and summer, supposed himself indulging in safe

pleasantries with the only one almost with whom he could venture

them.

'My dear Mr. Falkirk!—how can you say I dislike what I have

never tried!' said Miss Wych.

'Can you inform me distinctly, Miss Hazel, whether you wish to

try it?'

'Distinct information rather comes in the way of those vague

desires which are supposed to beset me, sir.'

'I beg your pardon, Miss Hazel; I never supposed any such thing.'

'Well, sir—I do not see why October need worry itself about

December.'

'I do not see why it should,' chimed in Rollo lazily.

'Does it not, down in your Hollow?'

'Not at all.'

'What more work are you wishing for there?'

'I am thinking—by and by—of building another mill.'

'Another mill!'—Mr. Falkirk's surprise was evidently more than it

was polite to shew.—'You have not ground room, have you?'

'Not a present. I hope to be able to secure it. There _is_ room, in the

valley.'

'Then you expect your ventures to succeed?'

'Or I should not think of enlarging them.'

'But Charteris and others are underselling you now.'

'Yes.'

'And they will.'

'While they are able.'

'And what under heaven is the use and purpose of it all?' exclaimed

Mr. Falkirk testily. 'I beg your pardon—I know I am not your

guardian—but what are you aiming to do?'

'Not to ruin myself. To do that would spoil my plan. There are

several thousand people living in that Hollow, Mr. Falkirk.'

'I suppose so.'

'Do you know how they are living?'

'No. What business is it of mine?'

'Miss Kennedy is going this morning to see what business it is of

mine.'

Mr. Falkirk pushed himself away from the table and presently left

the room. The others mounted without delay and set off.

'When have you been on Jeannie before?' Rollo asked, when they

had got quit of the Chickaree woods and were indulging in a good

trot along the level country road.

'Not since the end of last November,—the day before I went to

town.'

'My little Wych!' said Rollo, riding close up alongside,—'what sort

of a year has this been?'

'Very mixed up. Part of the winter was pleasant.'

'The summer?—'

'I suppose that was pleasant too—only I did not enjoy it.'

'Why didn't you come home?'

'The old story,' she said laughing and colouring,—'I did not want

to come. Mr. Falkirk thinks I never have any other reason to give.'

'Might be a very good reason to give Mr. Falkirk. Now, do you

know what you are going to look at?'

'Mill people and mill work.'

'In detail; but in general you are going to see what my friend Mrs.

Powder calls "my experiment." A problem of life-work, if you

will; the question being, what can be done with fifteen hundred

human beings accustomed only to poverty and hard work, to bring

them to their nearest attainment of happy and useful living.'

'Fifteen hundred unhappy people!'—Hazel repeated. 'I should think

everybody would be trying experiments.'

'You rode through the place once. You remember how they

looked. Tell me what you would have tried first?'

'I remember. But I hardly knew what it meant, then.' There was a

little emphasis upon the last word.

'Go on, and say what would occur to you to do.'

'Ah, you will only laugh and call me unpractical,' said Hazel

smiling; 'but the first thing _I_ should do, Mr. Rollo, would be to

beautify the places where they live. I believe it does people good

to be—just a little—smothered in roses.'

'I believe in roses; but they were not the first thing I set about. For

two reasons; they take time, and also they have to be in a certain

degree prepared for. The old dwellings could not be beautified; I

had to build new ones; but also, Hazel, and this is a more

important thing, the desire for something better than the people

knew, had to be excited. Roses are not a substitute for bread,—to

the uncultured mind,' he added smiling; 'and men that are ground

in the dust of poverty need first of all to get ambition enough to

raise their heads and wash their faces. The _very_ first thing I did,

was to make the pay sufficient for decent living. That gave them

from the beginning some confidence in me, too.'

'Yes, of course. O that, I knew, you had done. I heard of it last

winter.'

'Then in that connection there is another thing. I am beginning now

to make the pay as far as it is possible follow the work done,

instead of the time. I had to wait a good while before attempting

this, because I could trust nobody to tell me or advise me, and

before I could be competent to form my own judgment in the

matter I had a great deal of study to do. And practice,' he added

smiling. 'As far as practicable, I will have the pay dependent on the

quantity and quality of the work. This stimulates effort and

ministers to the sense of character, and also obviates several

troublesome questions which are apt to come up between

employers and employed. The people are not enlightened enough

to like any change which they do not immediately feel for the

better; but they will come into it, for they must; and then they will

like it.'

Hazel looked amused. 'Is not that last clause an addition to the old

code?' she said. 'The first two sound natural.'

Rollo smiled a little, but vouchsafed no further notice. 'Now,' he

went on, 'to pursue your plan, I am building new cottages; and I

shall leave the rose-planting to you.'

'In-doors and out.—Do you know, Mr. Rollo, I should think you

had done the very best possible preparatory work by getting it into

the peoples' heads that somebody cared whether they had roses, or

clean faces, or anything else. And there I can speak from

experience.'

'What sort of experience?'

'Because I never had anybody to care,' said Hazel. 'So I know how

it feels.'

'Never had anybody to care—what?' said Dane, riding close up

alongside and looking earnestly for the answer.

'What I did, or how I dressed, or what became of me generally,'

said Hazel. 'O I suppose Mr. Falkirk _cared_, but he never shewed it

in any way to do me a bit of good. There was no one I could

please, and no one I could displease; and so while people thought I

had everything, I used to feel all alone, and thought I had nothing.'

Rollo was silent and grave.

'I knew—very soon—that you cared,' she said, with the pretty soft

fall of eyes and voice. 'I mean, cared for my sake.'

'Very soon?' said Rollo. 'How soon, you Wych?'

'Other people were thinking of what I was, and you of what you

thought I ought to be; and it was very easy to feel the difference.'

'When?' said Rollo, scarce controlling a smile, 'When did you see

it first, I mean?'

'I think you began to criticise me, almost as soon as I got here.'

'And then, Hazel, how long was it before you began to forgive

me?'

'O there was no forgiveness in question,' she said, passing his

words with a blush. 'The criticising shewed a little bit of real

interest. And that is what I had been as hungry for, as your mill

people for more tangible things. But I did not mean that I

thought—I did not think about it at all. Not much.'

'Not all—not much,' said Rollo. 'No. Only a little. I understand.

And what should I have got for my pains, if I had pressed the final

question a year ago?'

'I did not think a _little_,' said Hazel, looking flushed and

downcast,—'only when you made me. And when people talked.'

Rollo enjoyed the sight a minute or two, and then proposed a run.

He kept it a very gentle run, however, and when they came to a

talking pace again resumed the subject of the mills.

'How much have you thought about it?' he asked. 'What next

would you propose?'

'Does your increase of wages let the children stay at home when

they are sick? and the little ones when they are well?'

'I admit no children under twelve nor employ any families that

send their little children to other mills. That was one of the first

steps I took; to settle that. The other thing is somewhat less easy to

manage. I cannot make a rule. There would be endless shamming.

The only way is to keep a careful supervision myself, and send

home any child manifestly unfit for work. In such a case I keep on

the wages for one week; at the end of that time the child comes, or

doesn't come. If the latter, I know something is very much amiss,

and look after the case accordingly. And this matter, as yet, I can

trust to nobody but myself.'

'You can trust me,' said Hazel. 'In such matters women's eyes are

surer than men's.'

'At twelve miles distance?' said he smiling.

'You are going to open a short cut. And even twelve miles, upon

Jeannie, is not much.'

Rollo rode a few yards in silence.

'She is your property, of course you know?'

'Thank you, Mr. Rollo!' Hazel said softly. She was smoothing out

some locks of Jeannie's mane, which the wind and the run had

tossed out of place.

'Take care!' said her companion. 'I shall not take thanks from you

in that shape. Here is the Hollow. I am glad Charteris is at this

end.'

The banks of the dell had risen up about them and the mill

buildings began to appear. Paul Charteris' woollen mills came first,

brown and dismal as such things are apt to look, surrounded with

their straggling settlement of poor cottages. It was a glorious

October day; fair over-head and glowing over all the earth; if

atmosphere and colouring could have put a blessing upon misery

the houses of Mill Hollow would have owned the blessing. But the

clear golden light shewed the bare walls, the barren ground, the

dingy, forlorn hopelessness of everything, in the full blank

nakedness of the facts.

Slowly the riders walked their horses now, looking at it all. Slowly

passed one mill after another with its straggling tenements for toil

and discontent. Getting beyond these, and higher up the valley,

new signs began to appear. Mills are mills indeed, and own no

kindred with beauty. But along the slopes of the Hollow, behind

and between the mill buildings, were tokens of life. Numbers of

new cottages were risen, and rising, on the upper slopes of the

banks, the new village even flowing over the crest of the hill upon

the level land above. Most were of gray stone; some were frame

houses painted white; each one that was finished having a space of

ground enclosed within a little paling fence. You could see

indications of change everywhere. Here some of the old huts were

taking down, leaving room for new erections; there, certain old

rubbish heaps had disappeared; the people they met seemed to

wear a different air and to step more alertly. Further up the valley

and close upon the roadway Hazel could see a building going up

which was clearly no mill cottage; it was much too large. The

cottages indeed were of different sizes, to suit different families

and different tastes; this however was another affair. Low stone

walls of considerably extent were getting a roof put on; the

windows were large and many; yet it had hardly the look of a

church. Builders and teamsters were at work over all this part of

the valley.

The bright eyes had been very intent, the tokens of excitement in

either cheek growing deeper and more defined; clearly, for Wych

Hazel, Morton Hollow had changed names. But absorbed in her

scrutiny she had given neither word nor look to anything but the

Hollow.

Now she suddenly turned to her companion.

'What is that for?' she said. 'A church?'

'Not exactly. But given better wages and houses to live in—what is

the next step you would take in dealing with a very ignorant

community, whom you wished to raise to a higher level?'

'Teach them, I suppose. Then is that your reading-room, Mr.

Rollo?'

'Hitherto—I will shew you where I read,' he said, suddenly

breaking off. And dismounting, he came to Wych Hazel and took

her down, ordering the horses forward to the bend. They went then

to the door of one of the mills near at hand and Rollo whistled. The

door opening, they were admitted to a great, long, low room, at the

back of which bales were stowed from floor to ceiling. A large

space was more or less filled with bales standing about; evidently

on the move, either to be hoisted away for use or stowed up like

the rest for keeping.

'Here is my place,' said Rollo. 'When Saturday night comes, all is

made snug as the deck of a frigate; this part of the floor is cleared

and supplied with benches; I have lamps hung from the rafters, and

yonder I stand on a cotton bale. Do you know what I do it for?—

not mount a cotton bale, I mean, but what for I have gone into the

whole thing?'

'I suppose I know,' said Hazel. 'To identify yourself, in a sort, with

the people, and to give them good amusements, and to entice them

on.'

'All that. And to keep them out of the gin shops. Saturday night is

pay time. With his pockets full of money, what can a poor rascal

do but ruin himself with beer, if he knows nothing better? I am

following an English example in the endeavour to save them. I

provide coffee and buns, at cost prices; and then I manage to give

them entertainment, with a spice of instruction, till too late in the

night to allow of any foolery at the other places. I think I am

succeeding pretty well; the popularity of my readings has been

steadily on the increase. By and by I am going to vary the

programme with microscopic and other exhibitions,—as soon as

the people are ready for it, and I am ready.'

Miss Wych walked over to a prostrate cotton bale, and mounting

upon it took a general survey of the room, ending with its owner

and a flash of fun.

'Now,' she said, 'I am you, and you are the audience. Would they

come to a regular night-school, do you think? And whereabouts in

the Hollow do you intend to place a cotton bale for me?'

'What will you do from it?'

'Something so different from what you do, that unless we run on

different evenings, one of us will draw empty houses,' said Hazel,

softly stepping along the cotton-bale from end to end. 'Where does

Miss Powder sit?'—this with a sudden pause at one end of the bale.

'Where she will never sit again,' said Rollo. 'She was here Saturday

night with a party. I had wind of it before, and notified my people

that it would be a German night. So it was.'

Hazel laughed. 'And she went home to study German!—Very

dangerous conduct, Mr. Rollo! Suppose _I_ had come with the

party?'

Rollo was here interrupted by a question of business. When it was

despatched, he came up to Wych Hazel's perch and jumped her

down.

'You must come away,' he said; 'it's too cold here for you. What is

in your mind, Hazel? What will you do, if I give you a bale? and

where will you have it? Go on, and tell me what is in your head?'

The wistful look came back again, humble and sweet. Clearly,

however well Hazel thought of her power to take care of herself,

she was less sure about taking care of other people. 'I doubt if I am

fit for any such elevation yet,' she said. 'But I suppose there are

some things I could teach the children. And I might be a Visiting

Committee—to go about in the houses and find out the women's

wants and troubles, and clear some of them away. I know at least

how people ought _not_ to live.'

'You can do that,' said Rollo; 'and that is just what you will do

admirably. Did you think I was going to set you to teach school?'

'Are you quite sure you are not?' said she, laughing up at him. 'I

could, Mr. Rollo,—if I might learn first.'

'You could not teach these creatures. But you see another use for

my nondescript building over there. Shall we go and look at it.'

The short walk was enlivened for Hazel by the encounters that met

them. Every child gave a full smile, and every man a salutation

with good will in it. On the other side the master had a word for

every one, gracious as well as discriminating. It was evident that

he knew them all, and their ways and their needs.

The schoolhouse, if it were that, was found to be rather a spacious

erection. The main apartment was lofty, large and light; the fittings

were not in yet. On each side a narrower and lower room or hall

ran the whole length of the central one which was lighted from a

clerestory. The workmen were putting in window-frames and

hanging doors, and finishing the roofing. All the halls

communicated.

'This is for the children by day, and for the night-schools and my

entertainments in the evening. The hall to the west is for a coffee

room. My coffee and buns are popular.'

'Where do you get them? From the top of the hill?'

Rollo shook his head. 'No, that would not do. I arranged an old

office for a bakery, found my people, and got Gyda to teach them.

So several of the women in the Hollow turn a penny that way; and

then the bread is sold to the men at cost prices. Coffee the same.

And Saturday nights the throng is in earnest. Then they come to

me in good humour.'

'Well, do many of the older women work in the mills?'

'They all work that can,' said Rollo gravely.

'But Mr. Rollo!—then I will tell you another thing you want; and

that is a room and a keeper for the little children. Don't you know?'

she said, facing round in her eagerness,—'such a place as I have

read of in France, I think, where the women who go out to work

leave their children all day; so that they cannot burn themselves

up, nor fret themselves to death, nor do anything but play and be

happy.'

Dane looked at her with a smile.

'I told you I wanted your help,' he said. '_That_ is something I have

not thought of.'

'I am glad!'—She could not say another word, for sheer pleasure,

and those were as quiet as three mice.

'I am but making a beginning as yet, Hazel,' Dane went on. 'The

first obvious things it is easy to get hold of. This for one: every

child shall go half the day to school. I will not have them on any

other understanding. There are few adult scholars at present; their

number will grow. What shall I do with the hall on the north side

of the school-room?'

'The people work from morning to night, every day?'

'From seven to seven. But come, you must not stand here any

longer looking at carpenters. Come on to Gyda's. I want you to see

one or two cottages on the way.'

Empty dwellings. One was a little frame house; the other was quite

a pretty, low, gray stone cottage. Neatly finished, provided with

snug little kitchens and small sheds adjoining for wood; the paling

fence, unpainted yet, enclosing a bare space that might one day be

a garden.

'Here will be work for you, Hazel, you see. All these garden plots

must have something in them; and as soon as may be I want to see

roses and vines creeping over these walls. But we must go slowly.

You and I cannot do it. The only way for permanent results, is to

rouse the desire, excite the ambition, and then supply the means.

Outside the gardens I mean to plant trees, of hardy shade kinds;

but I have not got so far as that yet.'

'I think you have done a great deal,' said Hazel. 'No wonder you

were too busy—How do you expect to rouse the desire, Mr. Rollo?

By a specimen cottage?—or by tea-drinkings at Chickaree?'

He smiled and said 'they were far from that yet.' 'But desires grow,'

he added, 'and one thing leads to another. Now come away.'