It was a cool evening in early summer, full of the leisurely peace of
the country. The women were out of doors after much perspiring work
within. It was too early for the shadows, yet a sensible relief to the
day's ardour, which one was disposed to linger and enjoy, was evident in
the tranquil atmosphere, and on the relaxed faces of those who lingered
about the doors of the cottages, or turned the bleaching clothes on the
hedges. Mrs Hankworth, in a fashionable bonnet and dark green dress,
which proclaimed a ceremonial visit, was driving beside her husband in a
light yellow trap, in the unusual direction of Anne Hilton's cottage.
Her husband, with his eyes on the road, suddenly pulled up the horse.
"Now, where did you two come from?" he ejaculated, jumping from the trap
and examining the backs of two enormous sows, who were munching and
rooting in foreign ground with great satisfaction. At the sight of their
enemy, a man, they began that lumbering but nimble trot, by which their
tribe elude and disregard anything disagreeable.
"You better get up again," said Mrs Hankworth. "We'll keep up to them
and perhaps turn 'em in somewhere. Miss Hilton's the nearest."
"I don't recognise 'em," said the farmer, springing up with agility and
driving the horse carefully after the sows. "Some one must have bought
them yesterday. We can call at one or two places on the way back and
inquire. There's William Crowther," he added, standing up in the
trap--"William!" he shouted, "do you see them sows? Stop 'em at Anne
Hilton's sty. I don't know whose they are."
"I'll give them a little exercise!" shouted William, setting off in
pursuit. Anne Hilton looked out from her door to see the farmer standing
up to bar the road backwards, and shouting directions to William, while
he at the other side dodged one sow after the other, and Mrs Hankworth
sat back laughing with enjoyment.
Anne ran to open the yard-gate, and, with management, the sows saw no
other opening and ran in at a trot, scattering the squealing hens as
they did so.
"Of all the knowing things!" said Mrs Hankworth.
"Well, Miss Hilton, we're bringing you two sows and ourselves to visit
you!" said the farmer. "First a baby and then two sows! You'll keep a
foundling home very soon."
He jumped out, and his wife came slowly over the wheel.
"Somebody'll be sending out to inquire for them soon," said Anne. "I'm
very pleased to see you, Mrs Hankworth."
"We came to say we'd send you milk for the baby every day," said Mrs
Hankworth, entering the kitchen. "You'll want yours for the butter."
"It's very kind of you," said Anne. "But he'll want a good deal."
"We've got seventy-five cows, you know," said Mrs Hankworth, with a
contented laugh. "He'll not make much difference among 'em. Where is he?
Bless him," she said, as she saw the baby staring at her from the wide
wooden chair, in which he was tied.
"A fine baby," said the farmer with an ultimate tone.
"He _is_ a nice one!" said his wife. "I _must_ take him," she said,
picking up the baby and turning him face downwards over her arm while
she seated herself. She spread open her knees and laid him, docile to
her practised handling, across them. Anne watched her with the air of
one taking a lesson.
"Did you have much trouble to get him?" asked Mrs Hankworth.
"No, very little," said Anne. "There were some papers to sign, and one
or two other things, but I believe they're generally glad to board out
children if they can."
"Well, he's a healthy child. Oh! I don't know anything that made me so
full as to hear that poor girl had slipped away like that. I didn't get
over it for some days. You remember the last time I saw you, I was
intending to go and see her."
"Yes, we were all making plans," said Anne.
"Here's Mrs Crowther," said the farmer. "Come to see the baby, too, I
expect. I'll just go and see how the sows is doing," he said,
approaching the door.
"Well, Mr and Mrs Hankworth, I didn't expect to see you here," said Mrs
Crowther, coming in. "I came to see how the baby was getting on. Eh, how
they _do_ get hold of you, don't they, little things. I _must_ have him
a minute," she said, taking him from Mrs Hankworth's knee. "No, you're
not the first baby I've had hold of," she added to the little creature,
who twisted about with protesting noises. She smacked its soft thighs,
and held its warm head against her cheek. "I'm right down silly over a
baby!" she exclaimed, laying it back on Mrs Hankworth's knee.
"We can't have any more of our own," said the latter, "we have to make
the best of other people's."
Anne took a tissue-paper parcel from the shelf, and opening it, showed a
blue cashmere smock with a ribbon.
"I was so pleased," she said. "Mrs Phillipson's eldest girl that's to be
married next month brought it in yesterday. It shows how you misjudge
people. When I went to see them, they seemed so hard upon poor Jane. But
she brought that pretty frock she'd made herself for the baby. She's a
good-looking girl, and she'll make a good wife."
"You think on these things at such a time," said Mrs Hankworth. "All
kinds o' little things you never thought of before come into your mind
when you're going to be married. But it was nice of her. I shall think
better of that girl after this."
"That sounds like Mary," said Anne, looking round the open door. "Yes it
is. Come in, Mary. You'll find some friends here."
Mrs Hankworth laughed uproariously. "The baby's holding a reception,"
she said, her huge form shaking.
"It's Mrs Hankworth, I know," said Mary.
"And Mrs Crowther," interposed the latter herself; "we're making sillies
of ourselves over the baby. Here, sit down and take him, Mary."
She set Mary in the chair which she had vacated, and laid the baby on
her knees carefully placing the blind woman's hands over the little
body.
"There's not much of him," said Mary. "What does he like? This?" And
with her hands spread upon the child, she moved her knees backwards and
forwards, clicking her heels on the floor.
"I could soon do it," she said, with a satisfied chuckle.
"I'm sure you could," said Anne.
"It was Peter Molesworth that told me you was here," said Mary, "so I
thought I'd come too."
"Whatever _do_ you think that Peter Molesworth came out with in the
class the other day?" said Mrs Hankworth. "We was having as nice a
meeting as you could wish, and then Peter gets up to give his
experience. He says, 'I thank the Lord I've got peace in my home and a
praying mother' (she's not much o' that, I thought to myself); and then
he went on, 'You know, when I think of the troubles of others in serving
Christ, I cannot bear. There's a poor woman I know,' he says, 'that's
trying to serve Christ, and whenever she kneels down to say her prayers,
her husband begins to tickle her feet.' Did you ever hear of anybody
coming out with such a thing before? 'I think this door wants oiling,
Mrs Hankworth,' he says to me as we was going out. 'Nay, Peter,' I says,
'it's _thee_ that wants oiling.' 'Why, Mrs Hankworth, what's the
matter?' he says. 'Whatever made you come out with such a thing in the
meeting,' I says. 'Why, what was wrong with it?' he says. 'Oh, well!' I
says, 'if you don't know yourself, _I_ can't tell you,' I says. He's a
bright one is Peter Molesworth."
"Are you ready, Mother?" shouted Mr Hankworth, putting his head in the
door. "John Unsworth thinks the sows belongs to Mr Phillipson. He saw
him bringing some home last night. We can take him on the way home."
"I'm coming," said Mrs Hankworth, rising slowly. "If there's anything
you need, any advice or that, I'll be very pleased to give it you. Let
me give him a kiss." "You're a beauty, that's what you are," she said,
kissing the baby and giving it back to Mary.
"I must go too," said Mrs Crowther. "I'll send down some old flannel
to-morrow, Anne. One of my girls'll come in and help you sometimes. It's
well they should get used to a baby."
"She'll not be able to stop away herself," said Mrs Hankworth, shrewdly,
and laughing together, both women went out, disputing amiably as to
whether Mrs Crowther would take a seat in the trap and be driven as far
as the cross roads.
The blind woman was feeling carefully the downy head of the baby.
"He's as soft as a kitten," she said. "I could spare several eggs a week
out of the basket," she added, "if they'd be any use. I don't know much
about babies. My brother was bigger than me when we was at home, and, of
course, since then I've not had much to do with children."
Anne watched the two so helpless and confident. Mary rocked her knees
steadily, and the child's head lay contentedly.
"I believe you've put him to sleep," said Anne. "Shall I put him in the
cradle?"
"No, let me have him," said Mary, "I've never nursed a baby before."