tiillllliiillililiiii in I nil i mini IN iniin n in im
 
 233
 
 r-i. Or <L> r- f \ v 
 
 Master of 
 Fat . 
 
 By 
 
 AMELIA E. BARR 
 
 New York 
 Dodd, Mead & Company
 
 P 
 
 
 Copyright 1888 
 
 by 
 DODD, MEAD & COMPANY
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. THE OWNER OF BEVIN MILL, - i 
 CHAPTER II. JOE, - 17 
 CHAPTER III. A GREAT CHANGE, - 33 
 CHAPTER IV. THUS RUNS THE WORLD AWAY, 49 
 CHAPTER V. JOE PLEASES HIS FATHER, - 67 
 CHAPTER VI. MASTER AND MISTRESS OF BRAD 
 LEY, - 8 1 
 CHAPTER VII. THINGS THAT TROUBLE, - 97 
 CHAPTER VIII. LIFE AT BRADLEY COURT, - 114 
 CHAPTER IX. JOE S FORTHPUT, - - 129 
 CHAPTER X. EDITH S HARD BLOW, - - 145 
 CHAPTER XI. EDITH WINS TWO VICTORIES, 161 
 CHAPTER XII. AT BRADLEY, - - 181 
 CHAPTER XIII. JOE RISES IN ESTEEM, - 199 
 CHAPTER XIV. CALUMNY, - - 217 
 CHAPTER XV. AMOS MAKES MORNING CALLS, 233 
 CHAPTER XVI. JOE HAS A SURPRISE, 252 
 CHAPTER XVII. AMOS MAKES EDITH A PRO 
 POSAL, - - 265 
 CHAPTER XVIII. AMOS BRAITHWAITE AND SON, 279
 
 MASTER OF HIS FATE 
 
 A TALE OF THE WEST RIDING. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE OWNER OF BEVIN MILL. 
 
 The day was made 
 
 To number out the hours of busy men ; 
 Let them be busy still, and still be wretched, 
 And take their fill of anxious drudging day. 
 
 DRYDIN. 
 
 So sullenly addicted still 
 To his one principle, his will, 
 That whatsoe er it chanced to prove, 
 No force of argument could move ; 
 For obstinacy s ne er so stiff 
 
 As when tis in a wrong belief. 
 
 HUDIBRAS. 
 
 THE tree God plants no wind hurts. It is 
 shaken by tempests and drenched with 
 rains. The dew and the sunshine nourish it. 
 It grows to fair proportions, and brings forth 
 fruit in its season. So also is the man whom 
 God makes. He is chastened by sorrow. He
 
 2 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 has the discipline of patience and of disappoint 
 ment. He has the comforts of love and the 
 sweet surprises of godsends. All the capabil 
 ities of his nature are drawn out and perfected. 
 He turns his face to the sunshine, and is gra 
 cious and blessed in all his ways. 
 
 The self-made man, as the word is generally 
 understood, is different. He has built up a 
 great business, but he has neglected himself. 
 He has made beautiful his dwelling, but for 
 gotten to ennoble the man who is to inhabit 
 the splendid rooms. He is stunted in all his 
 senses but those necessary for making money. 
 His nature remains incomplete, and there is 
 small hope of any grander development, be 
 cause he is perfectly satisfied with his own 
 work. 
 
 Sooner or later, however, if God be merciful 
 to them, these architects of a special manhood 
 find out the magnitude of their limitations. 
 Reluctantly they are forced to admit that, 
 though they control money, they can not con 
 trol things not to be bought with money, love, 
 respect, and obedience. They discover that 
 the honor of the market-place does not include 
 that far more impartial judgment of their own
 
 THE OWNER OF BEVIN MILL. 3 
 
 households, where they are weighed in a truer 
 balance, and found often to be grievously 
 wanting. 
 
 Amos Braithwaite was a self-made man, and 
 he asserted the circumstance whenever he could 
 with a consequential satisfaction. Every one 
 who knew him, and many who did not know 
 him, had heard the little bluster of affected 
 humility in which he was wont to complacently 
 state his own case. 
 
 " I weren t born wi a silver spoon i my 
 mouth, not I ! When I wer a lad I sell d 
 papers i Bradford Market, and I m proud of it 
 to-day, I am that ! I d no father or mother to 
 advise me, and I niver hed a day s schooling ; 
 but I wer determined to git on, and I did git 
 on. All I know I learn d mysen. All t money 
 I hev I made mysen. And look at me now f 
 There s many a swell as thinks himsen summat 
 extra wi his fine schooling as I could buy out 
 and out to-day. And thou knows it s so, eh, 
 Martha?" 
 
 He was delivering his favorite oration to his 
 sister-in-law, Miss Martha Thrale, a shrewd, 
 handsome Yorkshire woman, who had man- 
 aeed his household affairs ever since the death
 
 4 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 of her sister, nearly twenty years previous. 
 She was quite familiar with it in all its vari 
 ations, yet when he said, " And look at me 
 now! " she lifted her eyes a moment from her 
 knitting and looked at him. 
 
 What she saw was a tall, stout man with a 
 head whose chief strength and mass was in the 
 hinder part, a man strong, rough, elemental, 
 with a firm will, a choleric temperament, and a 
 great energy for self-service. His dexterity of 
 mind and acuteness of judgment were indica 
 ted, not only by his keen gray eyes, but by the 
 way in which their lids were drawn horizon 
 tally over them. Still, though the large cor 
 neas gave an animal expression to the face, the 
 whole head indicated nobler possibilities of 
 character, for the mid-region was well arched, 
 and it was not unlikely that, under favorable 
 circumstances, feeling would rule intellect, and 
 the calculating selfish element vanish before an 
 earnest a<nd fervent affection 
 
 He stood upon the handsome Hearthrug with 
 his legs planted well apart, as firm on the 
 broad basis of his self-complacency as the pyra 
 mids on the desert ; and his hands were clasped 
 beneath his own coat-tails. This coat was of
 
 THE OWNER OF BEV1N MILL. 5 
 
 cloth of his own manufacture, good, substan 
 tial cloth, made in a manner as uncompromis 
 ing and unfashionable as its wearer. A stolid, 
 solid, upright, downright man, with plenty of 
 sinew and bone to carry out whatever his 
 mind planned or his will determined. 
 
 " And look at me now ! " 
 
 So Martha Thrale looked at him for a 
 moment ere she answered : " Some folks do 
 think as thou hest done varry well to thysen, 
 Amos." 
 
 " So I hev. Varry well, indeed ! I hev niver 
 wanted either friends or enemies ; and I ll tell 
 thee what, Martha, one sort hes happen helped 
 me, just as much as t other sort. I ve niver 
 counted friends and I ve never feared enemies. 
 And I sud like our Joe to do just as I hev done, 
 and to be just such a man as his father is." 
 
 " I sud think thou would like to bring up a 
 son as could show there could be somebody a 
 bit better than thee." 
 
 Amos looked angrily at her. He had often 
 said that " Martha Thrale wasn t like t rest o 
 women folk, made o wax, or some such stuff; " 
 and he saw and understood the settled look 
 upon her large, calm face.
 
 6 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 "So our Joe hes been trying to get round 
 thee, hes he ? Sure-ly to goodness, thou isn t 
 going to help t lad in his folly ! As ta never 
 did such a thing before, I m surprised as thou 
 sud do it now ; I am that, Martha! " 
 
 " Thou hesn t reckoned up our Joe correctly. 
 There is a deal in Joe that niver was in thee, 
 Amos." 
 
 " I sud hope not. Now, then, hear what I 
 hev to say. I ll hev none o his rubbishy, ro 
 mancing books. He s a deal better among t 
 wool-bags than spoiling good paper wi bad 
 poetry. There s all t poetry anybody need 
 hev in that Wesleyan hymn-book o thine. I 
 know our Joe, and I know there is no more 
 poetry in his head than there is in Bradshaw s 
 Railway Guide. / // not hev it there anyhow ! 
 Let him stick to t mill. I reckon nowt o a 
 man that talks against what brings in good 
 money. It s mean as mean can be. Thou 
 knows that." 
 
 "I think our Joe sud hev a chance to follow 
 out his own inclinations. Ivery bird flies best 
 with its awn feathers." 
 
 "Joe hesn t got any feathers of his awn. 
 He ll hev to come to me for t ways and means
 
 THE OWNER OF BE FIN MILL. 7 
 
 to do his flying. But I tak notice that young 
 fellows in these days can allays read their title 
 clear to whativer t old man hes that takes their 
 fancy." 
 
 " Most fathers would be proud of a fine lad 
 like our Joe. In t way of study, nothing beats 
 him. He is all for learning t French language 
 now, and he s found out somebody that can 
 teach him how to talk it, and help him a bit 
 with his violin beside. Joe tak s to music like 
 a bird to its song. He does that, Amos." 
 
 " Whativer are we getting to, Martha ? Thou 
 fair caps me ! I ll hev no French and fiddling 
 in my house ; mind that now ! French indeed ! 
 I wonder to goodness who educates them foreign 
 creatures ? I could not mak sense o a word 
 the man spoke when I met him wi Joe." 
 
 " And he didn t understand thee, I ll be 
 bound." 
 
 " I speak good Yorkshire, and that s the best 
 o good English going. Joe s mother wer 
 allays reading poetry. It s bad for a lad when 
 he has hed a mother given to poetry and non 
 sense. T lad might hev done varry well but 
 for her heving a bee in her bonnet." 
 
 " I think thou hed better say nothing at a 1
 
 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 of Joe s mother, Amos. Thou knew varry 
 little about her. That Avas thy loss, not hers." 
 
 " I sud think I know summat about my awn 
 wife, Martha." 
 
 " Thou knew nothing of her. How could 
 ta ? Thou wert that throng- making money that 
 thy home was nobbut a place to eat and sleep 
 in, while t engine stopped. I ll say this for my 
 sister Ann : if ta hed known her thou would 
 hev thought more of her." 
 
 " We wer speaking o Joe, and not of thy 
 sister Ann. And as for Joe Braithwaite, I ll 
 hev no high-flown ideas put into his head by a 
 lot o women and schoolmasters. It is more 
 than a bit thy fault, and thou knows it, Martha. 
 Before t lad hed his first breeches on, thou 
 wert telling him all sorts o lies about fairy folk : 
 thet s so ! " and Amos looked reproachfully into 
 Martha s face. 
 
 The look upon that face w as something 
 new to him. It meant rebellion on his own 
 hearthstone. In twenty years he had seen 
 nothing like it. If a thunderbolt had fallen at 
 his feet it could scarcely have amazed him 
 more. There was a spirit of revolt in Martha s 
 very silence. The click of her knitting-needles
 
 THE OWNER OF BE VIA 7 MILL. 9 
 
 seemed to be contradicting him, and he felt 
 the necessity of instantly asserting himself. 
 
 Under such circumstances he naturally took 
 his stand upon his success in business. That 
 was a subject a woman ought naturally to feel 
 snubbed by. She could not emulate him. 
 And she could not criticise him, at least with 
 any show of propriety or justice. So he added 
 with a fine tolerance, " Thou lies been too soft 
 wi Joe. Thet is a woman s way. But it s a 
 wrong. When Joe puts himsen rayther too 
 for ard, I wonder thou didn t say a few words 
 that would hev taken t sharp edge off his fine 
 talk. Nobody can do that better than thee. 
 Thou sud hev said " 
 
 "What, sud I hev said? 
 
 " Look at thy father, Joe ! See what a big 
 fortune he hes made ! 
 
 " One would think, Amos, that thou hed done 
 some great and good action in making thy awn 
 fortune. Laying up money for thysen ! Does 
 ta think that entitles thee to t love and grati 
 tude of thy fellow-creatures? I don t believe 
 they think so, my lad." 
 
 " Don t thee try to be sarcastic wi me, Mar 
 tha. I don t mind thy words. I hev made
 
 10 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 nearly half a million o pounds. What is a few 
 words to figures like them, eh?" 
 
 " Half a million o pounds ! they are noth 
 ing if thou puts them against real goodness and 
 knowledge." 
 
 "Nothing!" gasped Amos; then, with the 
 contempt such a statement, in his opinion, de 
 served, he answered : " Thou art talking for 
 talking s sake. Women are a foolish lot. Is 
 there aught i this world better than honestly 
 earned money? " 
 
 " Ay, there is ; and what s more, t Bible up 
 holds me in saying so. For it makes out that 
 wisdom is better than gold, and knowledge 
 better than rubies and fine gold." 
 
 " I niver heard such things." 
 
 "How could ta hear them? Thou niver 
 goes to church or to chapel, and thou niver 
 reads aught but t newspapers. If anybody 
 sud quote t New Testament to thee it would 
 be so unlike any o thy notions that thou would 
 be sure to think t words were written by some 
 one as wanted to turn t world upside down 
 with their foolishness." 
 
 " Say no more, Martha ; say no more ! It s 
 fair nonsense arguing wi women. T long and
 
 THE OWNER OF BEVIN MILL. II 
 
 t short of it is, I ll hev Joe think as I think, 
 and do as I do. Tell him that." 
 
 "Tell him thysen." 
 
 "Ay, I will." 
 
 Then he left the room with an air of injury 
 that for a few moments half imposed upon 
 Martha. She had to have a conversation with 
 her own conscience before she felt quite at ease 
 again about her position. Siding with a son 
 who was inclined to set himself up against the 
 wishes of his father was no light thing in her 
 eyes, and only to be justified by circumstances 
 indisputably warranting such opposition. 
 
 She thought such circumstances existed, and 
 whether her judgment was right or wrong, she 
 was, at least, actuated by the most sincere re 
 gard for the highest interests of her nephew. 
 Her affection for him was almost maternal in 
 character, for since the death of his mother, in 
 his third year, she had been a mother to him. 
 She loved him wisely and well, and beyond this 
 tie there was a sisterly bond that neither the 
 changes of life nor the great change of death 
 had been able to weaken. Joe was not only 
 Joe, he was also " Sister Ann s dear bairn." 
 And Sister Ann was a memory to Martha, hold-
 
 12 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 ing all other memories of their short, happy 
 youth together. 
 
 After Amos had left her in such high dud 
 geon she sat very still, remembering. Her 
 knitting dropped from her hands, her eyes 
 looked far beyond the dreary village, straggling 
 up to the park-gates. She saw the old rectory 
 among the low, curving hills. She was with 
 her sister in its pleasant rooms and garden. 
 She heard her voice filling the dim spaces of 
 the ancient church with the joyful Sabbath 
 psalms. She clasped her hand over their 
 father s grave. She recalled all their struggles 
 and privations together, until Ann married 
 Amos Braithwaite. What for? She would not 
 ask herself the question. She believed fully in 
 the purity and kindness of Ann s motives ; and 
 if her good intentions did not turn out well, 
 Ann was not to be blamed for the failure ; for 
 alas ! mistakes are punished in this life quite 
 irrespective of good intentions. 
 
 The marriage had not been a happy one ; and 
 after the birth of her child, Ann never rallied. 
 She was ill for three years, and then she went 
 quietly away one night, when all the household 
 were asleep. Amos was relieved by her depar-
 
 THE OWNER OF BEVIN MILL. 13 
 
 ture. He had outlived his fancy for the frail 
 beauty, and the expense and trouble of her 
 long sickness had been a great trial to him. 
 Yet, after it was over, he forgave the poof 
 woman fully, in consideration of, " t fine little 
 lad she hed left him." 
 
 On this child all his hopes settled themselves. 
 It was his ambition to make money, and to buy 
 land, and to call the land after his own name. 
 Therefore, a son to carry on his name was of 
 the first importance to his project. Martha 
 thought of all these things, but she did not 
 think of them as Amos did. She looked on 
 Joe as an individual soul, and not as a link in a 
 family chain. She did not believe his welfare 
 ought to be sacrificed either for the plans of his 
 father or the good of a posterity as yet mythi 
 cal and uncertain. 
 
 She had made some solemn promises to her 
 sister regarding the boy, and she meant to 
 fulfil them if it were possible for her to do so. 
 " But there are so many ifs in all human calcu 
 lations," she thought; "and we are ready 
 enough to pick out t* varry worst we can find. 
 Deary me ! Human hearts are just nests o 1 
 fear. They are that !"
 
 14 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 Then she rose and put away her knitting, and 
 going to the window looked down at the great 
 mill in the valley. Excepting for its water 
 privileges, and its nearness to the chief wool 
 markets the situation of Market Bevin was not 
 desirable. No scenery in England could be 
 sadder or wilder than the bleak range of hills 
 girdling it on two sides, bare hills partitioned 
 into fields by leagues of stone walls, here and 
 there a dreary village where quarrymen lived, 
 here and there a desolate mansion standing for 
 lornly in the midst of fields that were not 
 green or pleasant looking. 
 
 Bevin Hall, the residence of Amos Braith- 
 waite, was a much finer place than the situation 
 warranted. It had been built centuries before 
 mills had been dreamt of. Then the lonely 
 mansions had been the homes of country 
 squires, and the whole valley a secluded agri 
 cultural locality. When the spinners began to 
 build mills on the banks of the stream, and the 
 quarrymen to break up the hill sides, then the 
 Bevins abandoned their old home, and Amos 
 bought the place at what he considered "a varry 
 low figure." 
 
 He did not dislike the sight of the smoking
 
 THE OWNER OF BEVIN MILL. 15 
 
 mill. He thought, when the hundreds of win- 
 dows in its five stories were all alight, it was a 
 really grand piece of architecture. It did not 
 trouble him that the agricultural inhabitants, 
 with their simple, old-fashioned manners and 
 customs, were obliged to make way for the 
 vivacious, alert, arrogant mill hands. He rather 
 liked matching his own tongue and his own ar 
 rogance against theirs. He had been an opera 
 tive, he knew all the resentment of labor, and 
 he often told himself " that there wasn t varry 
 much they could say, or do, he wasn t up to." 
 
 But the restless, disputatious life did not 
 seem to Martha Thrale a good life. She knew 
 how often Amos and his hands were in 
 open and very vigorously expressed dissent. 
 She knew that their good will was merely a 
 cessation of hostilities, and when Joe expressed 
 his dislike to the mill work, and to the mill it 
 self, with its stony yard, its black dust, its sul 
 phury clouds of smoke, its inky water, its loath 
 some smells of heated oil, soap-suds, and cess 
 pools, Martha was in sympathy with him, and 
 thought his reluctance a very reasonable one. 
 
 How Joe s own desires were to be gratified 
 she hardly knew ; and her thoughts at this
 
 1 6 MASTER OF HIS PATE. 
 
 hour brought her no nearer the solving of the 
 question than they had done many a time be 
 fore. But there was at least no great hurry. 
 Amos had talked in the same way for years. 
 There was nothing special in his attitude. She 
 did not reflect that as a rule tne great events of 
 life dawn with no rro-e note of preparation 
 than the sun rises.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 JOE. 
 
 Grief seldom joined with blooming youth is seen ; 
 Can sorrow be, where knowledge scarce has been ? 
 
 ROWE, 
 
 The world s a wood in which all lose their way, 
 Though by a different path each goes astray. 
 The world s a labyrinth, where unguided men 
 Walk up and down to find their weariness ; 
 No sooner have they measured with much toil 
 One crooked path, in hope to gain their freedom, 
 But it betrays them to a new affliction." 
 
 BEAUMONT. 
 
 JOE BRAITHWAITEwas a very handsome 
 young fellow, one of those fresh, blonde 
 Englishmen whose magnificent physique and 
 perfect health are a promissory note for any 
 amount of probable success. His figure was 
 tall and spare, his aspect strikingly winning and 
 manly, and a quick, undaunted spirit looked 
 out of his clear blue eyes.
 
 1 8 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 With a slightly poetic temperament, he in 
 herited also from his mother a love of elegant 
 surroundings and a disposition to take life 
 pleasantly. But such tastes were not domi 
 nant ; the gay, pleasure-loving young man had 
 in him the stuff of which heroes are made, indif 
 ference to pain, perfect self-reliance, indefatiga 
 ble perseverance, and a simple resolution, which, 
 when it was called into action, would march 
 straight forward through fire and water to its 
 goal. 
 
 He had been to various schools, and under 
 various teachers learned many things whose 
 very names suggested nothing to the unlettered 
 Amos. Indeed, the father had rather tolerated 
 than acquiesced in some of his son s studies; and, 
 perhaps with good reason, he declared that, as 
 regarded Joe s bringing up, " he had been bam 
 boozled by a parcel o women and school 
 masters." And yet, when Joe quoted Pliny or 
 Aristotle with an air of " that settles the ques 
 tion," or rolled out a couplet of musical, though 
 very likely imperfect Greek, as an illustration, 
 the old man had a certain sense of pride in his 
 clever son, although, feeling himself to be in a 
 dark and unknown territory, he answered
 
 JOE. 19 
 
 only with a doubtful and contemptuous 
 "Humph!" 
 
 In Joe s earliest childhood, the practical 
 father had given strict orders regarding " fairy 
 tales, and giants, and suchlike lies and non 
 sense." But to say that his aunt and nurse 
 constantly and strictly disobeyed these orders, 
 is only to say that they were women. And 
 one Sunday night, when Joe was seven years 
 old, he had been so completely dumfounded 
 and routed upon this very subject that it was 
 not at all remarkable he should prefer avoid 
 ing, for the future, any allusion to personages 
 o far out of his experience and knowledge. 
 
 It was a wet Sunday evening in spring ; 
 too wet to walk over his park and gardens, 
 very much too wet to permit Martha Thrale 
 and Joe the use of the fine carriage-horses to 
 carry them to the Wesleyan chapel a mile 
 away. He had slept all he could ; his ledger 
 was at the mill ; another meal was out of the 
 question for a couple of hours : so he bethought 
 himself of little Joe as a means of passing the 
 tedious time. 
 
 He found the boy at his aunt s side. She 
 was reading to him, and Joe s bright, hand-
 
 20 MASTER OF If IS FATE. 
 
 some face expressed nothing but delight and 
 wonder. Amos listened also for a few minutes. 
 It was a marvellous story of the killing of a 
 giant by a little lad with a sling and a stone. 
 In the father s opinion it was an altogether 
 improbable affray ; and he speedily interrupted 
 it, saying, with an angry decision, " Hev done, 
 Martha ! Hev done wi such nonsense ! Of 
 all t lies that iver were invented, that one is a 
 topper, I sud say." 
 
 " I d know what I was talking about, if I 
 was thee, Amos Braithwaite. I reckon to do 
 my duty by t little lad, and I m only teaching 
 him his Bible lesson." 
 
 Then she quietly opened the Holy Book and 
 placed before the disconcerted father the 
 objectionable history. He was troubled and 
 annoyed by the circumstance. Before this 
 untoward confirmation of his opinions, he had 
 had an impression that the Bible was a book 
 only suitable for chapels and churches and the 
 Sabbath day ; and after it, he was more than 
 ever convinced that there was more radical 
 incompatibility between it and the big book 
 vhich lay upon the high desk in the counting- 
 room of Bevin Mill.
 
 JOE. 
 
 21 
 
 When Joe began to go to school, Amos 
 soon found out that a self-made man is not at 
 all points a match for a self-willed boy. His 
 positive instructions to the schoolmaster had 
 been, " Solid reading, writing, arithmetic and 
 chemistry. None o* your rubbishy Latin and 
 Greek and poetry." But the school was not 
 in any measure dependent upon Amos Braith- 
 waite. It had a noble foundation, and the 
 master did not think it necessary to vary the 
 prescribed routine to meet the taste of one 
 patron. So Joe s inclinations towards poetry 
 and literature were fully encouraged, and he 
 took some prizes in the very studies which his 
 father had forbidden. 
 
 But this was almost a venial offence com 
 pared with the audacity of Joe s latest prop 
 osition, to bring a Frenchman into the very 
 parlors of Bevin Hall, in order that he might 
 learn to speak a language which Amos declared 
 " nobody could mak a word o sense of," and 
 which he always associated with every thing 
 that was immoral and extravagant, with foppery 
 and atheism and anarchy. 
 
 And now that Martha Thrale had actually 
 set herself against him, he felt that a crisis had
 
 22 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 come in the relationship between himself and 
 his son. It was just as well, he thought ; things 
 long undecided would now be brought to a 
 settlement. And Amos was glad of it; for, 
 though he expected trouble and opposition, he 
 was prepared to meet it with all the stubborn 
 will of a strong but narrow mind. 
 
 He was very fond of Joe, and, in an unac 
 knowledged way, very proud of him. Though 
 he would not have admitted it, he was also 
 vain of the young man s beauty and stylish air; 
 and whenever Joe strolled into his presence 
 with his thoroughly-at-ease, satisfied manner, 
 Amos always looked at him with a curious mix 
 ture of admiration and disapproval. 
 
 Hitherto there had been no serious disagree 
 ment between them, for Joe had shown no very 
 decided symptoms of rebellion. There had 
 certainly been one prolonged dispute about his 
 desire to go to Cambridge, and another equally 
 positive when he requested permission to travel 
 for two years ; but Amos had put his foot 
 firmly down on both requests, and that had 
 been the end of them. Joe had given in before, 
 and the self-confident father did not think he
 
 JOE. 23 
 
 would make any firmer stand about any other 
 disputed question. 
 
 Still, as he now meant to make his son a pro- 
 posal which was to decide all the future be 
 tween them, he was unusually nervous about 
 it, especially as he perceived that he would 
 have no support from Martha Thrale. He 
 delayed it from day to day with a vacillation 
 foreign to his character and humiliating to his 
 self-esteem. 
 
 One fine spring evening, as they sat at dinner 
 before the open windows, the moment of de 
 cision arrived. Neither had expected nor in 
 any special way provided for it at that hour. 
 It arose out of a circumstance and from a 
 remark which seemed irrelevant. Martha 
 Thrale was called from the table by some 
 unusual domestic event, and Joe s first remark 
 related to a pleasure tour which a friend of his 
 had in contemplation. 
 
 " For sure," answered Amos, " young Warps 
 is varry rich, and he can afford to fling his brass 
 and his time away among foreigners, if he has 
 no more sense than to do so. If a man reckons 
 to spend his life in pleasuring and laking, he 
 had best do it while he s young, for he won t
 
 24 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 get much out o such ways when he s old. So 
 I don t say Warps is wrong if that is what he 
 is after. But there s better jobs for a man to 
 do: there s good work, and makin something 
 of t gifts one hes for getting hold o a bit of 
 money " 
 
 " But you would make life a drama in tvo 
 acts, father, working and sleeping." 
 
 " I don t know what ta means by makin life 
 a drama. I d niver do it. I sud think it would 
 lead one into all sorts o bother. Young Warps, 
 and owd Warps, too, look over us a bit, 1 fancy; 
 but we can put as much brass down as any of 
 them, I dare say; ay, Joe, as any of them." 
 
 "Young Warps is a very good sort, I think." 
 
 " T owd man couldn t see me yesterday ; no, 
 not even with t help o his eye-glasses. He 
 looked as if he owned both sides of t street." 
 
 " They have had more than a little trouble 
 with their hands lately." 
 
 " Serve them right, too. They hev allays 
 got some fad on hand about lifting them up/ 
 and makin gentlemen and ladies of born hands. 
 When a cup is made o common pottery you 
 can t turn it into fine Darby china ; and it ll 
 tak a cleverer man than owd Warps to mak
 
 JOE. 25 
 
 gentlemen o his hands by persuading them to 
 read t poets." 
 
 " He subscribed $oo to the new reading- 
 room." 
 
 " Does ta think, Joe, I hevn t heard tell o 
 that ? Cwd Warps likes to show himsen his 
 better side out, and that is why he gave ^500; 
 but when all is reckoned up, he ll mebbe not 
 hev given as much as other folk. I gave ^100, 
 but best givers are them as hev to pinch them- 
 sens a bit to spare aught ; and what wi buying 
 wool, and paying wages, I hedn t a ^500 to 
 spare; I hedn t that. Keep your sitting, Joe." 
 Then he pushed the wine across the table, and 
 said, " Tak a glass with me, my lad. I am going 
 to mak thee a fine offer, and we ll drink to it." 
 
 Joe looked steadily at his father, and then 
 slowly filled his glass. There were a few mo- 
 ments of strained silence, then he asked, 
 
 "What is it, father?" 
 
 " I wer thinking that thou must hev hed 
 enough of learning by this time, and that hap- 
 pen thou would like to frame thysen to busi 
 ness." 
 
 " I am not likely ever to have enough of 
 learning, father. But I do think that I ought
 
 26 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 to be doing something like work. Why ! I am 
 nearly twenty-two years old." 
 
 "To be sure thou art! Varry well, then, 
 when will ta come to t mill ? There s a deal for 
 thee to get at thy finger-ends, for I d like thee 
 to know t business from A to Z." 
 
 " I was not thinking of the mill, father." 
 
 "Oh! Thou wasn t thinking of t mill. 
 What was ta thinking of, then ?" 
 
 " I was thinking of the law." 
 
 "Thou was thinking of the law, was ta? 
 Think away, my lad. But for a* thy thinking 
 thou art bound to take thy part in Market-Bev- 
 in Mill." 
 
 "I am not yet bound to any thing or to 
 any one, for that matter. I have made up my 
 mind to be a lawyer. I hate the sight of the 
 looms, and the men in their blue pinafores, and 
 the slatternly, down-at-heel women. I must do 
 some better work than that." 
 
 " I hope ta may ! I hope to goodness thou 
 may ! But I don t think thou will iver do as 
 good work as I hev done. Come, Joe ; come, 
 my lad ! Do thy duty by t business, and we 
 will varry soon hev t biggest mill and the 
 highest chimney i Wharfdale."
 
 JOE. 27 
 
 " I am sorry to disappoint you, father." 
 
 " Why-a ! I hev been thinking o takin 
 thee into t mill iver since I laid the first stone 
 of it, Joe. I hev thought for thee and worked 
 for thee iver since thou wert born. Thou must 
 go to t mill, or it will be t worse for thee. 
 Mind that, my lad ; for I am in downright 
 earnest." 
 
 " So am I, sir." 
 
 The threat had decided Joe. The proposal 
 had found him in a contradictious, self-willed 
 temper, and the half menace was just the thing 
 he would not stand. In the moment, without 
 thought, without any real inclination, he had 
 said he would be a lawyer, and now he was de 
 termined to stand to the statement, whatever 
 the result might be. 
 
 Both men became steadily more and more 
 positive and angry. Amos had risen and taken 
 his favorite position on the hearth-rug. Joe, 
 reclining in a large chair, picked his teeth, and 
 looked quite away from his irate father. One 
 would have supposed that all his interests were 
 connected with the lilacs and laburnums blow 
 ing at the open window. 
 
 "I sail make thee one more offer," said
 
 *S MASTER ~)F HIS FATE. 
 
 Amos, at length; if thou refuses it I sail 
 niver, niver moro Onsider thee to hev part or 
 lot in my mill. Next Monday come to t mill. 
 I ll give the ^500 a year, and if all is as it 
 should be, at the end of three years I ll give 
 thee a sixth interest. Then thou can marry 
 and make a man o thysen." 
 
 " You intend to be very good to me, father." 
 
 " I do that, Joe. Think well, my lad, afore 
 thou speaks. Thou knows well that I ll niver 
 go back on aily word I say." 
 
 " If I feiJ obliged to refuse your offer, father, 
 then " 
 
 "Then, I will give thee ^"5,000. Thou can 
 mak or mar with it, as suits thy fancy. That 
 is a I have to say." 
 
 " I will take the ^"5,000, father." 
 
 "Thou sail hev it to-morrow morning. 
 Don t ee think that I sail iver ask thee 
 again." 
 
 " Dear father ! " 
 
 " Nay-a, nay-a ! Thou needn t dear me now. 
 Yes, father, would have been more son-like, 
 and more to the purpose. I hev been a bit 
 soft about thee, but I can mend that I can 
 mend that."
 
 JOE. 29 
 
 " Every man has a right, father, to choose 
 his own life-work." 
 
 " Nowt of t sort ! Them as does it mostly 
 mak s a pretty mess o their life-work. Thy 
 work is ready at thy hands. It is flying in t* 
 face of Providence to think thou can lay any 
 better out for thysen." 
 
 "A man finds out things by experience by 
 trying." 
 
 " If ta likes that way, tak it. But remem 
 ber this : if ta thinks of heving thy awn way, 
 until ivery thing is at sixes and sevens wi thee, 
 and then thinks thou can turn round and tak 
 my way, thou will find thysen a bit mistaken." 
 
 " I shall never ask you for any thing but what 
 you choose to give me, father." 
 
 " I told thee I would give thee 5,000. Thou 
 can do whativer ta likes with it." 
 
 " I shall enter myself to read with Perkins." 
 
 " Do as ta likes ; do as ta likes. What ta 
 does will be naught to me." 
 
 Then Amos threw his red bandanna handker 
 chief over his head, settled himself in his chair, 
 and in a few minutes seemed to be asleep. 
 But sleep was far from him. Tears come as 
 hard as blood from some men, and Amos was
 
 3 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 of this class. Yet great, bitter tears rolled 
 slowly down his rugged face that evening, tears 
 which the bandanna hid, but which no human 
 hand could wipe away. Never before in all 
 his struggling, successful life had he felt such 
 sharp sorrow, such keen disappointment. For 
 he had not realized until that hour how dear 
 his son was to him, how inextricably bound 
 up in all his hopes and happiness. 
 
 And he had said words he never could un 
 say. Indeed, the possibility of unsaying them 
 never presented itself to him. It might kill 
 him to "stick up " to the threat he had made ; 
 all the same, he knew that he should stand to 
 every letter of it. And he expected nothing 
 less from Joe. He would almost have despised 
 him if he had returned and asked to be allowed 
 to accept his offer. To back out of a position 
 once taken is a thing few Yorkshiremen can 
 contemplate, and both father and son under 
 stood that the few positive words said that 
 night had separated their paths forever. 
 
 Joe went at once to his aunt, and told her 
 of his interview and its result. She did not 
 fully sympathize with him. 
 
 " Thou hes been in too big a hurry, Joe,"
 
 JOE. 31 
 
 she said. " If thou hed taken a more round 
 about road to thy awn way, thou would hev 
 gotten it all the sooner, lad, thou would that. 
 Now, then, thou hes flung away about half a 
 million o money, what is ta going to do with 
 thy $,ooo? Thou, that hes hed every thing 
 to come and tak from." 
 
 " I never had more than 300 a year." 
 " Hey ! but thou counts things varry care 
 lessly. Thou hed 300 a year for pocket- 
 money, Joe, only for pocket money. Thou 
 wilt hev to find thy awn bed and board now. 
 Thou wilt hev to pay thy own tailor s bills, 
 and many another bill beside. And thou knows 
 well, Joe, that I hevn t t ways and t means to 
 help thee much." 
 
 Joe was fond of luxuries, and this view of 
 the question had not presented itself before. 
 Yet it was evident he would have to leave his 
 father s house. He would have to take upon 
 himself the cares of life and living. The 
 thought sobered him considerably. He wished 
 in his heart that he had not been so ready to 
 fling away half a million of money; but he 
 kept his lips tightly drawn for fear he should 
 give utterance to the regretful thought.
 
 32 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 As he sat half-stupefied by this sudden 
 change in his fortunes, he looked gloomily 
 round his handsome rooms, and wondered how 
 much it would cost to rent others in any way 
 approaching them in comfort. Then he took 
 a piece of paper, and jotted down the out 
 standing bills in his name, and they made a 
 total which compelled him to realize the 
 amount of his expenditure as he had never 
 done before. Even taking into account the 
 natural hopefulness of youth, it must be ad 
 mitted that Joe Braithwaite did not spend a 
 much happier night than his father did.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A GREAT CHANGE. 
 
 Whose fortune is not fitted to his will, 
 Too great or little, is uneasy still. 
 
 Fortune is a goddess only to fools ; the wise are always 
 
 masters of their own. 
 
 DRYDEN. 
 
 The noisy markets of the law, 
 The camp of gowned war. 
 
 CoWLEY. 
 
 AMOS and his son met in the morning with 
 more ceremony than Joe intended or 
 desired. In fact, there was both sorrow and 
 some thoughts of surrender in his heart when 
 he said, "Good-morning, father." 
 
 " Good-morning, sir. Take a cup o coffee, 
 and then we will finish that bit o business we 
 began last night." 
 
 The cool, civil greeting hurt Joe far worse 
 than either angry reproaches or angry silence 
 could have done. Not once during the meal
 
 34 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 did he utter the young man s familiar name. 
 It was no longer Joe, and the substitution of 
 the word sir was too marked to escape notice. 
 It was a very wretched meal, and soon over. 
 Then Amos took a cheque from his pocket, 
 and laying it down by Joe s side, said, " Tak 
 that bit o paper to Thornton. He ll give thee 
 its value in Bank o England notes." 
 
 " Thank you, father." 
 
 " Eh ! but thou would hev been welcomer to 
 a hundred times as much if ta would nobbut 
 hev stood by my side while I wer living, and 
 in my shoes when I wer dead. But when a 
 bird hes found out as one nest won t do for it, 
 happen it s right to mak itsen another. Good 
 bye, sir." 
 
 " Father ! Don t leave me in that way." 
 
 " Dal it, lad ! T way is good enough for t* 
 occasion. Ingratitude and disobedience seem 
 to be rooted in children, and what is bred in 
 them is none easy to get out. Well, well, 
 things being as they are, I may as well tak to 
 them at once." 
 
 Martha Thrale had not appeared at the 
 breakfast table. She had a sharp tongue, and 
 was ready to use it, and she feared to make bad
 
 A GREAT CHANGE. 35 
 
 worse by some inappropriate remark, which 
 would irritate her brother-in-law and call forth 
 Joe s championship. She hoped, if left to 
 themselves, some compromise would be arrived 
 at, or, at least, that the parting might be made 
 with a more kindly and hopeful tone for the 
 future. 
 
 And with that pitiful instinct of womanhood 
 which has learned to appeal to a man s lower 
 sensibilities, she had prepared with care the 
 breakfast dishes Amos particularly liked, had 
 seen that the room wore its pleasantest aspect, 
 and that every trifling circumstance should be 
 conducive to a mood of satisfaction. 
 
 Amos took no note of any of these small 
 attentions. Had one of them been neglected, 
 he would probably have called the whole house 
 to task for the omission ; but the comforts 
 ready to his hand he seemed to be unconscious 
 of. And Joe was too anxious to notice any 
 thing beyond his father s stubborn coldness and 
 his aunt s absence. There was also a feeling 
 in his heart that this was the last meal he would 
 ever eat in Bevin Hall, and that it was a very 
 unhappy one. 
 
 Amos left the table first. He took off his
 
 3 6 MASTER OF HIS FA7 E. 
 
 slippers, tossed them across the hearthrug, and 
 laced his mill boots with trembling but deliber. 
 ate hands. He had no more to say to Joe ; 
 and he seemed to feel his presence an annoy 
 ance. It was not difficult for Joe to be aware 
 of this sentiment, and the young man said, " I 
 am only waiting for Aunt Martha, father. I will 
 not trouble you any longer than is necessary." 
 
 " That is as it sud be. When two can t hit 
 on, why, then, t sooner they part t better for 
 t both o them." 
 
 Then he lifted his head, stamped his feet well 
 down into his boots, and taking the morning 
 paper from the table, turned to leave the room. 
 Joe intercepted him, and said, " Shake hands, 
 father, at any rate." 
 
 But he turned his back squarely on Joe s 
 offered hand. He would not see the tears in 
 his son s eyes or the anxiety on his face. He 
 hurried out of the room and the house, and 
 spoke to the waiting coachman in a voice that 
 made the man wonder what was coming next. 
 
 Martha understood his manner only too well. 
 She perceived at once that her little plans and 
 hopes were a failure. As soon as Amos was 
 clear of the house she went to her nephew,
 
 A GREAT CHANGE. 37 
 
 though she was not pleased with him for the 
 hurry and decision of the attitude he had taken. 
 Why had he not waited a little, compromised 
 a little, given up a little, as a son should have 
 done to a good father ? 
 
 But she was determined to stand by Joe 
 right or wrong, she meant to stand by him. 
 Her love for the lad, and her promise to her 
 sister, included all the devotion she understood 
 by " standing with " any person or principle. 
 And Joe very soon made her see things very 
 much as he saw them. She looked into the 
 young fellow s handsome face and tearful eyes, 
 and " wondered however his father could bide 
 to turn his back on such a son." She thought 
 his refusal to shake hands with Joe " a shame 
 ful bit o pride and hard-hearted cruelty." She 
 came very speedily to the opinion that " Amos 
 had no right to offer up his son s life, as well as 
 his own, to the welfare of Bevin Mill, a big, 
 smoking monster as it is ! " She added, angrily, 
 " Wife and child might feed t fires that keep 
 it going rather than he d see it stop. Joe, my 
 lad, thou art right in t main, and I ll stand up 
 for thee through thick and thin. Whatever is 
 ta going- to do now? "
 
 3 8 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 " I shall take some rooms in Market-Bevin, 
 and read law with Perkins." 
 
 " Varry good, if Perkins will have thee." 
 
 "No fear of that, Aunt Martha. I shall 
 have a good bit of money to pay him, no doubt ; 
 but I should have to pay a stranger the same. 
 I am none fond of strangers." 
 
 " Thou might happen find thysen better off 
 among strangers." 
 
 " Market-Bevin is my native town. I won t 
 let father think he can turn me out of it as 
 well as out of his own house." 
 
 "Thy father is a big man in Market-Bevin. 
 Thou won t find it easy to live there if he sets 
 himself against it." 
 
 4 Why should he ? Studying law with Per 
 kins is not a crime, I hope." 
 
 " Mebbe not ; go and see Perkins. I think 
 he ll open thy eyes a bit. And then, if ta 
 wants rooms, go to Ann Guiseley s ; she hes 
 some to rent, and she ll cook thy victuals as 
 they sud be cooked, for I taught her mysen." 
 
 " When will you come and see me ? " 
 
 " I ll hev a talk wi thy father when he comes 
 from t mill to-night ; and I ll let thee knowalJ 
 about it as quick as iver I can."
 
 A GREAT CHANGE. 39 
 
 "Then I will go and talk with Perkins at 
 once; for I could see that father does not want 
 me here any longer. And this afternoon I 
 will remove my clothes and books and such 
 trifles as are really mine." 
 
 It might be thought that a young man among 
 life-long friends, and with .5,000 in his pock 
 ets, would find an open door into life. But 
 Joe s first experience was not a flattering one. 
 Perkins was in when he called, but he kept 
 Joe waiting in his outer office until every par 
 ticle of his enthusiasm and self-reliance seemed 
 to have evaporated. 
 
 And when he heard of the quarrel between 
 father and son he became very cold and cau 
 tious. It was by no means to his advantage 
 to put himself in opposition to Amos. The 
 master of Bevin Mill was of an extremely litig 
 ious temper, and had for many years been the 
 source of a considerable yearly income to Per 
 kins, and was likely to continue to be so. The 
 whole of Joe s $,ooo would not have bribed 
 him to find a vacancy in his office. He even 
 turned mentor, deprecated the step Joe had 
 taken, and advised him, as a friend, to go back 
 to his father and make his peace with him.
 
 4 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 " He is a bit masterful, ivery body knows 
 that, Joe," said Perkins, with a smile he meant 
 to be conciliatory ; " but if two men ride t same 
 horse, one must ride behind ; and that is thy 
 place, Joe." 
 
 " Unless I ride my own horse." 
 
 " For sure ! Only, thou will need a varry 
 strong nag to carry thee where ta wants to go. 
 Put up wi thy father a bit, lad. He hes got- 
 ten that used to telling folk they must do this, 
 and they mustn t do that, that he thinks t varry 
 stars sud do as he bids em." 
 
 " But, Perkins, I am a man now I have a 
 right to my own opinions." 
 
 "A pity on thee, Joe! If ta can t learn to 
 smile as t wind smiles, thou wilt varry soon 
 take cold, ay, varry soon take cold. Well, a 
 good-morning to thee. I m particular busy 
 at present." 
 
 Thus Joe got his first rebuff from a stranger. 
 He felt it hard to bear. Angry and humilia 
 ted, he talked over the interview with Aunt 
 Martha in no reasonable mood, and as Perkins 
 was also one of her aversions she gave Joe per 
 haps an unwise amount of sympathy. 
 
 Besides, it nearly broke her heart to see him
 
 A GRE A 7 CHANGE. 4 1 
 
 packing his trunks, " turned out o house and 
 home just because he couldn t frame himsen 
 to give his life to t mill." And when Joe 
 had really gone away, when his room was left 
 desolate and dismantled, she sat down in it, 
 and wept bitterly. 
 
 " I ll niver stop here any longer," she mut 
 tered. " T light of t house hes been put out. 
 It hes been slave and save, and worry and 
 fret and bide his tempers, and do his bid 
 ding for twenty-four years. That is about 
 long enough for any woman to put up wi him. 
 I promised Ann that I would stick by Joe, 
 and I am going to stick by Joe. I ll not hear 
 a word wrong of Joe v from anybody; and 
 Amos will find that out sooner than he thinks 
 for." 
 
 All day long her fits of crying were inter 
 rupted by such communions and conversations 
 with herself. Amos never suspected such a 
 state of feeling. On the contrary, he was cer 
 tain that he would at least have Martha Thrale s 
 sympathy ; for he knew that she had always 
 been opposed to any plan which would take 
 Joe permanently from under her care. 
 
 So he was glad when the day was over. It
 
 42 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 had been, perhaps, one of the most wretched 
 in his whole life. Among the clatter and clash 
 of a thousand looms he had not been able to 
 forget his sorrow, even though the hands had 
 given him unusual opportunities of relieving 
 his irritation. But the weariest day comes to 
 a close, and he stood, at last, outside the mill 
 gates, holding the big keys in his hand, and 
 vacantly watching the groups of chattering 
 lads and lasses strolling over the moor to their 
 homes. 
 
 A strange reluctance to go to his own home 
 was in his heart. He had no need to inquire 
 of it. He knew that he dreaded the lonely 
 dinner-table ; for Martha Thrale, in the way of 
 men s talk, he counted as nobody. He had 
 always conversed with Joe about politics, about 
 the local spinners and manufacturers, their 
 ways and doings, their trade and their solvency, 
 their gains and losses. He did not call it gos 
 sip, but it was the talk in which he delighted ; 
 for he considered that other people s business 
 might have a good deal to do with his own. 
 
 Several things had happened that day which, 
 in the usual course of events, he would have 
 enjoyed discussing with Joe. Then he recog-
 
 A GREAT CHANGE. 43 
 
 nized with fresh anger that not only in the 
 mill, but also in his home pleasures, Joe s diso 
 bedience was a grievous curtailment of his life. 
 So when he saw Martha s red and swollen eyes 
 he had a moment s regret even for her. 
 
 " No wonder thou hes been crying, lass," he 
 said ; " it s enough to mak thee cry. After a 
 thou hes done for him, too ! Whativer does ta 
 think of his ways ! It caps a I iver heard tell 
 of!" 
 
 She looked up at him with flashing eyes. 
 
 " I hev been thinking o thy conduct all day, 
 Amos ; and I m bound to say I think thee a 
 godless, heartless old man as iver was." 
 
 " Why-a ! Martha ! " 
 
 " I do. And thou needn t frown at me, for 
 it s true true as gospel. When did thou iver 
 love aught but gold ? Thou let my poor sister 
 die without one word o love or regret. I sent 
 to t mill and told thee she wer* dying one day, 
 and thou wert too busy to come. Thou niver 
 did aught to win thy poor boy s confidence and 
 respect, and now, to top ivery thing, thou turns 
 him out into t streets. Poor lad ! Poor Joe ! " 
 
 " Dost ta think that nobody suffers but thee 
 and Joe ? I hev some feelings too, I reckon."
 
 44 MASTER UF I-JIS FATE. 
 
 " Not thou ! And if ta hes, don t thee come 
 to me for comfort or sympathy. I hev none 
 for thee. Go to thy money bags. Thou hes 
 sacrificed ivery thing for them. And if ta does 
 not repent varry soon, thou wilt die wicked and 
 alone ! " 
 
 "Martha Thrale, will ta stop? Hes ta lost 
 thy senses, lass ? " 
 
 " No, I ll not stop till I hev lied my say ; 
 thou wilt die, Amos, without a kind hand to 
 close thy greedy old eyes, that hev niver looked 
 up to heaven, nor a bit higher than t top o 
 thy mill chimney. That is what I think o 
 thee, Amos Braithwaite." 
 
 " Thou isn t thy own sel at all, Martha. 
 Thou art sick, my lass." 
 
 " I am better ivery way than thou art ; and 
 when thou comes to die, thou lt be forced to 
 leave ivery penny o thy brass behind thee 
 ivery penny of it, Amos, and go where money 
 is of no account at all." 
 
 " Hev done wi thee, Martha. Hes ta lost 
 thy senses ? Whativer dost ta want ? 
 
 " I want thee to do summat to bring 
 back thy only child before it be past thy 
 doing."
 
 A GREAT CHANGE. 45 
 
 " I ll not lift a finger to bring him back. 
 Not I." 
 
 " Varry well then, thou wilt hev to tak t* 
 consequences." 
 
 "Ay, I ll tak them." 
 
 " My sister Ann 
 
 " Let thy sister Ann alone; and mind this? 
 I ll not hev Joe Braithwaite s name spoken in 
 my house by thee nor by any ither body. 
 And I ll marry again if I want to. And I ll 
 hev such friendship as is going these days. If 
 Joe Braithwaite can do without me, I can do 
 without him, varry well, indeed ! Why-a ! I hev 
 made half a million o money, or near by it, and 
 I hev made mysen a man." 
 
 " For sure thou hes, and a right mean job 
 thou hes made o thysen. When thou was at 
 it, thou might hev done it a bit better, I think. 
 There is varry little reason to crack up thy 
 cloth, if ta mak s it no better than thou hes 
 made thysen. And what is half-a-million o 
 money ? I ll warrant our Joe will mak more 
 than that before he is thy age." 
 
 " Thou wilt hev to leave my house if ta goes 
 on this-a-way ! " 
 
 " I am going to leave it. Does ta think I
 
 46 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 would stop wi thee, and poor Joe driven into 
 t street ? If I did, I would be a disgrace to 
 mysen, and to all t Thrales, living or dead. 
 And thou can pay me my wages this varry 
 hour if ta likes, for I m fain to get out o thy 
 house." 
 
 " Does ta mean what ta says? " 
 
 "Yes, I do that." 
 
 " Then get thee ready and go. I hevn t such 
 a thing as a favor to ask of thee." 
 
 So that evening, as Joe sat very disconso 
 lately in Ann Guiseley s best parlor, he was 
 joined by Martha Thrale. She came in about 
 eight o clock, flushed and excited, and still 
 trembling from her unusual interview with 
 Amos. This sudden and violent breaking of 
 the last tie between himself and his father 
 affected Joe very much. He was almost 
 inclined to blame Martha for her want of 
 patience. 
 
 " If you had stopped beside him, I should 
 have had some one to say a good word for me," 
 he said, reproachfully. 
 
 " Ay, lad ; but why, then, didn t thou stop 
 and say thy own good words ? " 
 
 " What shall I do, Aunt Martha ?
 
 A GREA T CHANGE. 47 
 
 " Here is Ann Guiseley coming wi" a cup o 
 tea for me, and much I need it ; while I drink 
 it I ll tell thee what I think. It s plain that 
 Josiah Perkins does not want thee." 
 
 " He is afraid to offend my father ; and I 
 daresay that every one in Market-Bevin will 
 feel very much as Perkins does." 
 
 " It s more than likely. Well, then, I am 
 going to Leeds. I shall take a house and 
 furnish it, and let such of t rooms as I don t 
 want. There s Halifax Brothers, lawyers, in 
 Leeds. I reckon as they hev as good a name 
 as old Perkins." 
 
 This suggestion pleased Joe very much. It 
 took him out of the immediate neighborhood 
 of his father, and yet was not far enough away 
 from his life centre to give him a feeling of 
 loneliness or remoteness. In all its phases the 
 plan was thoroughly discussed between them 
 that night, for Martha was a woman, not only 
 of rapid thought, but also of rapid action. 
 Within a month she had a very handsome 
 home in Leeds, and Joe had been properly 
 articled to Halifax Brothers, solicitors. 
 
 There was no law firm in the West Riding 
 that had a higher reputation in civil cases
 
 48 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 requiring a shrewd cleverness just touching 
 something that might be called by a less respec 
 table name. But if Amos Braithwaite had 
 wished his son to be a lawyer, then Halifax 
 Brothers would have been the ideal masters at 
 whose feet he would have desired him to sit. 
 
 When he heard from Perkins where Joe had 
 placed himself, he felt a real sentiment of 
 respect for his son. 
 
 " It s a move as might hev been expected o 
 my son," he said. " T lad is no fool ; and if 
 he wants to make his brass by ither folks 
 cheatry and quarrelling, there s nobody i York 
 shire that could better teach him to steal by 
 line and level than Tom Halifax can,"
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THUS RUNS THE WORLD AWAY. 
 
 in unseen hand makes all our moves ; 
 A.nd some are great, and some are small, 
 Nor kings, nor nations, nor united power, 
 One moment can retard an appointed hour. 
 
 COWLEY. 
 
 Or. what strange grounds we build our hopes and fears ! 
 JSjins life is all a mist, and in the dark 
 Our fortunes meet us. 
 
 DRYDEN. 
 
 IT was true that in his sudden determination 
 to become a lawyer, Joe had pleased Martha 
 as little as he had pleased his father. For if 
 Amos had wished to place his son among the 
 nobles of the Bradford House of Woollen Lords, 
 Martha had had her dreams of seeing her 
 nephew hold forth to admiring thousands from 
 a Wesleyan pulpit. 
 
 But Joe, as he grew to manhood, drew away 
 from the chapel, and affected to entirely dis 
 approve of Methodist faith and discipline.
 
 5 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 His disagreements with his aunt on this sub 
 ject had privately given Amos much amuse 
 ment. He enjoyed this form of Joe s dissent, 
 and was accustomed to say, " Joe, and ivery 
 other lad wi his common-senses, ought to hev 
 perfect freedom of opinion. That was t varry 
 spirit o dissent, and if Joe was a dissenter, 
 then he wanted him to know t ifs and t ands/ 
 and t ins and t outs of t chapel he went to. 
 He was a Church o England man himsen, but 
 he hed nowt to say against his son being a 
 dissenter if t lad liked following his aunt 
 instead o his father." 
 
 So no one could deny that in religious mat 
 ters Amos was grandly tolerant. It was in 
 business affairs he regarded dissent as an 
 unpardonable offence. Joe s right of private 
 judgment stopped at Bevin Mill. Martha s 
 views were essentially different. She thought 
 Joe s wealth and position gave him splendid 
 opportunities for honoring the cause and the 
 connection she loved. She did not think he 
 was doing right to evade the responsibilities of 
 his birth. But she was quite ready to support 
 him in his refusal to offer up his life to the 
 advancement of Bevin Mill.
 
 THUS RUNS THE WORLD A WAV. 5 1 
 
 Consequently, when he suddenly declared his 
 intention to be a lawyer, Amos and Martha, 
 both alike, suffered a keen disappointment, 
 only Amos allowed it to canker his whole life,, 
 without let or hindrance, or future hope, and 
 Martha accepted the inevitable, and tried to 
 make the best of it. For it is characteristic of 
 good women that when they cannot get what 
 they want they try to be pleased with what 
 they can get. 
 
 Martha did her best to accept the law and 
 Tom Halifax, though she by no means ap. 
 proved of Tom Halifax. Hitherto she had 
 only known him by report, as a shrewd lawyer, 
 whose legal fencing and clever repartees were 
 the popular after-dinner talk of farmers and 
 business men. But he took that sudden and 
 warm liking for Joe which middle-aged, gay 
 bachelors often take for handsome young men. 
 He was dissatisfied without his society, and 
 eager to initiate him into all his own 
 pleasures. 
 
 And the son of old Amos Braithwaite easily 
 made himself popular and welcome, especially 
 with mothers who had large families of pretty, 
 marriageable daughters. He was fine-looking
 
 52 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 and agreeable, the probable heir of half-a-miliion 
 of money, the favorite and friend of the pet 
 lawyer of the locality. It was likely enough 
 he would become a partner in the firm of 
 Halifax Brothers, and most of the women 
 believed that he would very speedily regain 
 his father s love. The men, however, or at 
 least such of them as knew Amos Braithwaite, 
 were less sanguine. 
 
 " He ll do nowt o t sort," said Ezra Dea- 
 conson to his wife as she was speaking of Joe s 
 attentions to her own pretty Mattie. " He ll 
 <do nowt o t sort. Thou doesn t know Amos 
 Braithwaite, or thou would never say it. I 
 hevn t seen him mysen for years and years, but 
 I can reckon him up pretty well. If he has 
 turned his back on his son, there s nothing but 
 t almighty hand o God could mak Amos face 
 about." 
 
 " I don t think that bad of him, Ezra. I hev 
 spoke with them as knows Braithwaite varry 
 well, and I hev heard em say, thet if you can 
 only get on t right side of him, you ll find a 
 kind heart below his stubborn will and gruff 
 speech." 
 
 " What by that, Martha? What by that ?
 
 THUS RUNS THE WORLD AWAY. 53 
 
 Did ta iver hear tell of any one who did get 
 on t right side o him? I ll warrant thou 
 hesn t. Thou keep our Mattie away from Joe 
 Braithwaite ; t little lass will hev too much 
 brass for that young man to handle." 
 
 " Deary me, Ezra ! Brass seems to come 
 into ivery thought, sweethearting and all. It is 
 a wonderful thing ! " 
 
 " Ay, it is; when a man knows how to use 
 it." 
 
 " Tom Halifax was saying that there is talk 
 of Amos Braithwaite marrying a young woman, 
 and going in for a bit o pleasure in his old 
 days." 
 
 " Amos is none such a fool. Amos knows 
 well enough he d hev no pleasure outside his 
 mill. Without t looms he d be about as mis 
 erable as a gambler would be without his cards. 
 I did hear summat about Lottie Greenwood and 
 Amos, but I set little by wedding talk, till I 
 see t wedding. Wherever womenfolk are con 
 cerned hearsay don t do for me ; I wouldn t 
 swear even to my awn eyesight." 
 
 The report, however, which coupled the 
 names of Amos Braithwaite and Lottie Green 
 wood was not without foundation. He had
 
 54 MASTED OF HIS FATE. 
 
 said he would marry again, and have such 
 friendship as was going. In the first smart of 
 his desertion, it seemed to him the surest 
 way to show Joe that he had cast him off for 
 ever, and also to insure such domestic comfort 
 as he wanted. 
 
 Now, if he had been looking for wool, he 
 would have known exactly where to go for the 
 quality he desired ; but he felt like a man in a 
 strange world when he wanted a wife. It hap 
 pened, however, that he had one day an occa 
 sion to call on Jonathan Greenwood about some 
 special hands, and as they sat talking Lottie 
 came into the room. She was fresh and rosy 
 from the breezy walk upon the moor, and her 
 bright black eyes, and fine color, and buxom 
 form attracted Amos. 
 
 He stayed to tea and played a game of whist 
 afterwards, and Lottie was his partner. When 
 he went home he was considerably under the 
 fascination of her bright eyes, and he kept say 
 ing to himself, " There will be no fear of a girl 
 like that turning sick on my hands, and mebbe 
 I might hev a bit o house-comfort wi her, if I 
 could only frame mysen to marry again." 
 
 For a month things progressed very favora-
 
 THUS RUNS THE WORLD AWAY. 55 
 
 bly. He had not asked Lottie to be his wife, 
 but he was on the way to do so one night when 
 he met an old acquaintance on the road. He 
 offered him a seat in his gig, and they fell into 
 conversation. Amos himself introduced the 
 subject of the Greenwoods, and the man, who 
 really knew nothing of his intention, went back 
 ward in his own memory to find a reason for 
 his evident desire to talk about them. Then 
 he remembered that Joe Braithwaite had once 
 been an admirer of Lottie, and he said, " Hap 
 pen thou art trying to put things right again 
 between thy Joe and Greenwood s pretty lass ?" 
 
 Amos looked sharply at the questioner, but 
 it was evident the remark had been made in 
 good faith, so he replied, with well-assumed in 
 difference, " Not I. I niver bothered mysen 
 wi Joe s love affairs ; I d hev had a lot to do 
 if I d tried thet job. So Joe were sweet on 
 Lottie Greenwood ? I niver heard tell o that." 
 
 " Joe s hed lots o sweethearts." 
 
 " I dare be bound he had ; but I niver heard 
 o Greenwood s daughter before." 
 
 * Oh, but you know, they wer* varry thick 
 once on a time. Folks thought they would 
 marry, but they didn t."
 
 56 MASTER OF HIS FATE, 
 
 " No, they didn t. That s so. Mebbe t lass 
 wasn t fond o Joe. Mebbe she jilted him. 
 Girls hev jilted finer fellows than Joe Braith- 
 waite, I ll warrant." 
 
 " It wer Joe s fault, I reckon. Lottie Green- 
 wood. was uncommon fondo him, I heard. And 
 t old folks wer varry set up with t idea. They 
 had parties and stirrings on a grand scale for 
 them. That showed how fain for i match they 
 wer ; for they are a scraping, careful pair, aren t 
 they ? " 
 
 "I fancy they are. But a love for brass is 
 common enough. I d like a bit more mysen. 
 If ta will step down now I ll bid thee good 
 night, for I m bound for Greenwoods, and I m 
 obliged to thee for telling me about my Joe 
 and Lottie. I shall look a bit closer at her to 
 night. Why ! she might hev been my daugh 
 ter?" And Amos laughed loudly, and whipped 
 up his mare like a man in a great hurry. 
 
 And the acquaintance whom he dropped 
 laughed too. " Old Cobwebs knows a about 
 wool," he muttered ; " but if he goes to both 
 ering wi women, he will find out varry quick 
 what an ignoramus he is." 
 
 Amos had already begun to suspect it. He
 
 THUS RUNS THE WORLD AWAY. 57 
 
 was congratulating himself for offering Hartley 
 a ride, when he entered Lottie s presence. 
 She happened to be quieter than usual, a little 
 sad and sentimental. It was a mood Amos 
 could not understand, and which had not 
 pleasant associations. Besides, it instantly 
 struck him that Lottie was perhaps fretting a 
 little for Joe. The thought made it very easy 
 for him to speak. 
 
 " Lottie," he said, " did ta iver know Joe 
 Braithwaite?" 
 
 " Yes, I knew him. He used to call here 
 often, once." 
 
 "Was he in love wi thee? 
 
 " Perhaps he was." 
 
 " Was ta in love with him ? " 
 
 " You shouldn t ask such questions." 
 
 " Ay, but I should," he was looking stead 
 ily at her. "Thou quarreled wi Joe, didn t 
 ta?" 
 
 " I think Joe behaved badly." 
 
 " I hev no doubt he did. It comes easy for 
 Joe to behave badly. And thou wanted to be 
 even with him, didn t ta ? If ta married me, 
 thou could pay him back, couldn t ta ? " 
 
 "Joe is a bad son. Joe is true to nobody."
 
 5 8 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 " Ay, he is a bad son. I told him I d marry 
 again, and I hed some thoughts o asking thee 
 to be my wife." 
 
 Lottie looked up, and then down, with a 
 most encouraging smile. 
 
 "But I hev changed my mind since I heard 
 tell o Joe. I don t want any cast-off sweet 
 heart of Joe s. So we ll be off wi that bargain. 
 There are plenty o matrimonial failures, with 
 out us makin another on t black list, I m 
 sure." 
 
 Naturally Lottie was at once indignant. 
 She told Amos very decidedly that she had 
 never had the slightest intention of marrying 
 him. And Amos was delighted to have her 
 look at the situation in that light. It put the 
 blame of the rupture just where it suited him 
 to have it. For, though he expected men to 
 twit him about wearing the willow, etc., he 
 knew that he could bear that accusation far 
 more comfortably than a legal inquiry, which 
 might cost him golden guineas to heal the hurt 
 his fickleness had given Miss Lottie. 
 
 This was the only experiment Amos made 
 looking toward domestic or social happiness. 
 He congratulated himself that it had been a
 
 THUS RUNS THE WORLD AWAY. 59 
 
 failure, and henceforward he determined to 
 seek neither the friendship of men nor the love 
 of women. He virtually closed his house, for 
 he confined himself to the parlor in which he 
 ate and the room in which he slept. And he 
 dismissed all his servants, excepting the old 
 woman who cooked his food, and her husband, 
 who attended to his horse and gig, and pot 
 tered about the garden at odd hours. 
 
 Then he devoted himself, body and soul, to 
 the mill which Joe had despised. He built 
 wings to it, and added a story, and lengthened 
 the chimney until it overtopped all the chim 
 neys far and near. He filled it with the 
 finest machinery. He employed only the 
 most competent hands. He utilized every 
 drop of water and every ounce of steam so 
 cleverly that people said, " If there were only 
 the power of a blue-bottle fly owd Braith- 
 waite would turn it to account." He was 
 always busy and active and apparently so 
 cheerful that no one suspected him to be at 
 heart an unhappy and bitterly disappointed 
 man, 
 
 In the meantime, Joe was taking his exist 
 ence with a large measure of content. Aunt
 
 60 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 Martha watched over his comfort with that 
 priceless common-place love which does not 
 disdain the oversight of very inferior details, 
 which can superintend meals and oversee 
 stockings and buttons, and is not to be frittered 
 away by continual small demands on forbear 
 ance and sympathy. For in scarcely any 
 respect did Joe fulfil Martha Thrale s personal 
 hopes and desires. He turned out to be a 
 society man instead of a chapel man. He 
 went to balls and parties, he dressed elegantly, 
 and visited in the grandest houses. He was 
 a kind of leader in a very fashionable set. 
 And of course $,ooo could not last for ever, 
 even when a man is nowise troubled about 
 board and lodging bills. So, at the end of 
 four years dressing and visiting and driving, 
 Joe s credit was no longer represented by four 
 figures, for he had dipped deeply into his last 
 thousand. However, he was then ready to go 
 into business, and he felt sure that the large 
 circle of friends he had made would repay 
 the expense of making them. He furnished a 
 handsome office and announced himself to the 
 public as Attorney-at-law. But Yorkshiremen 
 are proverbially cautious, and a handsome,
 
 THUS RUNS "1HE WORLD AWAY. 6 1 
 
 good-natured, fashionably-dressed young man 
 was the very antipodes of their ideal lawyer. 
 Joe could not look crafty or wise under any 
 circumstances, and during the first year of his 
 professional life he did not make sufficient 
 money to pay his office rent. 
 
 Nevertheless Joe did not in any way think 
 of curtailing his expenses. When the summer 
 holidays arrived, he went as usual to a favor- 
 ite watering-place. He admitted to himself 
 that it might be the last summer he could af 
 ford the luxury, and he determined to make 
 the most of his pleasure. No face was so 
 bright, no heart so gay, no one so entertaining 
 and so popular. 
 
 In the height of the season there was a re 
 port that stirred the heart of every young man 
 in Harrowgate ; Miss Edith Bradley was com 
 ing. She was said to be beautiful, she was 
 known to be immensely wealthy. She was 
 only twenty-two years old, and therefore not 
 past the age in which women are apt to think 
 the world well lost for love. 
 
 Joe had heard before of Miss Bradley ; not 
 so much of Miss Bradley as of her father. Old 
 Luke Bradley had been always a Mordecai to
 
 62 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 his own father. There had been a deep and 
 long-cherished grudge between the two men. 
 Both of them had loved AnnThrale, and Amos 
 had won her. After her decease, Luke had 
 spoken warmly concerning the indifference of 
 Amos to her comfort while she was living, and 
 to her memory when she was dead. He had 
 emphasized his opinions by many well-directed 
 interferences with the business of Bevin Mill. 
 He had bid wool up when Amos wished to buy. 
 He had bought off hands Amos wished to re 
 tain. He had dropped words and looks before 
 probable customers which had doubtless lost 
 Amos many a sovereign. He had run against 
 him for local offices, and always defeated him ; 
 in short, he had been a stumbling block and an 
 offense in every business plan, and in every 
 social ambition which Amos had conceived. 
 
 Joe remembered w r ell the reticent satisfaction 
 which the news of his death had given at Bevin 
 Hall. Arnos had not, at that hour, spoken a 
 word expressive of his feelings; but all the 
 same he had not been able to hide his senti 
 ments. He might just as well have said then, 
 what he said a few days afterward : " He ll hev 
 to abate himsen a bit now. He ll find out thet
 
 THUS RUNS THE WORLD AWAY. 63 
 
 Luke Bradley can t order things as he fancies 
 em, for wherever he is, there s sure to be big 
 ger folk than he iver was. My word ! How 
 he used to jingle t guineas in his breeches 
 pocket, and then step out to t music they 
 made." 
 
 Joe remembered all these things. He had 
 felt thoroughly in sympathy with his father s 
 sense of injury from Luke Bradley, yet he had 
 a vague curiosity to see this daughter of their 
 enemy. The feeling was perhaps something 
 more than a curiosity ; it included a dim and 
 depressing presentiment about her, a conscious 
 ness which was stronger than his curiosity, and 
 which found a tangible expression in a reluc 
 tance to meet her. 
 
 And yet, unless he left Harrowgate, a meet 
 ing was inevitable. The question soon resolved 
 itself into two points, neither of which he had 
 any desire to face. First, if he liked Edith 
 Bradley, he would feel like a traitor to the 
 past, and to his father, and he would most 
 likely cast away the last chance of a reconcilia 
 tion with him. Second, if he did not like her, 
 it was probable the feeling would be mutual, 
 in which case Edith might say and do little
 
 64 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 things which would make his longer stay an un 
 pleasant, perhaps a mortifying ordeal. 
 
 So he resolved to shorten his holiday. He 
 was nearly out of funds, and it was evident his 
 affairs were reaching a crisis. He took a quiet 
 stroll in the gardens to consider his future 
 course, and as he wandered thoughtfully under 
 the trees he saw two ladies sitting in a little 
 alcove in advance of him. One of them he 
 knew was Lilian Gates ; he recognized her short, 
 slight figure and shrill laugh ; the other was 
 Edith Bradley. 
 
 He knew it, though he could not have given 
 a single reason for knowing it. Retreat was 
 not possible, for the ladies must have seen him. 
 He dreaded Lilian s witty explanation of his 
 position. He would not have Edith Bradley 
 think he was afraid to meet her. So he ad 
 vanced slowly, bearing with a studied non 
 chalance their critical eyes. Lilian received 
 him with a frivolous badinage that was reas 
 suring, and he heard her go through some form 
 of introduction, and perceived that a tall, 
 noble-looking woman was bowing graciously in 
 response to the words uttered. 
 
 Under no circumstances had he ever been so
 
 THUS RUXS THE WOULD AWAY. 65 
 
 abashed before. But presently he threw off 
 his unusual constraint, plunged boldly into 
 conversation, and ere long ventured to look 
 into Edith s face. He saw that she was a very 
 handsome woman, with soft, large eyes, em 
 phasized by dark, level brows, and thick bands 
 of black hair, hair which had naturally the 
 wave and ripple most women simulate by art. 
 Her complexion was brown, but her cheeks 
 were tinted by the most vivid carnation, and 
 when Joe lifted his eyes to her, and spoke a 
 few words of very common-place tenor, the 
 same bright color flushed her throat and 
 mounted to her wide, low brow. She was 
 dressed in silk, sort in texture, and like old 
 ivory in shade, brightened here and there with 
 bows of carnation ribbon. She affected Joe as 
 some gorgeous tropical flower might have done. 
 He did not, however, remain long in her 
 presence, for he was troubled about his dress 
 and appearance. He was sure that never 
 before had he worn so unbecoming a coat, nor 
 done himself so little justice. All thoughts of 
 leaving Harrogate were gone as if they had 
 never been. He felt that he would be miser- 
 able until he had done something to redeem
 
 66 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 the unfavorable first impression which he was 
 convinced he had made upon Miss Bradley. 
 
 But Edith did not seem to have been at all 
 unfavorably impressed. On the contrary, when 
 Joe was out of sight and hearing, she said 
 softly, " What a pleasant man ! He affects one 
 like sunshine dancing in a room on a change 
 able spring day." 
 
 " He is a very handsome man," answered 
 Lilian. "The girls all admire his glinting blue 
 eyes and delightful temper. He is a great 
 favorite." 
 
 " And has he any special favorite ? Perhaps 
 you are his favorite, Lilian. That is the reason 
 you wanted to come into the gardens. You 
 knew he would meet you." 
 
 " No, indeed, Edith. I fancy his love would 
 be hard to win ; and maybe it would not repay 
 the girl who would be spendthrift enough to 
 squander her own on it." 
 
 Then Edith rose as if the subject no longer 
 interested her. " Let us go into the house," 
 she said. " It has suddenly become dull. Is 
 it going to rain, I wonder?"
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 JOE PLEASES HIS FATHER. 
 
 Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer cL 
 If money goes before, all ways lie open. 
 Love s reason s without reason. 
 
 Stony limits cannot hold love out ; 
 And what love can do, that dares love attempt. 
 
 IN every life there are moments which are 
 turning-points. After them nothing is 
 quite the same, and no effort brings back the 
 something which has been lost or changed. 
 Joe left Edith Bradley s presence conscious of 
 this feeling, and half resentful at it. He asked 
 himself what Luke Bradley s daughter could be 
 to him. He had been taught to hate Luke 
 Bradley, and he had done so thoroughly. To 
 love Edith was, in a fashion, to eat his own 
 and his father s words. " Father would have a 
 good right to be topping angry at me if I did 
 such a thing," he mused ; " and I m sure he d
 
 68 MASTER OF HIS FA TE. 
 
 think that I did it just to make him angry. I 
 wouldn t do that, not I ! " 
 
 But, in spite of his efforts he could not keep 
 the beautiful Edith out of his mind. He 
 decided to leave Harrogate, and then found 
 half a dozen reasons for not doing so. In three 
 days he was deeply in love and beginning to 
 realize his position. It was all the harder 
 now to contemplate giving up all hope of win 
 ning Edith, because she had been so genuinely 
 kind to him. In many ways she had shown 
 her pleasure in his society and her preference 
 for it, and Joe found it impossible to resist her 
 many charms when he was within their influence. 
 
 This sweet uncertainty of love, this determi 
 nation to do one hour the thing which it is 
 determined not to do the next hour, is the 
 very atmosphere of an affection which is at 
 once alluring and unwise ; and Jce was restless 
 enough under the circumstances. One evening, 
 as he was walking through the pretty town, full 
 of vague longings and very positive anxieties, 
 he met Edith. She was so unaffectedly glad 
 to see him, and she blushed so brightly when 
 she looked into his face, that Joe forgot every 
 thing but the delight of the hour. Without
 
 JOE PLEASES HIS FATHER. 69 
 
 any direct invitation she walked with him into 
 the outskirts of the town. 
 
 They found a rustic stile leading into a shady 
 pasture, and, as if in obedience to his unspoken 
 desires, Edith walked through the grass by his 
 side. They spoke little, for silence seemed to 
 be so eloquent. And oh, how sweet was the 
 silence between them ! In the twilight they 
 drew closer to each other and began to con- 
 verse softly about their own past lives. Edith 
 told him that she had been educated in Bristol 
 because she had an aunt living there ; that she 
 had scarcely returned home ere her father died, 
 and that, ever since, she had lived at Bradley 
 Court. 
 
 Joe thought she must be lonely there, and 
 wondered how she could manage so large an 
 estate. And Edith admitted that she very 
 often was a little lonely ; but that, as for the 
 estate, it was easily managed. She had her 
 father s old lawyer and agents to help her, and, 
 she added with a sharp laugh, " I should know 
 very well, though, how to take care of it with 
 out them." 
 
 During that walk Joe s last scruples gave 
 way. He determined to win Edith if it were
 
 7 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 possible ; and when this determination had 
 been arrived at, he began to tell himself that 
 his father had, in a manner, cast him off ; that 
 nothing he could do would be likely to be satis 
 factory, and that, therefore, he might as well 
 marry the woman he loved. 
 
 And he thought about Edith s riches until 
 they became quite unobjectionable. His pro 
 fession had been, as yet, a failure. He had 
 adopted it in a kind of bravado ; he did not 
 like it, and he had no special genius for it. In 
 his heart he knew that he was never likely to 
 be a successful lawyer. His money was nearly 
 gone. His father was practically dead to him, 
 his aunt too poor to give him pecuniary aid ; 
 four years of luxury and self-indulgence had 
 made him far less inclined to face the strife of 
 life than he had been on that night when he 
 elected to take his own way and $,ooo. 
 
 To be master of Bradley Manor and the hus 
 band of the handsome Edith Bradley was 
 surely not a bad lot in life. If fortune designed 
 him so much favor, why should he throw it 
 away for a few sentimental objections ? The 
 idea became familiarly pleasant to him. He
 
 JOE PLEASES HIS FATHER. 71 
 
 was determined to let every thing go in order to 
 realize it. 
 
 And Edith had that proud nature which 
 would rather confer an obligation than accept 
 one. Directed by the impulse of her own 
 heart, she had singled out this handsome youth 
 for her favor in the very hour of their meeting. 
 Still, she was more cautious than impulsive. 
 She desired to be better acquainted with her 
 lover s character. Above all she wanted to be 
 certain of her own heart ; and she waited for 
 its assurance with a curious eagerness, wondering 
 often by what name she ought to call the sweet 
 tumult in her breast, the longing for Joe s pres 
 ence, the restlessness in his absence, the in 
 fluence which he personally exercised over her. 
 
 One morning in the following spring, she 
 awoke with all these doubts settled. She had 
 had a wonderful dream. She had dreamt that 
 she loved Joe. And the dream had been so 
 delightful that it made her heart ache to 
 awaken from it. It was the settlement of the 
 question to her, and it influenced her manner 
 in some such sweetly subtle way that it was 
 almost as perfect a revelation to Joe. That 
 afternoon, as they walked in the garden, with
 
 72 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 the glory and the freshness of the spring 
 around them, Joe asked Edith to be his wife, 
 and Edith told him her dream, and let him read 
 it as he wished. 
 
 The few hours that followed were so wonder 
 ful to Joe that they actually changed for a short 
 space the youth s countenance. It was so 
 bright and joyous, he held his head so high and 
 stepped so proudly, that Martha Thrale could 
 not but notice his exaltation, the more so 
 that it was in such direct contrast to the moods 
 of anxiety and depression he had recently been 
 subject to. 
 
 " Well, Joe," she said, cheerfully, " thou looks 
 middling happy to-night ; and I m glad to see 
 it. Whatever is up with thee ? " 
 
 " The best bit of luck that can come to any 
 man, Aunt Martha." 
 
 " Does ta mean wedding?" 
 
 " Yes, I mean wedding. What do you think 
 of it?" 
 
 " I niver waste time thinking o it. I am too 
 old, and thou art too poor. Wedding is 
 naught in my line, nor in thine either, I sud say." 
 
 " But, aunt, I have won the noblest prize in 
 England."
 
 JOE PLEASES HIS FATHER. 73 
 
 " I hev heard a sight o men and women say 
 t vary same thing, when t craze to get wed 
 comes over em. And I hev noticed that it is 
 most sure to come to such foolish folk as hev 
 no knowledge o private arithmetic and can t 
 reckon up ta difference between their incomings 
 and outgoings." 
 
 " I am not one of that kind, aunt. And if 
 money can make us happy, she has plenty of 
 it." 
 
 " I don t say that money can make you 
 happy, Joe ; not it ! Folks usually expect a 
 deal more happiness from money than it iver 
 gives, either men or women. Who is ta going 
 to marry ? Or, rather, who is going to marry 
 thee." 
 
 " Miss Bradley." 
 
 " Niver ! Niver!! Niver!!! 
 
 " She is that, though. And there is not a 
 better or a lovelier woman in the world." 
 
 " Owd Luke Bradley s daughter? " 
 
 " To be sure." 
 
 " I wouldn t hev thought it of thee ! Does 
 ta remember all t wrongs he did thy father? 
 I m not on t side of Amos Braithwaite mostly, 
 but I do think it is a shame o thee to tak t
 
 74 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 daughter of his life-long enemy for thy wife ; 
 I do that! Why, he ll niver forgive 
 thee." 
 
 " I stood by my father while he stood by me. 
 Now he never so much as asks if I be living or 
 dead. He can hardly expect me to give up 
 Edith in order to carry on his spite against a 
 dead man. I d be a fool if I did." 
 
 " I never said thou wert a wise man, but I 
 don t think a fool is iver a big fool until he gets 
 himsen married. Thou hasn t made ^"50 in a 
 twelvemonths. How is ta going to keep a rich, 
 fashionable lass like Edith Bradley ? " 
 
 " Miss Bradley has ^6,000 a year, beside the 
 income from Bradley Manor. That is some 
 thing." 
 
 " Happen it is and happen it isn t. But if ta 
 wants to marry ,6,000, do it, my lad. I don t 
 think thou wilt be any too good for such a job 
 if ta tak s to it, Joe." 
 
 Nothing Joe could say reconciled Martha 
 Thrale to the marriage. Good lasses come 
 from good stock," she said angrily ; " and I 
 think little o Luke Bradley." 
 
 " I never heard any one but father say any 
 thing wrong of Luke Bradley. He was a very
 
 JOE PLEASES HIS FATHER. 75 
 
 good churchman, and his hands all spoke well 
 of him." 
 
 " Thy father had his own opinions of Bradley, 
 and if ta was a good son thou would surely stand I 
 by thy own family." 
 
 " Right or wrong ? " 
 
 " Right or wrong, for sure ! But I mak 
 no doubt thou would go against me also, if there 
 was .6,000 a year for that job too. When is ta 
 going to be wed ? " 
 
 " In a month." 
 
 " My word ! Thou is in a hurry. I sud 
 think thou might give thy father a chance to; 
 say a word about bringing t Bradleys into his 
 family. It isn t fair, Joe; it isn t a bit fair of 
 thee." 
 
 Such conversations were very common during 
 the hurried interval, though, as the wedding 
 day drew near, Martha grew more and more 
 taciturn. She wanted Amos to know the step 
 his son was contemplating, and yet she could 
 not make up her mind to be the informant. 
 The news, however, reached Amos in a still 
 more direct way. 
 
 It happened that Joshua Perkins had the 
 management of the Bradley estate, and a few
 
 76 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 days before the proposed marriage was to be 
 celebrated, Joe and Edith rode over to his 
 office together in order to sign some papers. 
 The business was pleasantly transacted, and 
 the lovers were cantering up the street to 
 gether, when Amos Braithwaite s gig stopped 
 at the lawyer s door. 
 
 Perkins stood just within it, shading his eyes 
 with his hands, and watching the happy, hand- 
 some couple. When Amos was at his side, he 
 pointed them out to him. The trop-a-trop, 
 trop-a-trop of the horses feet was flung back in 
 resonant echoes, anfl Perkins, with a soft, 
 unctuous laugh, said, " Dost ta see that bay 
 gelding thy Joe is riding? It s worth four 
 hundred guineas if it s worth a halfpenny ; and 
 it can do "proputty! prop-ut-ty ! prop-ut-ty ! " 
 quite as well as that farmer s nag some o them 
 great poets made a song about." 
 
 " Whativer is ta talking about ? " 
 
 "That is Joe Braithwaite." 
 
 " I don t need thee to tell me that, I sud 
 think." 
 
 " Does ta know t lass he is with ? " 
 
 " Not I. I d be middling busy if I tried to 
 keep up wi Joe s sweethearts."
 
 JOE PLEASES HIS FATHER. 77 
 
 " Ay ; but thou wilt hev to know this one. 
 Why, it s Luke Bradley s daughter, and thy 
 Joe and her are bound to mak a wedding of 
 it." 
 
 " Joshua Perkins, be quiet, will ta ! Our Joe 
 and Bradley s lass ! Thou doesn t know what 
 ta is saying !" 
 
 " I know varry well what I m saying, and 
 thou wilt find it come out so whether ta be 
 lieves me or not." 
 
 " Thou caps me ! It s a bit o news I can t 
 tak into my head at all." 
 
 " Well, I don t blame thee. Thou may well 
 hev a wondering spell. But it is true as Gos 
 pel. I hev drawn out t settlements, and they 
 hev just signed em. My word ! but she is a 
 clever lass! She ll keep what s her awn on t* 
 safe side." 
 
 " Joe wer allays going up and down among 
 t women wi his heart in his hand ! but to 
 think o Bradley s lass taking it ! Is she worth 
 much ? " 
 
 " Bradley Manor and ^"6,000 a year. And 
 she is varry handsome, and sharp as a steel- 
 trap." 
 
 " Say no more, Perkins. Joe will be knock.
 
 7 8 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 ing his head against t stars soon ; he ll be that 
 set up. Lookee, Perkins," and Amos drew a 
 long bill from his pocket-book and pointed out 
 certain items against which he had put a pencil- 
 mark. 
 
 " What does ta mean by charging me i this 
 way ? I ll niver pay it niver ! " 
 
 " Business, Braithwaite, business." 
 
 " Cheat ry, thou means. If this is business, 
 thou sud hev taken out a license to steal. I 
 want to start an action against John Deaconson 
 for me lling wi 1 my beck, but thou s all not 
 touch a paper till this bill is settled. Now 
 then, what is ta going to do about it?" 
 
 "The charges are quite reg lar." 
 
 " I m reg lar too in t courts ; and I m almost 
 as good a lawyer as thysen." 
 
 Perkins laughed, and then ran his pen 
 through the objectionable items as he said : 
 " One bear does not bite another bear, Braith 
 waite, and it wouldn t pay me to eat thee up." 
 
 " I sud think it wouldn t. There s outsiders 
 for thee to whet thy teeth on. See here now." 
 Then he laid before the lawyer his complaint 
 and his instructions, and in their consideration 
 he seemed to have entirely forgotten the news
 
 JOE PLEASES HIS FATHER. 79 
 
 about his son. But he had not. As he rode 
 back to Bevin Mill he thought of nothing* else, 
 and he looked at the affair in a way that would 
 probably never have suggested itself to any one 
 but Amos Braithwaite. 
 
 He had begun his manufacturing life as a 
 hand in Bradley s mill, and in the subsequent 
 years all the relations between the men had 
 been of the most exasperating kind. But Amos 
 regarded his son s marriage with Bradley s 
 daughter and heiress as a kind of providential 
 retribution in his favor, and he was in a 
 triumphant state as he muttered to himself, 
 " How t owd turkey-cock used to snub me \ 
 How he used to gobble round and set me in 
 Cold-shoulder Lane as often as iver he could ! 
 And only to think o Luke Bradley tueing and 
 scrimping himsen and saving a his brass for 
 my Joe! It caps me all to bits!" and he 
 flecked his whip so emphatically that the horse 
 really imagined him in a hurry, and went at a 
 pace through Bevin village that would have 
 astonished Amos himself had he been conscious 
 of it. 
 
 But in that hour some very unusual thoughts 
 had possession of his mind. Unknowingly,
 
 So MASTER OF HI 3 FATE. 
 
 almost defiantly, Joe Braithwaite had done a 
 thing which seemed to Joe s father a particu 
 lar providence for the settlement of his claims 
 against the dead- and -gone Luke Bradley. 
 Amos could believe in a special providence 
 when it undertook the righting of his peculiar 
 personal grievances, and he kept ejaculating in 
 the excitement of his satisfaction, " It s fair 
 wonderful ! It s a clear providence ! It s what 
 I niver could hev expected ! And I hev no 
 doubt at all that t proud, miserly owd fellow 
 knows all about it. My word ! If he does, my 
 Joe will be plaguing him far worse thon even t 
 devil himsen can manage it ! He will that !"
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MASTER AND MISTRESS OF BRADLE\. 
 
 There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so. 
 Tis in ourselves that we are thus, or thus, 
 Love is love to the end of the reckoning. 
 
 whole affair was such a wonder to 
 X Amos that he could not eat his dinner. 
 " I am more than satisfied. I m heart-full," he 
 said, as he pushed the platter and plate aside. 
 " A bit o tobacco is all as iver I need to-night; 
 my own thoughts are a good meal, and plenty 
 o it. Joe has given me my dinner, and a right 
 good one it is! T lad is no fool, why, of course 
 he isn t. He s my son. It ud be a varry 
 strange thing if he didn t know what side his 
 bread was t best buttered on." 
 
 Then it occurred to him that he might go 
 into Bradford and buy the handsomest bit of 
 silverware or jewelry he could put his hands 
 on. He had never said he wouldn t give Joe s
 
 82 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 wife a present, and he could send it without a 
 name, and so avoid the bother of thanks, which 
 might lead to an interview, and far more con 
 cession than he had any intention of making at 
 this time, even under circumstances so agree 
 able to him. 
 
 He lay awake a long time that night, picking 
 and choosing among Joshua Wilson s fine 
 silverware and brooches and bracelets. And 
 as men wake and muse in the dark midnight, 
 they are either better or worse than their usual 
 selves. Amos was better. He remembered 
 Joe s pleasant ways and bright presence and 
 handsome face. Vague, longing plans for 
 bringing back his banished son flitted through 
 his mind. He was quite resolved to send 
 Edith a silver tea service, and as handsome a 
 bracelet as he could put his fingers on. And 
 feeling all the glow of his kind intention, he 
 fell happily asleep. 
 
 But while he slept some evil angel whispered 
 doubtful and irritating suspicions into his ear. 
 He awoke with a sense of injury, and the first 
 thoughts of his heart were : " Mebbe, now, Joe 
 is marrying Edith Bradley just because he 
 knows I hated her father so heartfully. He
 
 MASTER AND MISTRESS OF BRADLEY. 83 
 
 thinks it will spite me, happen. Or, I sudn t 
 wonder if he is aiming to set himsen above me. 
 He ll hev more brass now to fling away than I 
 hev, and he ll get among gentry that wouldn t 
 know Amos Braithwaite, no, not if they passed 
 him fifty times a day. I hevn t any objection, 
 I m sure only, come to think o it, I d be more 
 than a fool to waste my money on owd Bradley s 
 lass. I won t do it ! Folks hev a lot o soft 
 thoughts in t night time, to be sure. It s a 
 blessing that a bit o common sense comes back 
 wi t sun up." 
 
 His experiences of life had led Amos always 
 to attribute the lowest motives to the human 
 heart ; and so he let these baser second thoughts 
 rule him. Yet he was morose and unhappy 
 under their sway, and his hands, with the intui 
 tive penetration of servants, divined the cause 
 of his ill-temper, and decided with great satis 
 faction that " he hadn t been invited to t 
 wedding, and thet it served him right." 
 
 But one morning there came to him a note in 
 white satin and silver. It was an invitation to 
 be present at the marriage of Joseph Braith 
 waite and Edith Bradley, at Bradley Court. 
 Within this fine missive there was a strip of
 
 34 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 ordinary writing paper, and on it Joe had writ 
 ten four words, " Do come, dear father." 
 
 He held the whole in his large, brown, hairy 
 hand a few minutes, looking steadily at them. 
 Then, with a smile, in which anger and satisfac 
 tion were queerly blended, he dropped the gay 
 festival cards into the fire, and as he watched 
 them turn to ashes he slowly fingered the strip 
 of paper that bore his son s entreating mes 
 sage, " Do come, dear father." 
 
 He hesitated about burning it, and to hesi 
 tate is generally to give up or to give in. After 
 a few moments had passed, he took out his 
 pocket-book, and put the bit of paper into a 
 compartment intended for postage stamps, but 
 which he never used for that purpose. And 
 while doing so tne question of a wedding- 
 present again crossed his mind. But this time 
 it came when every thing was adverse for its 
 realization. He had just been buying largely, 
 and needed all his ready cash, and, besides, it 
 .suddenly struck him that silver or jewelry was 
 just so much cash buried in a casket or drawer 
 and not paying a penny of interest. 
 
 " A bit of good chinaware is all I hev, and 
 all I want in my house, and I niver owned
 
 MASTER AND MISTRESS OF BRADLEY. 8t> 
 
 aught in t way o* jewelry but a silver watch 
 mysen," he muttered; and Amos was not the 
 man to think the requirements of any other 
 person greater than his own. Thus, every kindly 
 thought perished in suspicion and avarice. 
 
 It would have made Joe happy if he had 
 known of their existence, transient as it was. 
 He watched anxiously for some answer to his 
 request, and he was hurt and disappointed 
 when none came. All the more so, because 
 Martha Thrale had also positively refused to 
 be present at the marriage. She had taken a 
 great dislike to Miss Bradley at their first in 
 terview. She fancied that the young lady 
 tried to patronize her, a mode of treatment 
 which highly offended the independent York 
 shire woman. 
 
 " She wanted naught that Edith Bradley 
 hed ; she was welcome to her fine house, and 
 her grand friends, ay, and her handsome hus 
 band, too. She hedn t a word to say either 
 for t wedding, or against it. It was none of 
 her affairs," etc. Yet to her favorite Wesleyan 
 preacher she admitted that " Miss Bradley 
 was that kind o young woman as allays set 
 her teeth on edge."
 
 86 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 " Her tenants speak well of her, Miss Thrale," 
 he rejoined, " and it is our duty to hope for 
 the best." 
 
 " To be sure, sir. I hev heard that she is 
 sweet as May flowers to them as she can order 
 and hector! Niver mind ! It won t be very 
 long before Joe Braithwaite will get to see 
 into his folly a bit." 
 
 " She is lady of the Manor, you know, Miss 
 Thrale, and it is her duty to take some author 
 ity upon her. She ought to reprove the idle 
 and the slovenly, and see that those under her 
 do their duty." 
 
 " She does it varry well, and varry often, if 
 all reports be true. And, if she is anything 
 like her father, she ll tak t sharp edge off Joe 
 Braithwaite quick enough, if she thinks he s 
 getting a bit too for ard or independent. I 
 hope she will. I m not sorry for Joe, but I 
 am for Joe s father. I don t set much store by 
 Amos Braithwaite, but I know this wedding 
 will be vinegar and gall to him. Joe hed a 
 right to think of his father, and it s hard on 
 me too, it is that ! I ve done iverything for 
 Joe, and then he marries such a lass as I can 
 not abide to go to t wedding. And me that
 
 MASTER AND MISTRESS OF BRADLEY. 87 
 
 fond of going to weddings, and allays full o* 
 good wishes for young things beginning life 
 together." 
 
 " It is a little hard, Miss Thrale, but per 
 haps you may yet make up your mind to go." 
 
 " Me go ! Why ! I ve said I wouldn t go. I 
 am none o them women who say no, and then 
 yes." 
 
 But though Martha stayed at home to please 
 her own kind of pride, she deeply regretted 
 not having seen all the fine dresses and wed 
 ding presents, and not having been present 
 at a feast which included among its guests a 
 bishop, a baronet, and a member of Parliament. 
 There was a full report of all the grand doings 
 in the local paper, and Martha Thrale read 
 every word of it with the greatest interest and 
 the most minute attention. 
 
 Amos also read it ; and he had his own 
 opinion of the proceedings, and of their prob 
 able results. 
 
 " A bishop and two parsons ! " he said, sar 
 castically. " I wer married by t Methody 
 preacher in Baildon Chapel, and I found out 
 as t* job wer varry well done." 
 
 He had noticed Joshua Perkins s name among
 
 88 MASTER OF HIS FA7 E. 
 
 the Ifst of guests, and he waited anxiously fof 
 him to call and say something about the cere 
 mony. But Perkins did not even pass Bevin 
 Mill. 
 
 " He thinks if I have to go and see him I ll 
 bring a bit o business wi me, as an excuse 
 for he sells ivery word he speaks, does Joshua, 
 or tries to but I ll do nowt o t sort. It 
 would be such a wedding as niver was if t 
 news of it was worth paying for." 
 
 So he went to see Perkins, and made no ex 
 cuse for the visit. " I heard thou was at Joe s 
 wedding," he said, without any preliminary. 
 " Well, then, what kind of a time did ta hev 
 there ? " 
 
 " It was a varry grand affair, Mr. Braith- 
 waite." 
 
 " What is ta mistering me for ? Thou 
 knaws my name well enough, and thou hes 
 call d me by it a few times, I think." 
 
 " I was thinking of thee as connected with t 
 young couple of Bradley Manor, I suppose, so 
 a little formality would come natural." 
 
 " Think o me by mysen, will ta ? I m not a 
 mite better for t connection, and I don t think
 
 MASTER AND MISTRESS OF BRADLEY. 9 
 
 mysen any better for it. Why sud I ? So there 
 was great stirrings, I hear ? " 
 
 " The best people in the county were there." 
 
 " To be sure, and I hope t best people did 
 something to show what they were." 
 
 " If ta means in t way c presents, Amos, I 
 think they did, ay, I think they did. Varry 
 handsome indeed ! I heard the silver alone 
 was worth ^"2,000. I m astonished thou didn t 
 send a bit o plate o some sort." 
 
 "Thou would hev been far more astonished 
 if I had sent a bit of any sort at all. They ll 
 be going to live at Bradley Court, I reckon ? * 
 
 " Eventually." 
 
 " Eventually ! Now whativer does ta mean ? " 
 
 " I mean that they are gone abroad for some 
 months." 
 
 " Gone abroad ! Gone abroad ! What non 
 sense ! Where hev they gone to? " 
 
 " To Paris first, and then to Rome." 
 
 " Well, that caps all I ever heard of. Paris 
 and Rome ! Joe ought to be shamed o him- 
 sen. He knows what I think o such carryings 
 on. I sud hev thought London and Edin 
 burgh might hev been good enough for em." 
 
 " Are not Abana and Pharpar, rivers of
 
 9 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel ? * 
 quoted Perkins, for the moment quite well 
 pleased with his own adaptation. But Amos 
 did not understand the allusion, and he an 
 swered with some asperity, " What ista saying ? 
 Them sound varry like Bible words." 
 
 " They are Bible words." 
 
 "Then what is ta using em here for? Thy 
 office isn t a fit place to be talking of t Bible 
 in, I sud think. When is Joe coming back to 
 England ? " 
 
 " Now then, Amos, I am not thy catechism ; 
 and I m partic lar busy this morning. There is 
 going to be a big fight between John Henry 
 \Vade and Timothy Crawley about t right and 
 t wrong of their spinning-jenny patent ; and 
 I hev to tak a hand in it." 
 
 " Hes ta ? Then I m sorry for t man, who- 
 iver he is, as thou art going to mak out to be 
 t varry biggest blackguard in a England." 
 
 The compliment was fully appreciated by 
 Perkins; and it put him in a good humor. 
 He rose and laid his hand upon Amos in a 
 very friendly way. " Listen to me a bit," he 
 said. " Don t ee worry thysen about Joe 
 Braithwaite. He s done a grand thing in wed-
 
 MASTER AND MISTRESS OF BRADLEY. 91 
 
 ding Edith Bradley. Why, a tell thee, Amos, 
 he may be i Parliament at t next general 
 election. I ll back him for it. Thou ought to 
 be proud o such a lad. He does thy bringing 
 up a deal o credit. And thou ought to hev 
 been at his wedding, and sent him off wi a 
 thousand pounds in his pocket. I wish ta hed." 
 
 " I dare say ta does, seeing thou wouldn t 
 hev been any loser by it. Good morning to 
 thee." 
 
 " Good morning, Amos. Thou may tak 
 things middling comfortable about Joe now; 
 my word for it." 
 
 " Don t thee charge me for thy word ; mind 
 that. I didn t come here to ask thee for it. 
 I ll not pay owt for it." 
 
 In the main, Joe was at this time quite of 
 the same opinion as Perkins, with regard to his 
 marriage. True, there had been several slight 
 disagreements before the ceremony with regard 
 to its arrangements. Perhaps, with reason, 
 Joe had felt Edith to have been more positive 
 than he liked ; but then a woman may surely 
 be positive about a circumstance so directly 
 and distinctly personal. Still she had failed 
 him on a point equally important to his own
 
 92 MAS7^ER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 feelings. For he had wished her to write to 
 his father and aunt, and try to conciliate them 
 a little ; and her firm refusal to do so had pained 
 him very much. The glory of his marriage 
 feast was dimmed by their absence, and he was 
 almost painfully conscious of the exclusively 
 Bradley influence. 
 
 Edith had reigned at Bradley Court as sole 
 mistress, and the habit of authority was easily 
 confirmed in a woman of her temper. And 
 whatever power she might delegate to Joe after 
 their union, it was very evident he could not 
 assume any control before it. So that, neces 
 sarily, he was frequently placed in a position 
 apparently subordinate to Edith. However, 
 men in love generally assume with voluntary 
 eagerness just this part, and Joe, as a lover, was 
 scarcely averse to Edith s pretty, masterful 
 ways. 
 
 And after she became his wife, circumstances 
 for a time were all in Joe s favor. They were 
 nearly a year upon the continent, travelling in 
 countries whose language Edith could not 
 speak. But Joe, in spite of his father s opposi 
 tion, had managed to acquire a very fair knowl 
 edge of French and German, and Edith was
 
 MASTER AND MISTRESS OF BRADLEY. 93 
 
 therefore compelled to rely entirely upon him 
 in all the exigencies of travel and dangers of 
 :, foreign shopping. 
 
 So during their ten months of travel Joe had 
 everything very much his own way. In all 
 their movements Edith deferred, with a charm 
 ing air of reliance, to his judgment ; and Joe 
 found a certain pleasure in very often relinquish 
 ing his judgment for her desires. 
 
 But when Edith returned to Bradley she was 
 on her native ground, and she quietly but 
 firmly resumed the power she had temporarily 
 abdicated. Nor could Joe very well complain. 
 He knew nothing of the affairs of Bradley 
 Manor, and Edith knew all its sources of rev 
 enue, knew the capabilities of every acre, the 
 net results of meadow and corn land, and the 
 probable amount of rent. 
 
 The day after their arrival at home, Perkins 
 came to Bradley Court and had a long inter 
 view with its mistress. Joe happened to be at 
 the stables when the consultation began, and 
 when he returned to the house no one remem 
 bered to call him to it. And the young hus 
 band was too proud, perhaps too offended, to 
 make any claim to a privilege not, under the
 
 94 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 circumstances, offered him. He waited half an 
 hour, in hopes of being summoned, and then 
 ordered his horse and rode into Leeds to see 
 Martha Thrale. 
 
 He had some fine lace for her, and a Roman 
 brooch ; and the dear old lady was not proof 
 against such a peace offering. She kissed Joe 
 tenderly, and he was glad of this evidence of a 
 love, long-suffering and faithful, even through 
 slight and neglect. For he had not written to 
 her at all while he was away, and there was 
 still a little heartburning about her absence 
 from Joe s wedding. She had only wanted a 
 little personal urging from Joe and Edith, and 
 they had not given it. So in her heart she 
 believed that she was not really wanted ; that, 
 in fact, they were both a bit ashamed of her 
 homely speech and unfashionable ways. 
 
 But all her anger vanished when Joe took 
 her hands, and stooped his handsome head for 
 her welcoming kiss. She was pleased with his 
 remembrance and willing to forget her own 
 sense of wrong. She asked many questions 
 about Edith, and in the course of conversation 
 learned of Perkins s visit. 
 
 It was the first thing which brought a cloud
 
 MASTER AND MISTRESS OF BRADLEY. 95 
 
 upon her sunny face. " Thou sud hev taken 
 thy proper place, Joe, this morning, and that 
 was at thy wife s side. Thou hes made a big 
 mistake, I fear me." 
 
 " I was not asked to take it. And when I 
 heard them counting money, I did not care to 
 seem to make a claim about it, so I thought I 
 would come over and see you for an hour. At 
 any rate, if I have to speak to Edith on this 
 matter, it is better to do so when we are alone. 
 I never trusted in Perkins s friendship." 
 
 " Now, then, I ll tell thee what will happen. 
 When ta gets home, Edith will be on her dig 
 nity a bit, or else she ll be heving a hurt 
 feeling at thee. She ll pretend that thou doesn t 
 like business, and that thou got out of t way 
 of it by coming to see me. Thou hes played 
 into her hand, my lad, finely." 
 
 "You see, aunt, she might be settling up 
 with Perkins. I can attend to her business 
 quite as well as he can for the future. If they 
 were having a final settlement, it was better 
 for me not to interfere." 
 
 " Does ta really believe that Perkins will give 
 up to thee? Not if he can help it. Now, then, 
 stand up for thy rights, Joe. Edith is that kind
 
 96 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 of woman as will think the better of thee for 
 it." 
 
 And, somehow, though Martha had not in 
 tended to do so, she sent Joe home with a 
 slight sense of injury in his heart, and a slight 
 stubbornness of will in regard to his own future-
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THINGS THAT TROUBLE. 
 
 Alas, how light a cause may move 
 Dissension between hearts that love ! 
 
 He that lacks time to mourn lacks time to mend 
 Eternity mourns that. Tis an ill cure 
 For life s worst ills to have no time to feel them. 
 Where sorrow s held intrusive and turned out, 
 There wisdom will not enter, nor true power, 
 Nor aught that dignifies humanity. 
 
 FROM his conversation with Martha Thrale, 
 Joe rode home in a thoughtful and de 
 spondent mood, for when warning or doubtful 
 speeches hit us hard it is generally because 
 there is some similar doubt or warning in our 
 own breasts. And Joe did feel dissatisfied as 
 to his position and uncertain as to his move 
 ments. 
 
 At Edith s request he had closed his office in 
 Leeds before their marriage ; and though noth 
 ing had been said on the subject he naturally 
 expected to have the charge of the Bradley
 
 9 8 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 Manor estate. Also, very naturally, Perkins 
 had no desire to relinquish so profitable a part 
 of his business. So something very like the 
 conversation which Martha Thrale anticipated 
 had really taken place that morning. 
 
 With words of praise for Joe s generous, gay 
 disposition, he had nevertheless managed to 
 make Edith feel that this very gaiety and 
 generosity were in opposition to the steady, 
 solid qualities necessary for the welfare of her 
 farms and investments. She was strongly con- 
 servative by nature. She preferred the same 
 people and the same methods ; she distrusted 
 change of every kind, and she had, perhaps, 
 too high an opinion of her own business tact, 
 and too low an estimate of her husband s. It 
 was Perkins s interest to strengthen both these 
 views, and he did not scruple to administer the 
 amount of flattery and distrust suitable to his 
 policy. 
 
 " I hev hed t entire charge o Bradley Manor 
 for more years than you hev been in t world, 
 Mrs. Braithwaite," he said, " and my father hed 
 it before me. There isn t a rood of land I 
 don t know t full value of ; and as for t leases 
 that are running, and falling in, it is summut
 
 THINGS THAT TROUBLE. 99 
 
 like an education to be up wi them. Mr. 
 Braithwaite is the best o good men, kind- 
 hearted and generous beyond iverything ; but 
 it isn t kindness and generosity that will make 
 Bradley pay. A landlord, or lady, hes to be a 
 bit hard these times to get their money back ; 
 and you hev some tenants, ma am, as would 
 just tak their awn way wi Mr. Braithwaite, that 
 is, unless you make out to do the business 
 yourself ; for I will say that there are varry few 
 lawyers in Yorkshire that could do it better 
 than you, or be a bit more prompt and even- 
 handed in a their ways." 
 
 " If you think Mr. Braithwaite is not able to 
 manage Bradley yet, Perkins, why, then, I shall 
 not try to do what you fear unadvisable for 
 him to attempt. It would be placing my hus 
 band in a very peculiar position." 
 
 " Naturally." 
 
 " So you had better retain your charge fot 
 this year at any rate. During the interval Mr. 
 Braithwaite will have time to become familiar 
 with the tenants and the land." 
 
 This appeared to be a fair and thoughtful ar 
 rangement both for the estate and the master 
 of it ; and Edith explained it to her husband in
 
 ioo MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 her very sweetest way. But Joe did not receive 
 the explanation with the gay indifference of a 
 man whose sole business in life was to get rid 
 of trouble and enjoy himself. He grew white 
 with anger. He said very plainly that he 
 thought his wishes in the matter ought to have 
 been consulted, and he added, with some sense 
 of injury, that he did not like his wife taking 
 his business aptitudes at the valuation Joshua 
 Perkins chose to put upon them. 
 
 They had had little disagreements before, 
 but when a disagreement includes serious 
 money considerations, as well as a personal 
 slight, it has in it elements of heart-burning 
 not easily soothed. And ignoring a household 
 offence does not by any means cure it. Joe 
 did not again allude to Perkins, and Edith en 
 deavored to make her interviews with him as 
 unobtrusive as possible, yet both were con 
 scious of the perpetual wrong inflicted by this 
 want of mutual confidence and interest. 
 
 However, Joe had naturally a hopeful heart, 
 and his gay temper and fine health combined 
 with it made him turn with readiness, in the 
 main, to the brighter side of his position. He 
 was soon an immense favorite with the gentle-
 
 THINGS THAT TROUBLE. IOI 
 
 men in his neighborhood. If there were a 
 county ball, or hunt, or public dinner, or polit 
 ical meeting, Mr. Braithwaite, of Bradley 
 Court, was sure to have the management of 
 the many troublesome details necessary to its 
 success. 
 
 And for a little while Edith was pleased and 
 flattered by this social eclat and favor. It was 
 a kind of popular endorsement of the wisdom 
 of her marriage. For in her deepest conscious 
 ness she was often uneasy on this point. She 
 knew that her father had planned a much 
 grander lot for her. He had fully expected 
 that her fortune would buy her a title, and give 
 her through a noble husband the freedom of 
 those charmed circles which his own birth and 
 education prevented him from entering. So, 
 though she was unaware of his hatred of Joe s 
 father, she was nevertheless very certain that 
 her marriage with Joe would have been a great 
 disappointment to him. 
 
 For a few months then she was pleased and 
 flattered by her husband s popularity. She 
 liked to go to balls over which he exercised a 
 mimic sovereignty. It was something to see 
 noblemen ask his advice, and noble ladies
 
 102 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 defer to his wishes, even on such trivial mat 
 ters as a hunt dinner or a masquerade. But 
 all earthly honors and pleasures have this great 
 drawback : they are dependent upon circum 
 stances, and they lose their value and charm 
 when these circumstances change. In time, 
 the very certainty of Joe s position, and the 
 general favor in which he was held, deprived 
 the small social triumphs of all their value. 
 
 Through them Joe had attained his position, 
 but when it was won the steps to it were an 
 offence to Edith. She began to feel that Mr. 
 Braithwaite was imposed upon in such matters. 
 She ignored the fact that his social standing 
 had been obtained through his gracious wil 
 lingness to oblige, his fine tact and taste, his 
 handsome appearance and good manners. It 
 became the habit of her mind to consider the 
 real source of Joe s honor was that he was the 
 nominal lord of Bradley Manor. She pre 
 ferred to think Joe drew all from her love, 
 rather than from the approbation of Sir 
 Thomas Wilson or Lady Charlton. 
 
 For some weeks Joe had perceived her dis 
 satisfaction. Lady Charlton s notes were 
 tossed aside with contempt, and when the
 
 THINGS THAT TROUBLE. 103 
 
 baron called for Joe s opinion or Joe s com 
 pany she did not, as at first, array herself 
 splendidly and charm the nobleman with her 
 delicate hospitality and gracious kindness. 
 But in the middle of the winter festivities she 
 spoke to Joe very plainly on the subject. They 
 were sitting at breakfast, and he handed her 
 a note from Charlton Castle. Sir William was 
 going to dine at the Coursing Club, and of 
 course the dinner would be incomplete without 
 Mr. Braithwaite, and Lady Charlton besought 
 his advice in reference to the ball which was to 
 close the entertainment, etc. There was also a 
 very charming note to Edith, but this morning 
 it was received with even more than her late 
 indifference. 
 
 "You will go, Edith?" 
 
 " No, I shall not go. They simply ask me 
 in order to secure your services. Lady Charl 
 ton was barely civil to me at their last dinner 
 party." 
 
 " Really, Edith, I thought it was you who 
 were barely civil." 
 
 " Joe, let us understand each other on this 
 subject. I think you have been an unpaid 
 steward for every one s entertainments quite
 
 104 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 long -enough. If our acceptance in county 
 society depends upon your being a kind of 
 lackey to Lady Wilson and Lady Charlton, I 
 think we had better retire from so humiliating 
 a position." 
 
 " Certainly, if that is the way you look at it, 
 retire at once. But I want you to know, 
 Edith, that nothing could induce me to lackey 
 any lady in the sense you seem to infer." 
 
 His cup was in his hand ; he set it down 
 with a little temper, and rose from the table, 
 though the meal was not finished. Edith 
 glanced into his white, angry face, and then 
 added in her most deliberate way: " There is 
 great need of our economizing. There are t\vo 
 leases out, and Perkins says the farms will have 
 to be re-let for a much smaller sum. The 
 stables require at least 100 spent upon them, 
 and all the fencing on Croftlands needs paint 
 ing, as you have probably noticed." 
 " I have not noticed Croftlands at all." 
 "You might have done so, I think." 
 "But why? It is not my place. You pay 
 Perkins to use his eyes." 
 
 " You could use yours also ; the best paid 
 service will bear looking after."
 
 THINGS THAT TROUBLE. 105 
 
 " Edith, if I am not able to manage your 
 property I will not be a spy upon a man whom 
 you affect to trust. If I were in Perkins s 
 place, would you set Perkins to look after my 
 work? But it is not Perkins, but Lady Charl- 
 ton, that I am interested in at present. Will 
 you go to Charlton on the i8th or not?" 
 
 " Since you put it in that form, I say most 
 decidedly I shall not go." 
 
 " Then, of course, I also shall refuse." 
 
 "Your refusal can be no real loss to you. 
 Chasing a poor trembling hare to its death, or 
 making a complimentary speech at a dinner, or 
 even ordering a cotillon, are very poor pleas 
 ures, I should think, when they become a kind 
 of steady business." 
 
 " You never spoke any truer words, Edith," 
 and he walked to the window and looked 
 gloomily into the white park, with its sombre 
 beauty of leafless trees and unbroken snow. 
 Will it be believed that he was remembering 
 at that moment, with a genuine regret, the 
 great mill at Market Bevin, and longing for 
 the stir of its traffic and the stimulating tumult 
 of its looms and hands? 
 
 "Chasing a hare, making a speech, ordering a
 
 106 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 cotillon," the words left an echo in his ear and 
 in his heart which would not die. He felt a 
 shame that stung him like a whip, and he 
 wanted to bear it in solitude. 
 
 " I am going to drive over to Leeds," he 
 said. " Is there any thing I can do for you ? " 
 
 " What are you going to Leeds for ? " 
 
 " I want to go. I really have no other 
 motive." 
 
 " You want to see that old woman who lives 
 there." 
 
 " If you mean Aunt Martha, I suppose I do 
 want to see her. I have not called upon her 
 since Christmas." 
 
 " Then you need do nothing for me. I shall 
 not mix my affairs up with her in any way. 
 By all means make her paramount." 
 
 It was not a very pleasant concession to his 
 desire, but that morning Joe did not mind it 
 much. A sudden disgust for his aimless, use 
 less life had fallen upon him. When he found 
 himself in Martha Thrale s home the feeling 
 deepened. Her house was full of boarders. 
 The comfort of a great many people was in 
 busy hands. But she was very cheerful amid 
 her pleasant cares, and quite proud of the
 
 THINGS THAT TROUBLE. 107 
 
 handsome profit she was making. Perhaps 
 her life interests were not great, but they 
 sufficed her, and she really looked happier than 
 the fortunate bridegroom of twelve months 
 ago. 
 
 She spread Joe a little lunch, and then sat 
 watching him as he trifled with his knife and 
 fork. " Why, Joe, thou doesn t eat. What s 
 t matter wi thee ? And thou doesn t look 
 well. Try and eat a bit, my lad." 
 
 " I am not hungry, Aunt Martha ; and I m a 
 bit worried beside." 
 
 " Now then, Joe, if t worry is about Edith 
 Braithwaite don t tell me. I hevn t a word to 
 say between a man and his wife." 
 
 " It is not about Edith. It is about work." 
 
 " Work ! Now thou caps me ! Whativer hes 
 thou to do ? " 
 
 " That is the trouble. I have nothing to do. 
 I am wearied to death for want of work. 
 Going to hunts and dinners and balls isn t 
 work. I don t know how men manage to 
 spend all their seventy-five years amusing them 
 selves." 
 
 " Ay, lad ; and at t end they ll hev to ac 
 count for t time. God isn t g-oinsr to take this
 
 108 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 for a good bill o reckoning, Item : spent 
 upon my awn pleasures a my life long. 
 
 " I am tired of living for amusement, Aunt 
 Martha; I am ashamed of it." 
 
 " Well, then, it is t best news I hev heard 
 o* thee for a long time. What is ta going to 
 do? Thinking isn t much use. What is ta going 
 to do?" 
 
 " I do not know." 
 
 " Then try and find out. Isn t thy awn busi 
 ness good enough for thee ? " 
 
 " I spoke once about it, but Edith will not 
 hear tell of such a thing. I should have to 
 begin in Leeds again ; there is no nearer place. 
 I did not succeed before, what hope is there 
 for me now ? Every one would say, his own 
 wife does not trust him with her affairs, how 
 can we trust him? " 
 
 "Isn t ta going to manage Bradley Manor 
 next year? " 
 
 " I shall not ask for it ; and Perkins has 
 succeeded in making Edith believe it will be 
 ruin for any one but himself to manage it. 
 You see, Perkins s father had it in his hands 
 before Bradley bought the place. And Edith 
 dreads change. If Bradley were in my care, I
 
 THINGS THAT TROUBLE. 109 
 
 should have a hard time, I think. She would 
 be fearful of all I did, and perhaps going 
 quietly to Perkins for advice. You can see 
 how it would be likely to make trouble between 
 us. That is the reason I do not urge my right 
 to control it. Edith has a very poor opinion 
 of my business ability ; perhaps she is right, 
 aunt. I am a bit of a failure, so far, I think." 
 
 " Thou art nowt of t sort. Thou hes been 
 in t wrong road, and doing t wrong work, 
 and nobody can mak wrong come out 
 right. Thou hesn t either t head or t heart 
 fit for one. Can ta talk out o both sides o thy 
 mouth like Tom Halifax can ? Can ta bam 
 boozle folk as Perkins can, till they arn t 
 sure whether they can add two and two 
 together unless he shows em t way to do it?" 
 
 " Very well ; if I am not a lawyer, what 
 am I?" 
 
 " I suppose thou art what folks call a gentle 
 man at present. But I don t think that is what 
 thou hes a taste for. Thou wer meant to be a 
 man, and do a man s work. Thy brains are 
 spinning brains, and thy hands are spinning 
 hands, and thousud be in Bevin Mill thisvarry 
 minute. Why-a ! when thou was but ten years
 
 no MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 old thou tried to mak a loom, and as for dyeing 
 yarns, thou kept me in a mortal fright wi thy 
 experiments when ta was learning chemistry." 
 
 " Yet you wanted me to be a preacher ? " 
 
 " Ay, but that s a different thing. Each man 
 hes a talent for one special kind o handy 
 work ; but ivery man ought to hev a talent for 
 serving God." 
 
 "And when I said I would not go to the 
 mill, you said I was right, and stood by me." 
 
 " For sure I did ; and I m not t first woman 
 that iver set her temper above her reason. I 
 sud hev hed sense enough to put things on 
 their right footing. I sud hev reasoned t 
 matter out like this : Amos Braithwaite is 
 aggravatingly masterful, and Joe is going 
 against him just because he is determined to 
 show he ll hev some o his awn way. Going to 
 t mill was t biggest thing thou could cross thy 
 father in, and young men of twenty-two like to 
 feel their liberty to mak or mar their life as it 
 pleases them. And I wer a bit tired mysen 
 o thy father s hectoring, and whenta said thou 
 wouldn t go to t mill, I wer bound to stand by 
 thee, right or wrong." 
 
 " But you thought I was right? "
 
 THINGS THAT TROUBLE. HI 
 
 " Sometimes I thought thou was right, 
 sometimes I feared thou was wrong. And a 
 few months ago I met Tony Warps and John 
 Thomas Mason, thy old companions, and they 
 told me that thou hed allays said to them thou 
 wert going into Bevin Mill ; and they reck 
 oned it took t breath from them with surprise 
 when they heard o thee taking up with t law 
 business. So ta sees I hev been putting this 
 and that together, and I hev come^ to t con- 
 elusion that t law wer just a suggestion of t 
 devil s that night when thee and thy father 
 were quarreling." 
 
 " Well, it is past remedy now." 
 
 " I don t think so at all. At t last end a 
 man can allays go in for politics and Par 
 liament. I sud think law and politics would 
 be ringer and thumb. But I ll tell thee what, 
 Joe, thou isn t made for running wi dogs, nor 
 dawdling after ladies, no, nor even for carrying 
 Mrs. Braithwaite s purse, and looking after her 
 fences. Thou hes thy awn work to do. And 
 now that thou art sick o playing t fine gentle 
 man, I think thou will do it." 
 
 " If I only knew what my work was ! " 
 
 " Look about thee. Don t tak t first
 
 H2 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 thought that comes into thy head. First 
 thoughts are mostly foolish ones. If thy tem 
 per would hev let thee hold thy tongue that 
 night thou said thou would be a lawyer thy 
 second thought wouldn t hev made a fool of 
 thee." 
 
 " But everyday is of importance to me now." 
 
 " Ay, thou art right in a general way. Every 
 day is a little life, my lad. Old Jacob num 
 bered his life by days, and Moses asked God to 
 teach him t same kind of arithmetic, to num 
 ber, not his years, but his days. Joe, thou will 
 do well yet. I hev heart trust in thee. But 
 don t thee forget among bigger things to eat 
 thy meat and tak thy sleep. Grandest plans 
 that were iver made hang a good deal on eating 
 and sleeping. Thou hasn t eat any thing worth 
 speaking of." 
 
 " I was not hungry, Aunt Martha ; and I 
 sleep well enough. I am not one to let day s 
 worry drive away night s sleep." 
 
 " Thou would be a fool if ta did. Any man 
 lives miserable that lies down at night like a 
 camel under his burden. Is ta going? Well, 
 God bless thee ! And after all, Joe, t varry
 
 THINGS THAT TROUBLE. 113 
 
 best advice I hev for thee is, Commit thy way 
 unto the Lord, and if He directs thy path, 
 then, my dear lad, thou will be well provided 
 for both worldSc"
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 LIFE AT BRADLEY COURT. 
 
 itfow let us thank the Eternal power, 
 
 That oft the cloud which wraps the present hour 
 
 Serves but to brighten all our future days. 
 
 /appy are they that hear their own detractions and can put 
 them to mending. SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 IF the conception of all good resolutions 
 met with no hindrances, but progressed 
 steadily towards their realization, how broad 
 and easy would be the path of progress. But 
 the rule seems to be a persistent set of all 
 unfavorable elements against any effort whose 
 goal is a loftier ideal. In the first place Joe s 
 aspirations were yet vague and unformed. 
 Only one point was determinate in his mind 
 his independence. 
 
 He foresaw, even thus early, that if he con 
 tinued a passive sharer of Edith s wealth she) 
 would learn to regard him with something very 
 like contempt. He did not blame her much.
 
 LIFE AT BRADLEY COURT, 115 
 
 He felt that in their case the natural order of 
 reliance had been reversed. When they were 
 lovers this condition had been invested with 
 a certain glamour. Edith was then in a royal 
 mood. All that she had was too little for 
 Joe s deserts; besides, for there is generally a 
 weak spot in our grandest resignations, she did 
 not think it likely that Joe s father would be 
 long at variance with his only child. And she 
 had heard of the wealth of Amos Braithwaite. 
 At the end, she felt assured, she would have 
 done very well for herself. 
 
 The attitude Amos took at their marriage 
 was a disappointment to her ; but in the honey 
 moon days it was a circumstance to be treated 
 lightly, and even hopefully. She still expected 
 some wonder of forgiveness and generosity 
 from her husband s father. She thought any 
 reasonable man would look over the offence of 
 a son who had brought him so desirable a 
 daughter-in-law. 
 
 But as week after week went by, her feeling 
 toward Amos became an actively angry one. 
 She considered herself insulted by his attitude. 
 She began to fear that the threat of Joe s dis 
 inheritance was one the old man meant to>
 
 Il6 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 carry out. And whenever she had any small 
 losses, or was fretted about money matters, she 
 made little speeches of spite and disappoint 
 ment about him. 
 
 Joe would not listen to them. In spite of 
 their foolish quarrel, he had a strong affection 
 for his father. Also, he looked at the quarrel 
 from a man s standpoint. Women threaten 
 the greatest extremities, and forget every 
 threat in the concession they want. But Joe 
 expected his father to do precisely as he had 
 declared he would do. He would have been 
 quite as much astonished as pleased if Amos 
 had " backed out " of the position he had taken. 
 And Edith had frequently been told so, only 
 a woman s desire is her conviction. So, in 
 spite of Joe s assurances, she persisted in be 
 lieving that the dispute between father and son 
 was a passing affair. She urged him to try 
 and meet his father, to give him an opportunity 
 to see and to speak to him. 
 
 "You could pass him between here and 
 Leeds any market day, and you ought to try 
 to do so, Joe," she urged. " I am sure all that 
 is needed for a reconciliation is an interview." 
 
 "I don t think so. Edith. If I happened to
 
 LIFE AT BRADLEY COURT. n? 
 
 meet father when he was in a certain temper, 
 he would pass me without a look ; and if 
 he did it once, he would never retreat from 
 that attitude. I don t want to bring things to 
 such a plight between us. It is better not to 
 force events. And I could not deceive fatner. 
 He would know it was not an accidental 
 meeting, and if he spoke at all it would 
 probably be to ask me what I was dogging him 
 round for." 
 
 " He must be a brute." 
 
 " No, he is not a brute. He is a stubborn 
 man who thinks a deal of his word. He would 
 stand to it though it meant ruin to him. 
 There are plenty of men like him. I don t 
 know but in his place I should do the same. 
 And it s a capital thing to feel certain where 
 you have a man, even though he is dead set 
 against you." 
 
 The tendency of such conversations was to 
 gradually increase the plainness and the tem 
 per of their remarks ; and Joe felt all the bit 
 terness of a wrangle which touched lives so 
 close to him, and which, unfortunately, seemed 
 to spring from his peculiar attitude to both. 
 
 Yet his situation was so fenced in by social
 
 n& MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 bonds and obligations, by uncertainties of vari 
 ous kinds, by restricted outlets, and want of 
 ready money, that the way into life s larger 
 lists was hard to find. 
 
 The summer months passed away, and he 
 could do nothing. Edith was in ill-health ; 
 she went to Moffat and Matlock, and she would 
 go nowhere without Joe. But even amid the 
 idlers and pleasure-seekers around him, a steady 
 purpose was hourly growing in the young hus 
 band s heart. Vague as the first sprouts of 
 some unknown plant it might be ; but there 
 was life in it, and the intent of perfect growth. 
 
 In his position the avenues leading to inde 
 pendence were not very many ; but the most 
 impracticable of them found a calm, favorable 
 welcome in Joe s consciousness. There was, 
 as Martha Thrale had suggested, politics. He 
 could, doubtless, make a good run for Parlia 
 ment, but even in that effort he would be be 
 tween the horns of a dilemma. Edith was an 
 intense Conservative. Amos was an intense 
 Radical. He could not employ his wife s 
 money against her own party and prejudices. 
 And, though Perkins made him understand 
 that money would be forthcoming if he took
 
 LIFE AT BRADLEY COURT. 119 
 
 the Radical side, Joe did not like the idea of 
 an election quarrel on his own hearthstone. 
 
 He thought of a commission in the army. 
 He thought of borrowing money and building 
 a mill. He thought, in a furtive and frightened 
 way, of California, Australia, Canada, India. 
 Edith would have been shocked if she could 
 have divined what sombre speculations made 
 her husband so quiet among the crowds at 
 Moffat or in his own rooms at Bradley. 
 
 The next winter was a wretchedly dull one 
 to him. He had withdrawn from the hunts 
 and clubs and dinner parties of the previous 
 season. Edith had counted up their cost with 
 ugly knittings of her black, handsome brows, 
 and Joe had no mind for festivities which she 
 would neither share nor approve, and which 
 were likely to be preceded and followed by 
 domestic disputes. 
 
 But as Nature sets herself instantly to repair 
 any wounded part of the body, so some higher 
 Power, if we would but notice it, speedily turns 
 our mistakes this side and that side, until good 
 can be wrought from some of their phases. 
 The days were interminable to Joe, so he took 
 to study. Chemistry had always fascinated
 
 1 2 o MA i" TER OF HIS FA l L . 
 
 him ; he fitted up a small laboratory, and soon 
 forgot every thing in the charm of his experi 
 ments and hoped-for discoveries. It is true, 
 they were usually futile and disappointing, as 
 well as expensive, but hope sprang from every 
 failure, and Edith had sense enough to under 
 stand that these things were far more economi 
 cal than many other sources of recreation open 
 to bored and weary men. 
 
 As for herself, she felt no ennui. Independent 
 of the charge which she shared with Perkins, 
 she had her house an 1 her conservatory, her 
 toilet and her visitors, her embroidery and her 
 stated charities, besides a very large family of 
 pet animals and birds. Her days were too 
 short for all the small cares that filled them. 
 And these she would gladly have shared with 
 Joe, but to him they were insignificant and un 
 interesting. How could a man on the verge of 
 discovering a new color feel an ardent pleasure 
 in the curls of a pup or the right shades of 
 green for a worsted parrot ? 
 
 The early part of the third year of their mar 
 riage was brightened by an event which for a 
 time merged all interests in itself. Edith had 
 a son, and it seemed as if the whole neighbor-
 
 LIFE A T BRA DLE Y CO UK T. 1 2 1 
 
 hood was delighted to rejoice with Bradley 
 Court. The young mother and the beautiful 
 boy enjoyed for a few weeks a prominence very 
 pleasant to Edith, and for the time she con 
 sidered herself an exceptionally happy woman. 
 
 But however proud and fond Joe was of his 
 firstborn son, the babe could not fill his life in 
 the same way as it filled the mother s life. Its 
 advent had softened his heart, and made him 
 think a great deal of his own father, but in a 
 few weeks he went back with a fresh delight to 
 his books and retorts. Even for the child s 
 sake he did not wish to be a mere idler and 
 looker-on among the world s workers. 
 
 Fully to his own heart, and partly to Martha 
 Thrale, he had admitted the mistake made upon 
 that unhappy night when he flung away his 
 father s love and his fine inheritance for the 
 gratification of his personal pride and selfwill. 
 But the fit of inaction and despair which usually 
 follows such awakenings was a short one in 
 Joe s case. He was not disposed to look upon 
 his mistake as an irrevocable one. He had 
 been twice on the verge of a discovery which 
 promised him at least the foundation of a for 
 tune ; and he was one of those men who can
 
 122 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 dog after an idea with a patience that is al 
 most genius. 
 
 Joe was gradually working his way towards 
 that stile which Providence intended him to 
 cross, but he had every step of the intervening 
 road to take, the hard and the easy, the hope 
 ful and the despairing. Now and then there 
 were days in which Edith expressed a little in 
 terest in his studies and efforts, and then he 
 was full of enthusiasm ; but more often she 
 was scornful at his failures or fretted by their 
 waste and inutility. 
 
 The neighbors with whom Joe had been 
 such a favorite talked over the change in him 
 with a tolerant contempt. Some divined the 
 truth, and thought him wise to retire from a 
 position only to be retained by his wife s con 
 cession. Others attributed his strange taste to 
 the inherited vulgarity of his descent. " He is 
 a born tradesman, with mechanical aptitudes," 
 they said. " He has gone naturally to the 
 dyeing vats, and will eventually go back to the 
 looms." The air and tone of the remark was a 
 compliment to their own superior tastes, and 
 in the feeling of self-satisfaction it induced 
 they rather pitied Joe, especially as their wives
 
 LTFE AT BRADLEY COURT. 123 
 
 were inclined to say those disagreeable things 
 of Mrs. Joe which naturally engage the sym 
 pathies of more fortunate husbands. 
 
 One morning, when the child was four 
 months old, Edith said, " The bishop is to be 
 here in a month ; suppose we christen baby at 
 this visitation." 
 
 <; I think it would be a very good thing to 
 do. The little chap ought to be made a Chris 
 tian as soon as possible." 
 
 " I shall send to London for a robe for him. 
 And we must have a dinner to honor the event. 
 About the name now." 
 
 " Yes ; about the name." 
 
 " I think he ought to be called after my 
 father." 
 
 " Why so ?" 
 
 " Well, he will be heir to all father made." 
 
 " I hope I may also make something for 
 him." 
 
 " Out of jars and retorts ? " 
 
 " Don t be scornful, Edith. Many a retort 
 has left a fine residuum of gold at the bottom." 
 
 " I say he ought to be called Luke." 
 
 " I would rather you chose any other name." 
 
 "Why?"
 
 124 .MASTER UF HIS FATE. 
 
 11 A man who bore that name did my father 
 a great many wrongs. I am sure he would 
 regard our giving it to the child as an insult to 
 himself." 
 
 " Ridiculous ! Do you wish him called 
 Amos ? " 
 
 " It might be a good thing to call him Amos, 
 but I will not ask such a favor as that of you. 
 I only stipulate not to call the boy Luke. Any 
 other name will do." 
 
 " I have made up my mind to call him 
 Luke." 
 
 "I am sorry to disappoint you, Edith, but I 
 will not allow my son to bear that name." 
 
 He spoke with a decision that made Edith 
 look with wonder at him, and the set calmness 
 of his face irritated her. She reiterated her 
 resolve with much warmth, " I shall certainly 
 call him Luke." 
 
 " Then I shall certainly contradict, even at 
 the altar, any godfather who gives him that 
 name. I hope you will spare yourself, and me, 
 such a scene in church ; and also consider what 
 an unpleasant event it would be to remember 
 against the child." 
 
 " You durst not do such a thing."
 
 LIFE AT JJ RAD LEY COURT. 125 
 
 " Do not trust to that opinion, Edith. I 
 solemnly assure you that I will contradict the 
 sponsor, whoever he may be, that calls my son 
 Luke." 
 
 " If he is not to be called Luke v I will not 
 have him christened at all." 
 
 " As you please. There are scores of good 
 English names. Why need you select the only 
 one that will give pain and offence ? " 
 
 " Luke was my dear dead father s name." 
 
 " By calling our son Luke you can not please 
 his dead grandfather, and you will surely trou 
 ble and anger his living grandfather. Choose 
 any other name and I will agree to it." 
 
 " He shall be Luke, christened or unchris- 
 tened." 
 
 " He shall at least not be christened Luke. 
 That I can and will prevent." 
 
 Then he turned to his books, and Edith left 
 the room with a determination to carry her 
 point. But a little reflection convinced her 
 that Joe in this case was not to be trifled with. 
 She had seen him in the same mood several 
 times, and she had never known him to recede 
 a letter from the text of his threat. She did 
 not wish to bring their private quarrel to an
 
 126 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 issue before the clergy and the congregation, 
 so the christening of the child was indefinitely 
 put off. 
 
 But this dispute saddened Joe beyond all 
 former ones. It was evident to him that the 
 mistake made in his life had the power to pro 
 ject itself throughout it, and blight all his 
 sweetest and most personal joys. He suddenly 
 felt an invincible distaste for his study and his 
 work. He saw that there was no redeeming 
 power i.n it. 
 
 For three weeks he was very miserable mis 
 erable because he felt so hopeless. And three 
 weeks looks a dreary time to a soul without 
 hope or purpose, though he who shapes the 
 destinies of men for eternity makes these pain 
 ful pauses in life no longer, doubtless, than is 
 absolutely necessary to enable the dead hopes 
 to bury their dead, and animate the living ones 
 to some newer and better purpose. 
 
 At any rate, at the end of three weeks a re 
 action came. He was sitting in his laboratory, 
 but he was not working. He had not kindled 
 a light for many days. He was telling himself 
 that he was still stumbling on a wrong road. 
 "At the best I have but blundered upon a few
 
 LIFE AT BRADLEY COURT. 127 
 
 facts that are useless without their connecting 
 links ; well, then, Joe Braithwaite, try again ! 
 You must go back to your father, sir, rather 
 than be beat." 
 
 When he had reached this resolution Edith 
 entered. She had an open letter in her hand, 
 and she looked so handsome and had such a 
 grand way with her that Joe could not help 
 noticing and admiring her beauty. " How much 
 I could have loved her," he thought, " if I had 
 been the owner of Bradley Manor, and she had 
 had nothing but her love and her beauty to 
 give me." 
 
 Her first words, however, had in them that 
 unfortunate pleasantry which always irritated 
 Joe. 
 
 " I am come as a client, Mr. Braithwaite, if 
 you have not forgotten your law, and have time 
 to attend to my case." 
 
 " Don t chaff me, Edith. You know I have 
 plenty of time. I have nothing else but time. 
 Sit down. I shall be glad if I can do you any 
 real service." 
 
 They sat down together with a dreary polite 
 ness. Edith thought she had been snubbed. 
 Joe had an equally unpleasant feeling. Then
 
 128 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 Edith touched the letter, and said, " It is from 
 Sykes, of Manchester. He offers to buy the 
 house I own there. He says he will give me 
 ;io,ooo for it. What do you think of the 
 offer?" 
 
 "If the house is worth 10,000 to him, it is 
 very probably worth more to you. Have you 
 asked Perkins ? " 
 
 " Perkins is in London. Sykes urges an im 
 mediate answer. Will you go to Manchester 
 and see about it ? I don t like trading with 
 Sykes at a distance. When he is on the spot, 
 he has us at an unfair disadvantage." 
 
 " Yes, I will go, if you wish it." 
 
 "You will get all the papers relating to the 
 property at Perkins s office ; and if you want 
 any advice " 
 
 " I don t want any advice. I know my busi 
 ness as well as most lawyers do." 
 
 " Of course. Then you will go to-morrow 
 morning ? " 
 
 " I will get the papers, and leave for Man 
 chester to-morrow morning."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 JOE S FORTH PUT. 
 
 Fate was not mine, nor am I Fate s : 
 Souls know no conquerors. DRYDEN. 
 
 Money, being the common scale 
 Of things by measure, weight, and tale, 
 In all the affairs of Church and State, 
 Is both the balance and the weight. 
 
 HUDIBRAS. 
 
 SO Joe rode over to Market-Bevin and pro 
 cured the papers relating to the Manches 
 ter property. He lingered a little in the familiar 
 streets of the place, and looked with interest 
 and with some vague regrets at the old Hall 
 where he had certainly spent more than twenty 
 very happy years. With still more interest he 
 passed the mill that might have been his own. 
 Its massive masonry trembled with the titanic 
 labors of steam and machinery. From hun 
 dreds of open windows came the hum m of 
 the wheels, and the great chimney seemed to
 
 13 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 be consciously proud of its height, and of the 
 volumes of smoke it cast out into the blue 
 mid-air. 
 
 The ponderous gates were shut. No visitors, 
 no idlers, no curious people, were wanted in 
 Bevin Mill. Business only procured an admis 
 sion there, and Joe had no business now with 
 its master. And yet he longed to see him. 
 He took the road past Bevin Mill twice, though 
 it was a little out of his way ; but the tightly 
 shut gates depressed him ; they seemed to 
 typify the inflexibility of his father s angry 
 determination. 
 
 And as he rode home through the lonely 
 lanes a purpose that had often drifted through 
 his mind assumed a positive form. He began 
 to consider it as practicable ; he decided to 
 follow it out. But the decision was an im 
 portant one, and its very consideration impart 
 ed a solemn and resolute air to his face and 
 manner. 
 
 Suddenly, as he turned into the high road, he 
 met his father. Amos was in his gig. He was 
 reconsidering a bargain he had made, and was 
 oblivious to such an unimportant matter as his 
 horse s speed ; so the animal was placidly jog-
 
 JOE S FORTH PUT. 13 1 
 
 ging along at the pace most comfortable to him 
 self. It was one which gave Amos no excuse 
 for passing his son, and perhaps he did not wish 
 to pass him, for when Joe said, "Why, father! 
 How are you ? This is a bit of luck to meet 
 you! "the old man s face brightened, and he 
 answered, " I m well enough, Joe. How art 
 thou getting along?" 
 
 " Very well, father." 
 
 " I daresay. And how is my daughter-in- 
 law? She doesn t think much o me, eh? And 
 I hear thou hes a son o thy awn. Mebbe now 
 thou will come to find out that fathers hev 
 some feelings. Whativer brought thee this 
 road ? " 
 
 " I was at Market-Bevin. I passed the mill 
 twice in hopes of seeing you." 
 
 " Nay, then, I don t stand at t gates watch 
 ing folks pass. Was ta at Perkins s?" 
 
 "Yes. I went to his office for some papers 
 about a bit of property in Manchester. I am 
 going there to-morrow to sell it, if the price 
 offered be a fair one." 
 
 " My word, Joe ! I wish to goodness owd 
 Luke Bradley knew thou wer buying and selling 
 t property he scraffled and scraped for. I think
 
 I3 2 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 it would be a punishment as would pay for a 
 few of his meannesses. Well, my lad, good 
 night to thee ! Say, Joe, what is ta goin to 
 call thy son? I ll bet thee a shilling Mrs. Joe 
 will be givin him her father s name." 
 
 " I d let him go without a name at all before 
 I d have him called Luke." 
 
 " Thet s right, Joe ! Thet s as it should be. 
 I was a bit bothered at the thought of a Luke 
 Bradley Braithwaite. It doesn t sound right, 
 does it ? And I kept thinking to mysen, if 
 Joe tacks a rascal s name before Braithwaite, it 
 will be a shabby thing to do. " 
 
 "Joe wouldn t do it, father; n^c for all the 
 money Bradley left. If I had my way I would 
 call him Amos. He s a fine little fellow, and 
 he wouldn t be any thing but an honor to the 
 best name going." 
 
 " Would ta really call him Amos ? Well now, 
 Amos is a varry good name. I niver heard tell 
 of any blackguard called Amos, and happen it 
 might be a good thing for t little chap, happen 
 it might. I must hurry a bit now, Joe. Good 
 night to thee." 
 
 " Shake hands, father, do ! " 
 
 " Why-a! I hev no objections. I m none o
 
 JOE S FORTHPUT. 133 
 
 them unreasonable fathers that can t see good 
 as well as bad in a son. Thou vexed me in 
 one thing, and thou hes pleased me middlin 
 well in another. I sail strike a just balance 
 between thee and me, Joe." 
 
 Then he leaned forward and grasped Joe s 
 hand, and if the young fellow had only thought 
 to bend down his handsome head, doubtless 
 Amos would have done involuntarily as the 
 tender Judean father embraced and kissed 
 him. But neither of the men were naturally 
 demonstrative, and both were slightly embar 
 rassed even by the advance made. So they 
 parted quickly, and with less warmth of manner 
 than might have been expected ; but the 
 warmth was at their hearts, and Amos found 
 himself humming the only song he knew when 
 he stopped at the mill gates. 
 
 The next morning Joe left for Manchester. 
 Edith had really intended to make the trip a 
 pleasure to her husband, and send him off 
 under cheerful auspices. But women with 
 nursing babies cannot be sure of their moods 
 early in the morning. The child had been 
 restless all night. She could not trust the 
 nurse, and she lost her own sleep. In conse-
 
 134 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 quence, she had a headache and was fretful and 
 nervous and quite unable to command the 
 smiles and pleasant words she had intended to 
 give. 
 
 But Joe was hardly conscious of her silence 
 and her irresponsive way. Perhaps he ought 
 to have been ; ought to have understood her 
 languor, and the evident marks of suffering on 
 her face. A word of sympathy might have 
 brought sunshine and exchange of courtesies 
 and confidences. But Joe had many things on 
 his mind, and Edith s lassitude and reticence in 
 the morning were familiar conditions to 
 him. 
 
 " Good-bye, dear Edith." He took her 
 hands and kissed her with a tenderness which 
 touched the weary woman. At the last moment 
 she made an effort to be sweet and loving, but 
 a leaden weight was on every emotion ; and 
 she took his farewell with a passive apathy 
 which very little expressed her real affection. 
 For she was in the power of a contradictious 
 listlessness, the result of a physical condition 
 she was hardly to be blamed for. And oh ! 
 how many a household quarrel, miserable in its 
 results, arises from causes as really unoffending
 
 JOE S FORTHPUT. 135 
 
 in intent and as little within the control of 
 women who are physically exhausted. 
 
 At the door Joe suddenly turned and asked 
 for his son. Under a hurried protest the 
 child was brought sleeping. He kissed and 
 laid him in his mother s arms, and Edith saw 
 there were tears in his father s eyes as he turned 
 away. She was dimly troubled by the circum 
 stance. Joe was only going on a short journey ; 
 he would return in a few days. She had not 
 understood before that he cared so much for 
 the child. 
 
 For the first hour or two, Joe enjoyed the 
 simple sense of perfect freedom. He was 
 alone. He was not afraid of offending, either 
 by omitting to do something he should have 
 done, or by doing something which he ought 
 not to have done. The air was fresh and 
 exhilarating, the sense of motion and of change 
 delightful. He enjoyed these things with the 
 healthy physical enjoyment natural to a young 
 and perfectly healthy man. But, ere long, he 
 withdrew himself from mere outside influences ; 
 his eyes became thoughtful, his mouth settled 
 into firm, definite curves, there was an air of
 
 I3 6 MASTER OF flIS FATE, 
 
 purpose and resolution, in every movement he 
 made. 
 
 Arriving at Manchester, he first of all devoted 
 his attention to his wife s interests. After their 
 satisfactory settlement Joe had business of his 
 own to attend to. It took him to Spinning- 
 Jenny street, a locality full of warehouses. In 
 a few minutes he stood opposite the largest 
 one. It bore the sign of Samuel Yorke and Sons. 
 There was a link between himself and that 
 warehouse ; one, as yet, uncertain and untried, 
 but he intended to test its strength. 
 
 Samuel Yorke was his godfather. The rela 
 tionship had indeed been merely a nominal 
 one, filled by proxy, and acknowledged only by 
 handsome presents of baby plate and jewelry ; 
 but it was connected with memories stretching 
 much further back. For Amos Braithwaite 
 and Samuel Yorke had been close companions 
 in those days when both boys sold papers in 
 Bradford Market ; and Joe knew that in every 
 great event touching either of their lives, letters 
 of sympathy passed between Bevin Hall and 
 Manchester. 
 
 He had never seen his godfather, and he 
 knew nothing of his character ; but he looked
 
 JOE S FORTHPUT. 13? 
 
 at the sign above the door, and felt his fears 
 fade and his hopes rise. For its very reten 
 tion there argued a true and tender heart, since 
 the firm was no longer " Samuel Yorke and 
 Sons." Eight years previous, about the time 
 Joe and his father separated, Samuel Yorke s 
 two sons were killed with their mother, in a 
 railway accident. Eight years ! and yet the 
 father had not brought himself to remove the 
 sign put up with such happy anticipations just 
 before their untimely end. At that time Amos 
 had written to his friend, and told him to 
 be thankful that he hadn t a living sorrow 
 instead of a dead one. " Thy two sons," he 
 said, " followed thee in all things, and were 
 proud to put their names with thine, but I 
 have a lad, disobedient and wilful, who has 
 disappointed every hope I have had for twenty 
 years." 
 
 After looking at the sign a few moments, 
 Joe pushed aside the door and found himself 
 in a long room full of tables piled high with 
 printed calicoes. It was a dusty, dusky place 
 with an oily smell ; and, in spite of the number 
 of clerks and salesmen, exceedingly quiet. He 
 asked for Mr. Yorke, and was directed to an
 
 I3 8 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 inner room whose door he opened. When he 
 did so, Yorke stood facing him. 
 
 He was a small, thin man in shabby clothing, 
 with an old hat pushed backward from his 
 forehead. But there was an unmistakable look 
 of master and millionaire about him. He was 
 standing at a table on which lay freshly-opened 
 letters, most of them containing samples of 
 cotton ; and as he pulled the snowy fibre 
 slowly through his fingers he was softly singing 
 a Methodist hymn. He looked up with a bit 
 of long staple in his hand, when Joe entered, 
 and stopped at the end of the line : 
 
 There is a land of pure delight, 
 
 and looked curiously at Joe. He knew him 
 ere Joe had time to introduce himself, and said : 
 " Why ! Thou must be Amos Braithwaite s 
 son. Downsitting and uprising, thou are thy 
 father s varry likeness." 
 
 "Yes, sir; I am Joe Braithwaite." 
 " For sure, and my godson. I m glad to see 
 thee; sit tha down. Whativer lias brought thee 
 to Spinning-Jenny street ? There s no wool 
 here for you West Riding men ; it is a this 
 stuff, lad," and he gathered the samples of 
 cotton, with a swift movement, together, look-
 
 JOE S FORTHPUT. 139 
 
 ing almost lovingly at the " stuff " as he did so. 
 
 " Well, godfather, I didn t come to buy either 
 cotton or wool. I came to sell a bit of prop 
 erty that belonged to my wife." 
 
 "To be sure ! Thou married Luke Bradley s 
 daughter. I heard a about it ; a rich lass. I 
 knew Bradley varry well, too well, happen ; he 
 was a hard man. He had property all over. 
 Whativer did he awn in Manchester ? " 
 
 "The house next the Queen s Hotel. Sykes 
 was the agent for it. You know Sykes ? " 
 
 " I sud think I do." 
 
 " He wrote and offered us .10,000 for it." 
 
 " Too little, far too little." 
 
 " Yes ; I sold it to the proprietor of the hotel 
 for 22,000." 
 
 " That s far more like t proper figure. But 
 Sykes willallus feel as if thou had cheated him 
 out of 12,000. He s that kind, is Sykes. Well 
 Joe, thou must stay wi me to-night. I want 
 to hev a long talk wi thee." 
 
 " Eh, but I want to stay with you much 
 longer than to-night ? " 
 
 " Well, tha s welcome in reason, ta knows. 
 But whativer is ta going to stay F Manchester 
 for?"
 
 140 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 " I want to apprentice myself to you. I want 
 to learn your business from A to Z." 
 
 " Thou tak s my breath. I thought thou wer 
 a lawyer, learned and licensed ? " 
 
 " I am a very poor lawyer, and I never shall 
 be any better one. I took to the law out of 
 pure contradiction, and I never made 100 
 by it. I want to be a cotton spinner." 
 
 " Why not go to thy father and learn to be a 
 wool spinner? One kind is as good as t other. 
 And thou would be near Bradley and thy 
 wife and child. What does it a mean, 
 Joe ? " 
 
 " I will tell you if you care to hear." 
 
 "To be sure I do ; only, I ll hev no half con 
 fidences. Tell me iverything or tell me noth 
 ing, t bad as well as t good." 
 
 Joe was only too thankful to have some sen 
 sible kind man to open his heart to. He did 
 not spare himself in any respect. Yorke 
 listened patiently, watching the young man s 
 mobile, expressive face with a good deal of in 
 terest, but never interrupting his confession. 
 W T hen Joe had finished, he said, "Thou hes 
 gone wrong iver since thou left thy father. 
 That was thy first wrong step."
 
 JOE S FORTHPUT. 141 
 
 " It was not all my fault. Father is so 
 masterful." 
 
 "Well, then, he is master. And it was thy 
 fault. Honor thy father. That is t com 
 mandment, as I read it. Men s laws have so 
 many provisions and amendments and what 
 nots that they need a lawyer to mak head or 
 tail of them. God s laws are, do this and don t 
 do that. A man, though a fool, can understand 
 them. " It is honor thy father. That is 
 plain enough." 
 
 " But if a father is wrong, or " 
 
 "It is honor thy father ; good, bad, or 
 indifferent. There are no ifs in that com 
 mand." 
 
 "A father may be tyrannical, unreasonable, 
 unkind, unjust 
 
 " For sure, I reckon t Almighty knew there 
 would be them kind o fathers ; and he didn t 
 make any exceptions. But I say that thy father 
 is none o them. Go to him, and ask him to 
 tak thee prentice." 
 
 " It would be no use. He told me I should 
 never have part nor lot in Bevin Mill, and 
 when father says a thing in the way he did 
 then"
 
 I4 2 MASTJSS DF HIS FATE. 
 
 " 1 knoiv ; he ll be as stubborn as if stub. 
 bornncss were his religion." 
 
 " As to my wife 
 
 " As to thy wife, I don t blame her. Women 
 talk a deal about love, and lots of feelings with 
 varry fine names, but I tak notice that they 
 think the most of t man that can mak money. 
 It is varry well for a rich man to marry a poor 
 girl, and give her iverything he hes ; that s 
 natural, and she tak s iraturally to it ; but when 
 a rich woman marries a poor man, that s a varry 
 different thing. And, putting this and that to- 
 gether, Mrs. Braithwaite hasn t done so badly, I 
 think. As soon as ta gets to making money 
 she ll be a model wife, I sud think." 
 
 " I do not like to associate my wife with such 
 opinions. Why should she think more of me 
 if I were making money? 
 
 " Because money is only t visible result of a 
 great many qualities women like men to hev, 
 pluck, patience, good sense, good manners, in 
 dustry, and what not. I ll tell thee what, Joe, 
 when ta sees a man that is a first-rate money 
 maker, ta sees a man that is capable o doing 
 lots of other things, better than most men can. 
 I wouldn t be proud of heving made money if
 
 JOE S FORTHPUT. 143 
 
 I didn t think so. And when a woman sets her 
 heart on a man that can mak money she s 
 more likely to be right than wrong." 
 
 " Very likely ; we won t mind that now. Can 
 I stay with you, and learn how to make money?" 
 
 " Listen now. If I tak thee thou wilt hev to 
 do my way, and not thy awn. I ll hev no fine 
 gentleman prentice. If ta wants to mak thy 
 living \vi clean hands, don t thee come to me. 
 I am at business ivery morning at eight, and I 
 stay till five." 
 
 " Your hours shall be mine, I promise." 
 
 11 Thou must learn a about spinning and 
 weaving ; a about dyes and dyeing ; and thou 
 must tak thy share o t work in t printing 
 room. It is a hard business. Thou wilt be 
 dirty, and hot, and tired most of thy time, and 
 I ll not engage to tak thee for less than two 
 years. Even if ta hes ivery advantage it will be 
 that long anyway." 
 
 " I will agree to all you desire." 
 
 " And thou will hev to live with me." 
 
 "With you?" 
 
 " For sure. If I tak charge o thee, I ll hev 
 thee under my awn roof, and my awn eyes." 
 
 This was more than Joe had contemplated.
 
 144 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 Among the compensations he had promised 
 himself was the lonely freedom of evenings 
 devoted to his own will and way. Yorke saw 
 the momentary hesitation, and explained : 
 " That will suit thee, Joe, and thou wilt soon 
 find out how well, for if thou art as tired as 
 thou ought to be, thou will want no ither thing 
 but thy bed. And if I ask thee to go to t 
 chapel with me on a Sunday, I think in a little 
 while thou will like to go well enough. My 
 own dear lads thought it no hardship ; " and he 
 looked at Joe with such a depth of yearning, 
 sorrowful remembrance in his eyes, that Joe s 
 heart was sincerely touched. 
 
 " It was a great sorrow, wife and sons in one 
 hour," he said softly. " I wonder it did not 
 break your heart." 
 
 " Nay, nay ! Hearts tak a deal o breaking 
 thet hev their trust in God Almighty. Now, 
 then, tell me where ta bides, and go write thy 
 letters and pack thy valise ! " 
 
 " I am at the Queen s Hotel." 
 
 " Get thee ready, then. I ll call for thee soon 
 after five o clock. And I m sure thou wilt do 
 more than well. I can see thou hes plenty o 
 forthput in thee."
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 EDITH S HARD BLOW. 
 
 Not even the tenderest heart, and next our own, 
 Knows half the reason why we smile and sigh. 
 
 Those who inflict must suffer, for they see 
 The work of their own hearts, and that must be 
 Their chastisement. 
 
 IN the meantime, Edith was neither anxious 
 nor unhappy. She had not one of those 
 sensitive, looking-forward souls which feel the 
 shadow of coming events. Presentiments did 
 not visit her ; if they had, she would probably 
 have referred them to some physical cause. 
 Joe s sober, almost solemn farewell and the 
 mist of tears in his eyes, she understood just 
 as little. She was both annoyed and pleased 
 by the circumstance; annoyed, because she 
 had the common English hatred of any thing 
 like a scene, especially before servants, and 
 going to Manchester was not a thing to be
 
 146 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 made an event of. It was not the air of good 
 society. At the same time she was flattered 
 by her husband s evident emotion at their 
 parting. 
 
 "He must be very tond of baby and me," 
 and the thought made her quiet and silent for 
 a little while, and she hoped Joe would have 
 a pleasant time and manage the business he 
 had gone about in such a way as to make any 
 interference of Perkins in it unnecessary. 
 
 Then she turned with a busy interest to the 
 affairs of her household. She had determined 
 to make some changes, and she thought Joe s 
 absence a suitable opportunity. In ordering a 
 staff of tradesmen and servants she was in her 
 element ; it was wonderful how much she got 
 out of every one. And thus employed the 
 days passed rapidly away ; she had no time to 
 speculate and no time to be lonely. 
 
 Joe s first letter was just what she expected 
 it to be. It related only to his journey and to 
 his first impressions of the cotton metropolis 
 of the world. His second referred to the busi 
 ness he had been sent to transact. It was 
 short and sensible, and gave her a feeling of 
 respect for her emissary in the matter. The
 
 EDITH S HARD BLOW. 14? 
 
 third letter, informing her of the sale of the 
 house for more than double the offered price, 
 was a genuine surprise. It came while she was 
 eating dinner and gave her pleasant food for 
 reflection all the evening. 
 
 Perhaps after all she had done Joe an injus 
 tice. Now that she saw a prospect of manag 
 ing without Perkins, she could afford to recall 
 a number of little things in which she was sure 
 he had overreached his proper charges. The 
 total of his last bill had been unusually large. 
 " He is meddlesome, too, and very dictatorial. 
 I ll pay him off, and Joe and I will manage 
 Bradley. It may be a happy thing to do;- at 
 any rate we can try, etc., etc." 
 
 Thus she mused, for there was a real senti 
 ment of regret in her heart, and something 
 more than suspicion that after all she had not 
 given Joe a fair chance. By word and deed 
 she had snubbed him. Practically she had let 
 Perkins snub him also. She was not well 
 pleased at herself, and she was quite angry at 
 Perkins. Poor Joe ! She intended to order 
 events rather differently for him in the future 
 and she meant also to tell him that she had 
 been unjust to him and that she was sorry for
 
 I4 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 it. For though a proud, self-sufficient woman, 
 she was, as such characters often are, essen 
 tially just. 
 
 She was indeed quite eager to begin her 
 reparation. She expected Joe home the next 
 evening, and unusual preparations were made 
 to honor his return. The house had been 
 renovated, and had that festival air which new 
 draperies and decorations give. She ordered 
 an elaborate dinner, and dressed herself and 
 baby with tasteful splendor. For was not Joe 
 coming home in a kind of triumph? He had 
 more than bettered expectation. She wished 
 him to feel that he had done well, and that she 
 was appreciative and grateful. 
 
 As she stood before the glass tying her 
 bonnet-strings, she smiled over her excitement, 
 and the fresh color it had brought to her cheeks 
 and the brilliant light to her eyes. She looked 
 critically at her dress and laces, and changed 
 her ribbons for a set whose tint Joe always 
 admired. There was no mean withdrawing, no 
 keeping back part, no selfish reservation, in 
 Edith s submission. The reparation she in 
 tended to make her husband was to be as per 
 fect as possible. The opportunity she intended
 
 EDITH S HARD BLOW. 149 
 
 give him was to be untrammelled by doubt of 
 interference. 
 
 She went to meet the Manchester train with 
 a heart full of kind and just thoughts. She 
 had no doubt of Joe s arrival, and when she 
 did not see him among the alighting passengers 
 she was so much astonished at her disappoint 
 ment that she could not for a few minutes 
 believe in it. She went home depressed, and 
 an unhappy feeling she could not banish 
 dashed the enthusiasm of all her good intent. 
 
 There was a later train, and she sent the 
 carriage to meet it, but this time she remained 
 at home. It was baby s hour, and besides the 
 first glow of her feelings had been chilled. Joe 
 had failed her. She told herself that whenever 
 she had made some extraordinary effort to 
 brighten and sweeten things between them 
 Joe had always failed her. She had fretted her 
 heart into a no-use-trying temper before the 
 time for the second train, and she made no 
 attempt to renew the pleasant anticipations 
 which had been so promptly disappointed. 
 
 Of course the carriage returned without Joe. 
 The coachman said he could not have been 
 mistaken. Only two gentlemen had left the
 
 15 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 train, Sir Thomas Wilson and Mr. Selby. But 
 there was a letter. The postmistress had given 
 it to him as he passed. 
 
 She took it indifferently, and opened it 
 almost with a feeling of anger at Joe s unneces 
 sary delay. The contents stunned her. She 
 turned sick, and her heart beat as if every throb 
 was its last effort. But there were servants 
 present, and she would not betray herself before 
 them. By a supreme effort she managed to go 
 through the usual form of dinner. 
 
 Then she went to her bedroom and locked 
 the door, and sitting down spread the letter ou 
 before her. Word by word, following tht 
 words with her jewelled forefinger, she read it 
 through : 
 
 " MY DEAR WIFE I hope you are satisfied 
 with the settlement of the Manchester property. 
 I received the money to-day, and forward a 
 cheque for the amount stated in my last, de 
 ducting only the regular charge on the convey 
 ancing, etc. This money I have retained, 
 because I shall not be at home again for two 
 years. To-morrow morning I begin my appren 
 ticeship to Samuel Yorke, cotton spinner and 
 calico printer. I intend to learn the business, 
 in all its processes, practically. I have lived too 
 long upon your bounty, for I have lost your 
 esteem as well as my own ; and I deserve the
 
 EDITH S HARD BLOW. 151 
 
 loss. Please God I will redeem the past, and 
 with His help make a man of myself. When I 
 am worthy of your love, worthy to be your 
 husband, you will respect me ; and until then, 
 think as kindly of me as you can. Even for 
 baby s sake I must try and deserve something 
 more than forbearance, and it is better he 
 should not know me at all, until I can right 
 fully claim it. Dear wife, if you will write 
 often to me, it will strengthen me for my effort, 
 and give me all the hope I need for the future." 
 
 Joe had not been at all satisfied with this 
 letter, but every effort at an explanation of his 
 motives and purpose seemed hopeless; for 
 he had been led to the step he had taken by 
 a complication of causes past and present. So 
 he finally concluded that Edith would be likely 
 to remember all, without his indexing events 
 and influences, and that the shortest letter 
 would be the best one. If there were any thing 
 to be said in his favor her own heart must 
 discover it in order to permanently influence 
 her. 
 
 But every letter has its peculiar atmosphere. 
 It is often quite independent of the words, and 
 much stronger in its influence than they are. 
 Plain and undemonstrative as Joe s letter was, 
 Edith felt that he had put his best and tender- 
 est self into its few lines, and she had to sum-
 
 15 2 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 mon all the strength of her soul to the task of 
 reading them. 
 
 She was white as the paper on which they 
 were written, and she sat for a long time as 
 still as if she had been turned into stone. 
 What would her neighbors say? And all her 
 social equals and friends ? She would get the 
 blame ; women always did. How cruel it was 
 of Joe to place her in such a position ! 
 
 These were her first thoughts, but more un 
 selfish ones soon followed. The very brevity 
 and humility of Joe s letter was a mighty elo 
 quence to her. Fine sentences or reproaches 
 would probably have failed to touch her ; they 
 would at least have roused her to defend her 
 self. Joe had not blamed her ; but her con 
 science did. Every hour it said harder things 
 to her. Joe had unconsciously struck the 
 noblest chord in her nature. And in taking 
 his destiny so calmly and resolutely out of her 
 power he had suddenly become her master. 
 Her old admiration for his beauty, his sunny 
 temper, and kind heart, returned with tenfold 
 power. She had never been as much in love 
 with Joe Braithwaite as she was in that hour,
 
 EDITH S HARD BLOW. 153 
 
 when she knew that he had left her to regain 
 the prerogatives of his manhood. 
 
 But when the first shock passed away she 
 began to reason clearly. She must have advice. 
 She must have the moral strength of compan 
 ionship, and she must have some one to rely 
 upon and to go to in emergencies. She never 
 had a hope that Joe would now recede from 
 the position he had taken. Even if she hum 
 bled herself before him, and gave every thing 
 into his hands, it would not bring him back to 
 her side. She felt positive that he would stay 
 until the last hour to which he had pledged 
 himself was outrun. 
 
 Perkins was her first thought. He would 
 now have to retain the management of Bradley, 
 but between Joe and herself he should not put 
 a single word. She would not name her hus 
 band to him, or suffer him to discuss what Joe 
 had done in any way. Who then must she go 
 to? Sir Thomas Wilson had always liked Joe, 
 honestly liked him ; and he was in a position 
 to give her the protection and the advice she 
 needed. But he did not like her. She knew 
 it in spite of his smiles and suavity. Neither 
 did Lady Wilson Kke her, nor Lady Charlton,
 
 154 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 nor indeed, when she began to go over the list 
 of her acquaintances, could she find one on 
 whom she could rely. 
 
 She did not sleep all night, but toward 
 morning she arrived at a definite plan for her 
 conduct. It had come to her in one of those 
 flashes of intelligence which visit souls earnestly 
 seeking their way out of darkness and difficulty ; 
 come with its own assurance so perfect that she 
 never thought of challenging it. 
 
 She would go to Joe s father! 
 
 So, early the next day, Amos Braithwaite 
 was amazed to see a handsome carriage drive 
 inside his mill gates, and a beautiful, richly- 
 dressed woman alight from it. He had never 
 seen his daughter-in-law, bu: he knew instinc 
 tively that it was she. 
 
 And, as suspicion was ever the first feeling 
 in the old man s heart, he muttered, " That s 
 Joe s wife, I ll be bound. Now, whativer is 
 she up to comin here this time of t day?" 
 
 Then he retired at once to his private office. 
 He was on the alert in all his senses. " He 
 wasn t goin to be bamboozled by any woman. 
 And he wasn t goin , either, to let Luke Brad- 
 ley s lass say a word against his Joe. If there
 
 EDITH S HARD BLOW. 155 
 
 was sides to be taken he would stick up for his 
 awn side ivery time ! " And while he was thus 
 thinking the door opened and Edith entered. 
 
 Her stately beauty, her rich clothing, the 
 faint waft of some delicate perfume that came 
 in with her, quite subdued Amos. She looked 
 at him with eyes full of tears, and said, softly, 
 Father!" 
 
 " Eh ? Well, certainly, ma am. Thou art 
 Joe s wife happen ? Sit tha down." 
 
 She sat down in the big leather chair that 
 was the particular property of Amos, and, 
 covering her face with her hands, she began to 
 sob ; for her courage had suddenly forsaken 
 her, and she dreaded this old man who looked 
 at her so coldly and so curiously. 
 
 "Whativer is t matter wi thee, Mrs. Braith- 
 waite? " 
 
 " Oh ! father ! father ! Oh, Joe Joe Joe ! " 
 
 " Joe hes been up to summat wrong, and 
 he s sent his wife to get round me." That was 
 the first thought Amos had. His next one was, 
 " She ll be sharp as needles if she manages it." 
 But he made some attempt to comfort her; 
 and the more he tried the more Edith wept, 
 and the sorrier Amos felt for her.
 
 I5 6 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 " Whativer is t matter ? " he asked. " Come 
 now, tell me all about it If Joe hes been un 
 kind to thee, I ll pay him off mysen for it ; see 
 if I don t." 
 
 "Joe unkind! Oh, no, father! It is I that 
 have been unkind." 
 
 " Oh, ta hes, hes ta ? I wouldn t hev believed 
 it of such a bonny woman. Whativer hes ta 
 been up to ? I ll be bound he is as much in t 
 wrong as thou art." 
 
 " No, he is not. Joe has behaved like an angel. 
 Joe is the noblest fellow that God ever made." 
 
 " Mebbe so, for God hes made a queer lot 
 even in my time. Joe might be t best of them, 
 and then be nothing to crack about ; for Joe is 
 a long way off t angels. But come now, you 
 hev hed a quarrel most married people do 
 hev quarrels what is it about ? " 
 
 Then Edith told Amos all their domestic 
 troubles. She had thought over things in the 
 night, and had come to a very clear under 
 standing of them. And she did not spare her 
 self. She confessed to all her authoritative 
 ways, her little meannesses, and especially her 
 aggravating determination not to have the baby 
 christened unless it was called Luke.
 
 EDITH S HARD BLOW. 157 
 
 Amos had hard work to keep a straight face 
 during this acknowledgment of Edith s faults. 
 Over and over, he wanted to have a good 
 hearty laugh. It amused, it delighted him, to 
 think of Joe, who would not submit to his own 
 father, having to bow and beck to his wife. 
 Amos had been an autocrat in his household. 
 That a man should be any thing else to his 
 own women-folk seemed a most preposterous 
 state of affairs to him. 
 
 Edith s revelations affected him as a comedy 
 might have done. And all the time he was 
 complacently reflecting that this most unnat 
 ural condition of affairs was doubtless a judg 
 ment on Joe for his disobedience to him a 
 very fitting retribution indeed it seemed to the 
 disappointed and unvalued father. 
 
 But when Edith told him that Joe had gone, 
 that was a different thing. The quarrel was 
 more than a joke, more than the righteous 
 retribution he had been silently approving. 
 His first private sentiment was one of hearty 
 approval. Being his son, what could Joe do 
 but cast off all rule but self-rule? Then she 
 gave him Joe s letter to read, and his surprise 
 and satisfaction were complete.
 
 I5 8 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 " There s summat in this lad after all ; sum. 
 mat more than ordinary, Mrs. Braithwaite." 
 
 " Please, father, call me Edith." 
 
 " Varry well, if ta wants it so. There s a 
 deal in this lad of ours, after all, Edith. I like 
 what he hes done. It is t most sensible thing 
 I iver knew him do ; except happen t marrying 
 o thee." 
 
 " Father, there is so much that must be done, 
 so much to think of, and I am not able to-day 
 for thought or work. Will you come and take 
 dinner with me to-morrow? To-morrow is 
 Saturday. The mill closes early on Satur 
 day." 
 
 " Well, I m sure I don t know ; I hev a deal 
 to do. Meddling between man and wife is a 
 bad business." 
 
 " Father, do come. I have no one but you." 
 
 "Then I ll come, Edith, and I ll study out 
 things a bit, and I ll give thee t varry best of 
 advice. I wouldn t go to Perkins wi this 
 bother if I was thee." 
 
 " You are the only person in the world I 
 would have come to about Joe, father." 
 
 " And thou will varry soon find out that ta 
 hesn t made any mistake in coming to me."
 
 EDITH S HARD BLOW. 159 
 
 " What time do you like your dinner, 
 father?" 
 
 " I like it at four o clock." 
 
 " Is there any thing you are particularly 
 fond of? " 
 
 "Yes, my lass. I m fond of a roast of beef, 
 and a Yorkshire pudding well browned. And 
 if ta doesn t mind t trouble, I d like a bit of 
 berry pie, and some old Stilton." 
 
 " Oh, father, what a sensible man you are ! 
 It is so comfortable to have men say just what 
 they want, without apologies or nonsense." 
 
 " It is t right way, and ivery woman knows 
 it is t right way. If Joe hed only held thee in 
 wi a tighter rein, both o you would hev got 
 on varry nicely. Bless thy heart, Edith \ 
 women aren t happy if they hev their awn 
 way. It isn t natural, ta knows, and what isn t 
 natural comes to grief." 
 
 Then he amused and amazed his hands by 
 escorting her to her carriage. He walked very 
 proudly with the beautiful woman on his arm ; 
 and to see the care with which he wrapped her 
 rugs around her, and the courtesy with which 
 he lifted his hat to her in farewell, set the 
 whole mill in a flutter, and divided it into two
 
 160 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 parties : one, certain that " t owd fellow wer* 
 going to get wedded again ; " and the other 
 quietly scornful over such an unlikely event. 
 " It s nobbut young Joe s wife," they said. 
 
 For once Amos felt unable to cast away his 
 personal affairs, and devote himself to his mill. 
 "I m fair dazed like!" he said, sitting down 
 before the table and holding his head in his 
 hands. " To think of Joe going prentice at 
 this time o day! Joe Braithwaite is no fool! 
 Going to Sam, too ! Well, I niver ! Dal it all, 
 it fair caps me ! And I hev promised to go to 
 owd Bradley s ; no, to Joe s, I mean," and then 
 he laughed heartily, and by sheer force of will 
 compelled himself to examine some yarns and 
 write his letters.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 EDITH WINS TWO VICTORIES. 
 
 Wisdom is often nearer when we stoop 
 Than when we soar. 
 
 A creature not too bright and good 
 For human nature s daily food : 
 For transient sorrows, simple wiles, 
 Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles. 
 
 DITH left the presence of her father-in-law 
 I j with a sense of great satisfaction. She 
 had heard that he was rude and cross, and she 
 had feared that he would reproach her. On 
 the contrary he had been unusually kind and 
 considerate. She felt able to face the world, 
 able to endure her husband s absence, with such 
 a father-in-law at her side. In reality Amos 
 had never had any ill-will towards Edith. He 
 had thought well of her in the beginning, for 
 choosing Joe for her husband. During the first 
 year of their marriage, he had watched events
 
 1 62 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 very closely, and had felt personally flattered 
 by the young couple s " carryings on," their 
 visitings at great houses, and their entertain 
 ment of great people. 
 
 He had read also of Edith s beauty, and he 
 had never missed a word of any paragraph de 
 scribing her dresses and jewels, even although 
 many of the words were in that objectionable 
 French language, which " hadn t a sensible, 
 understandable word in it." And yet he felt 
 proud of the tone which the italicized words 
 gave to the descriptions ; he said them care 
 fully over to himself, and generally from the 
 context arrived at something near their mean 
 ing. 
 
 So that altogether he was well inclined to 
 Edith. Then he was also one of those funda 
 mental men who have never frittered or scoffed 
 away the natural influence of feminine beauty. 
 A lovely woman, splendidly arrayed, made an 
 easy conquest of Amos. After Edith had 
 gone her influence remained ; she left some 
 thing like a strain of sweet music in his heart 
 all day. 
 
 " My word ! " he said to himself, " Joe hed a 
 lot o spunk to mak up to a woman like that.
 
 EDITH WINS TWO VICTORIES. 163 
 
 I would hev thought of Queen Victoria just as 
 soon. And she called me fayther too, as 
 natural as iver was. And I m going to eat a 
 bit o dinner with her to-morrow. It caps me ! 
 I do wonder what owd Luke would say if he 
 knew his daughter called me fayther, and 
 came to me for advice and protection ; and that 
 I was going to put my feet under t grand 
 mahogany table he bought for himsen ! Life 
 is a fair whirligig, and nobody can mak heads 
 or tails of it." 
 
 But the whirligig pleased him, and he was so 
 unusually smiling and bland in his manner that 
 the hands snickered to each other over his 
 infatuation, the general opinion being that 
 after all " it took an owd fool to mak a big 
 fool." 
 
 Edith also was quite aware of the triumph of 
 her first move. But she felt considerably more 
 doubt and hesitation concerning her next one. 
 In the afternoon she dressed herself much more 
 plainly. She was going to Leeds to see Martha 
 Thrale, and she had a very certain opinion that 
 Martha would not be won by either beauty of 
 person or splendor of apparel, even though in 
 the latter respect she should outdo Solomon in
 
 1 64 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 all his glory. But the modest elegance of her 
 own black suit was fully compensated for by 
 baby s magnificence. All that lace and satin 
 and fine embroidery could do to enhance the 
 plump, pink loveliness of the little lad was done. 
 For it was upon baby that Edith relied for her 
 afternoon conquest. 
 
 The sudden pulling-up of the handsome 
 carriage before the door startled Martha a little. 
 She saw Edith descend from it, and her first 
 thought was, "Joe is varry ill, no doubt, and 
 she hes come for me to nurse him. There ll be 
 summat for Aunt Martha to do, as nobody else 
 likes to do, or Edith Braithwaite would niver 
 hev come my way," etc., etc. 
 
 She was putting on a clean white apron and 
 her best cap to such thoughts, when a little 
 servant girl said, "Please, ma am, there s a varry 
 grand lady in t parlor, and she s wanting to 
 speak to thee." 
 
 " What of that?" answered Martha fretfully. 
 " Go on wi thy own work, and I ll attend to t 
 grand lady, when I git ready for her." 
 
 And she entered the parlor so stiffly that 
 Edith found it impossible to say Aunt Martha 
 as at the mill she had said father. But Martha
 
 EDITH WINS TWO VICTORIES. 165 
 
 put out her hand and advanced to meet her 
 saying, 
 
 " Keep your sitting, ma am. I hope you 
 haven t come \vi any bad news ? " 
 
 " I have come to tell you something, Miss 
 Thrale, and to ask you to be my friend." 
 
 " There s a deal will depend on what you 
 hev come to tell me. ma am ; and as for my 
 friendship, it isn t worth a half-penny more to 
 day than it iver was." 
 
 " To me it is worth a great deal more. I 
 want you to stand by me while Joe is away. 
 There is no woman living but you that I have 
 any right to ask this favor of. And I want 
 you to teach me how to be a better wife to Joe 
 when he comes back." 
 
 Joe away ! What iver does ta mean ?" 
 
 " I have not been very kind to Joe." 
 
 "Isudn t wonder! Well, ta needn t cry. 
 Crying niver helps any body but babies." 
 
 " Joe has gone to his godfather in Manches 
 ter." 
 
 " To Samuel Yorke ? Does ta mean that ? " 
 
 " Yes. He has gone to him for two 
 years." 
 
 " For two years! I am fair taken aback."
 
 1 66 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 He has gone to learn calico weaving and 
 printing." 
 
 " But what has he done a thing like that 
 for?" 
 
 " He does not want to use my money I 
 know it is all my fault. Oh, Aunt Martha, 
 please let me call you Aunt Martha forgive 
 me ! I know it is all my fault." 
 
 " I haven t a doubt but that it is thy fault. 
 I tell thee, it needs a bigger heart to tak 
 money than to give money. Joe allus took 
 what I could spare him in such a way as made 
 it a favor and a pleasure to hev him take it. 
 VVhativer hes ta been doing to Joe to drive him 
 off to hard work? " 
 
 " It began with Perkins." 
 
 "There! I said so. I knew it would. I 
 told Joe, t first morning Perkins took his place 
 in thy business, that trouble had begun." 
 
 " I can see now that I treated him badly 
 about the management of Bradley Manor ; but 
 I did it for the best." 
 
 " I think thou treated him shamefully. I 
 won t mince matters, nor pick and choose my 
 words about it. Thou treated Joe shamefully ! 
 Thou threw a doubt and a slur on him before
 
 EDITH WINS TWO VICTORIES. 167 
 
 ivery one. Let me tell thee how people talked 
 of it: She may be varry fond o him, but 
 she s too clever a lass to trust a penny o her 
 money through his hands. She wants a hand 
 some lad to husband her, but she knew owd 
 Perkins was t best husband for land and t 
 gold. Joe Braithwaite is nobbut a figure 
 head in Bradley. T varry servants call him t 
 Missis s husband. " 
 
 "Aunt Martha, please stop. I deserve it all, 
 I deserve it all, but I cannot bear to hear such 
 things." 
 
 " How does ta think I liked to hear em? 
 Joe is all t same to me as if he was my own 
 son. I mothered him from t varry hour he 
 was born." 
 
 "Then you should have come and told me 
 how people were talking. Indeed, I think you 
 should ! It was your duty to have done so:" 
 
 " I don t want thee to tell me my duty, not 
 I. I did my duty to Joe ivery way until 
 he was thy husband. And ask thysen if I hed 
 come and told thee, say a month ago, or a week 
 ago, what answer thou would hev given me. 
 I ll tell thee ; it would have been: That med 
 dlesome old maid, that bothering, vulgar old
 
 1 68 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 woman ; and thou would hev looked at me as 
 if thy eyes were pistols. Varry likely thou 
 would hev told me in so many plain words to 
 mind my own business and leave thine alone." 
 
 "Oh, I don t think I would." 
 
 " Yes, ta would. I hevn t a doubt of it. 
 There wasn t any body in this world that could 
 hev made thee see thy faults but Joe. And I 
 am right glad he hes hed t gumption at last to 
 tak his manhood s rights from under thy feet. 
 I am that ! I think better o Joe than iver I 
 did before. And if he wants my help I ll work 
 my owd fingers to t bone for him ; and glad to 
 do it. Poor Joe! Poor, dear Joe ! " 
 
 "Now you are crying, Aunt Martha." 
 
 " I m not crying for mysen I m crying for 
 Joe." 
 
 " Don t do it. You make my punishment 
 greater than I can bear. Dear Aunt " 
 
 " Nay, nay, I m none dear to thee." 
 
 " You shall be you are. Any one Joe lovea 
 is dear to me. Let me help you to help Joe. 
 I know he won t take money from me, but let 
 me send some through you. Let us help him 
 together." 
 
 " Does ta think I would play Joe a trick like
 
 EDITH WINS TWO VICTORIES. 169 
 
 that? Niver! And I wouldn t deserve to be 
 forgiven. He s gone away to show that he can 
 do without thee. Does ta really think I d 
 help thee to spoil his plan ? Samuel Yorke 
 will pay him all he earns, I ll be bound ; and if 
 it is a bit scrimping, all the better, mabbe, for 
 t poor, dear lad." 
 
 By this time, Martha had in a measure lost 
 control of herself ; she was softly crying, with 
 her face hidden behind her apron. Edith sat 
 down by her side and, touching her hand, said, 
 " Aunt Martha, are you not going to stand by 
 Joe s wife while he is away? I am sure Joe 
 would like you to do so." 
 
 " I don t know. I must hev a bit o time to 
 think things over. I hevn t liked thee, and 
 thou has niver given me any cause to like 
 thee." 
 
 " My father-in-law forgave me at once, and 
 he is coming to Bradley to-morrow, to con 
 sider what is to be done while Joe is away. 
 Are you going to be harder than he ?" 
 
 " Amos Braithwaite allus gave up to a pretty 
 face ; it tak s more than face-beauty to get on 
 my kind side." 
 
 " Wait a minute, Aunt Martha." Then, to
 
 17 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 the old lady s amazement, she left the room in a 
 great hurry, returning in a moment or two with 
 baby in her arms. Before Martha could speak, 
 the child was on her knee. It was fast asleep 
 among its laces and pink ribbons, the sweetest 
 bit of rosy, smiling humanity possible to im 
 agine. 
 
 " Joe s baby, Aunt Martha. Will not baby s 
 innocent beauty find your kind side for me?" 
 
 The temptation was an irresistible one. She 
 could not help lifting it in her arms. She could 
 not but hold it to her breast, and gaze down 
 into its pretty face. And as she did so it 
 suddenly opened its two great blue eyes and 
 smiled at her. She kissed it, she cried over it, 
 she called it her bonny little Joe; she broke 
 into smiles herself, and, looking up, met Edith s 
 smiles and tears, the very complement of her 
 own. She surrendered completely and at 
 once. 
 
 " Tak off your bonnet, Edith, and we ll hev 
 a cup o tea together. I can t let t little lad 
 go just yet. My word ! But he is like his 
 father ! I remember when Joe was just such 
 another baby. How many teeth has he got, 
 Edith? And he has curly hair, too! But let
 
 EDITH WINS TWO VICTORIES. 171 
 
 us have a this satin and lace off t little lad. 
 Eh ! but these are bonny socks he hes on his 
 feet ! I hev his father s first leather shoes, red 
 morocco, ankle-tights, they are and I d like to 
 give him them." 
 
 So the two women, with the child between 
 them, sat and drank tea together, and Martha 
 listened to such confessions as Edith chose to 
 make, with more tolerance than might have 
 been expected. But Edith did not blame her 
 self so unreservedly to Martha as she had done 
 to Amos. A kind of instinct told her that it 
 was both unwise and unnecessary. A man can 
 make allowances for the exaggerated self-ac 
 cusations of a woman suffering from the re 
 proaches of a wounded affection ; a woman is 
 never inclined to believe another woman any 
 better than she believes herself. 
 
 And Edith had determined, while Joe was 
 absent from her, only to know Joe s friends. 
 If she needed defence of any kind, they were 
 the most proper people to defend her. If she 
 needed society, she would seek it only with 
 them, and thus give no occasion whatever for 
 evil speaking. Besides, she knew they would 
 write to Joe. She wanted them to write of
 
 I? 2 MASTER OF HIS FATE, 
 
 her, and to write kindly of her. She was de 
 termined Joe should hear of her from every 
 side. She would not suffer herself to be for 
 gotten. 
 
 Upon the whole her visit to Martha Thrale 
 was a far greater success than she had dared to 
 hope. Martha had taken the baby to her 
 heart, and she had taken the mother on proba 
 tion. And Edith felt that it would be worth 
 \vhile winning the heart of the stubborn but 
 true old lady. She knew that it was something 
 of a triumph to have obtained from her a 
 promise to come to Bradley once a week, even 
 though the concession had been only Avon by 
 representing to her that, in order to prevent 
 people speaking evil of Joe s wife, Joe s rela 
 tions must visit her. For Joe s sake the first 
 visits would doubtless be made, but Edith was 
 determined to very soon win for them a much 
 pleasanter personal character. 
 
 The next day, just at noon, the engine in 
 Bevin Mill ceased its panting and groaning, 
 the wheels and pulleys their revolving, and the 
 little streets and lanes around were almost im 
 passable for half an hour with workers loitering 
 homeward. Generally Amos enjoyed his quiet
 
 EDITH WINS TWO VICTORIES. i?3 
 
 mill on a Saturday afternoon. He liked to 
 wander through it ; to privately inspect all the 
 wheels and bands and looms ; and to stand 
 before the resting engine in its fine chamber, 
 panelled with stained woods, and feed his own 
 pride with thoughts of this marvellous creature, 
 the nervous centre that moved all his vast 
 machinery, and gave life to the devil and speed 
 to the shuttle. But this day he had other 
 thoughts and plans. That morning he had 
 received a letter from Samuel Yorke, and in it 
 Sam had dealt as faithfully with Amos as he 
 had personally done with Joe. " But Sam allus 
 lectured me above a bit when we were boys 
 together," he said to himself. " He were allus 
 too good by half." And as these thoughts 
 passed through his mind he spread Sam s letter 
 open on his desk and read it again, preparatory 
 to answering it. 
 
 DEAR OLD FRIEND : I should think, Amos 
 Braithwaite, thou would feel a bit ashamed of 
 me having to take thy son in hand, and to teach 
 him how to make a living at this time of day. 
 Joe has come to me for two years, and I am 
 going to do all I can for him. I should ask 
 any one but thee a big apprentice fee, but if I 
 asked thee for one I don t think thou would 
 feel it thy duty to pay it. Joe is a fine lad, and
 
 174 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 he would have been a deal finer if thou had 
 brought him up in the way he ought to go. 
 Late as it is, I am going to let him find out 
 what earning his bread by the sweat of his 
 brow means, on every week day, and what 
 going to the chapel means on every Sunday. 
 But thou knows I will be as good as good to 
 him. I shall remember the time when we were 
 hard-working lads together, and I shall re 
 member my own dear lads, and thou need never 
 have one worry about thy Joe. He ll do pretty 
 middling yet, no doubt. Deary me, Amos ! 
 How life does go on ! It is fifty years ago this 
 morning since me and thee stood on Windhill 
 brow together, and I said good-bye to thee, 
 Amos, and turned my face Manchester way, 
 and thou said " Good-bye Sam," and turned 
 thy face to Bradley Mill. We were lads then, 
 and there were something uncommon like tears 
 in our eyes. Thou hast made a big lot of 
 money since, but don t thee forget what a big 
 fool thou will be if thou does not make out 
 thy title clear to a place in the kingdom of 
 Heaven. And if thou hast not yet done so, 
 make haste about it, Amos; thou hasn t any 
 time to lose. God bless thee. Joe sends his 
 love and respects to thee. 
 
 Thy friend, 
 
 SAMUEL YORKE. 
 
 This letter touched and pleased Amos. He 
 was used to Sam s plain talking-, and had 
 generally felt all its truth and kindness. And 
 he took comfort from the fact of Joe being with 
 this man " too good by half," and had far more
 
 EDITH WINS TWO VICTORIES. 17$ 
 
 respect for his son, and far more hope for his 
 f uture.than when he believed him to be under the 
 counsels of one able to teach him " how to steal 
 by line and level." His heart, too, was softened 
 by Sam s allusion to the past and to the future. 
 He recalled with a sigh the gray, windy 
 morning, and the two lads in their heavy clogs 
 and rough clothing, standing with their hands 
 clasped, as they said to each other a long good 
 bye. And he thought, as he had frequently 
 done before, that Sam was right enough about 
 its being time to look after the next world a 
 bit, and that if he could possibly manage it 
 he would begin going to church the next 
 Sunday morning. Then he dipped his pen 
 into the ink and wrote : 
 
 DEAR OLD SAM : If thou has got my Joe 
 to train up in the way he should go, thou has 
 got something worth the training; and rather 
 more work on thy hands than thou thinks for. 
 But if thou can only make him mind thee, as 
 well as thou used to make me mind thee, thou 
 may happen turn out as steady a going man as 
 thyself. As to prentice fees, I m glad thou 
 doesn t expect me to pay thee one, for I should 
 have to disappoint thee. When Joe is doing 
 good work, get one from him : he can afford it, 
 I m sure, and he will get to see into the value 
 of thy teaching better if he has to pay for it.
 
 176 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 I didn t send him to thy school, and it s not 
 very likely I will pay for thy fees. I m aston 
 ished as thou should waste time and trouble 
 asking me about such a thing. I hope Joe will 
 be more of a comfort to thee than he seems 
 to have been to any one else yet. His wife 
 called to see me yesterday. She is a woman 
 that any man might be proud of; how Joe can 
 bide to leave her and stay with thee for two 
 years is one of them things as would cap any 
 body in their senses. 
 
 Thine, dear Sam, 
 AMOS BRAITHWAITE. 
 
 Having read over the letter and found it to 
 his satisfaction, he sealed and posted it, and 
 then went home and dressed himself for his 
 visit to Bradley Court. All the-way there he 
 was in a state of suppressed exaltation, and 
 though far too prudent and proud to show his 
 amazement, the beautiful park and gardens, 
 the fine house, the silver and servants and 
 general grandeur, affected him very strangely. 
 
 To think how Bradley had hated him ! And 
 now he had a kind of proprietorship in all that 
 he had owned ! And surely if Bradley had 
 often set him in Cold-Shoulder Lane, Joe had 
 paid back that snubbing very effectually by 
 setting Edith in the same place for a term of 
 two years at a time. Upon the whole his bill
 
 EDITH WINS TWO VICTORIES. l?7 
 
 of offences against his old enemy was getting 
 a very full and satisfactory settlement. 
 
 He told Edith that he had had a letter from 
 Samuel Yorke, but he did not show it to hen 
 Sam had a free way of speaking to him, a 
 habit of reproof, which he thought might be a 
 bad example to set before Mrs. Joe. He was 
 very desirous to stand well with his new 
 daughter ; so he only told her what pleasant 
 promises Yorke had made about Joe, and how 
 certain he was that Joe s queer notion would 
 turn out to be the wisest notion he had. 
 
 Edith s first consultation with her father-in- 
 law was in respect to the prevention of any 
 general public discussion of their family affairs. 
 "Joe has left me, father," she said, feelingly, 
 " and there is nobody but you to take care of 
 my good name." 
 
 " It will be a bad move for any one tnat says 
 a wrong word o thee," he answered. " I ll 
 give them it that well that they won t know 
 where to hide themselves." 
 
 " What shall we say about Joe s long ab 
 sence? " 
 
 " Say ? Say the truth, my lass ; truth may be 
 blamed, but it never can be shamed. Say
 
 178 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 that Joe was disgusted with t law, and weary 
 to death o doing nothing. Say that he wanted 
 to learn some straightforward, interesting 
 trade, that he could mak a bit o money by, 
 and that he hes gone to his godfather to learn 
 it. Surely to goodness, there s naught wrong 
 in that ! I d like to see t man as thinks there 
 is, that s all ! He d come to a varry different 
 opinion in a minute or two, I think." 
 
 " People will say, why did he not go to his 
 father?" 
 
 " Tell them his fayther wouldn t hev him; 
 and if they want to know any more of thy 
 business send em to me, for t information. I 
 sail enjoy giving it to them, varry much." 
 
 " And as long as Joe is away I am under 
 your protection, father ? " 
 
 "I sud say thou art. And I ll tak good 
 care of thee ; see if I don t." 
 
 " Every week I shall ride over to Bevin Hall 
 to see you ; and every Saturday you will come 
 to Bradley to see me." 
 
 Amos fidgetted and looked uneasy at the 
 proposal. 
 
 "Why, ta sees, there is no woman body at 
 Bevin ; Martha Thrale went into a tantrum wi
 
 EDITH WINS TWO VICTORIES. 1 79 
 
 me about Joe, and when Joe took himsen off 
 she went with him. I hevn t bothered rnysen 
 about women since, nor about t house either. 
 If I keep Bevin Mill spick and span it suits 
 me well enough, and I don t bother mysen 
 about t house. I sud rather think it is in a 
 bad state ; t mice and t moths hev been hev- 
 ing it to themselves, and there isn t a room in 
 it fit for a lady like thee." 
 
 " Poor Martha! I am afraid I made it almost 
 impossible for Joe to show her the least affec 
 tion or remembrance." 
 
 " He shouldn t hev let thee hinder him ; I 
 wouldn t. Martha was good to Joe. It was a 
 bit mean of thee to come between them." 
 
 " Every hour reveals some new thing in 
 which I wasn t fair or kind to Joe." 
 
 " I sudn t wonder. If a woman iver does 
 get her eyes opened to her awn faults, she s 
 varry likely to see into things that will keep 
 her on t stool of repentance a long time. I 
 don t say that Joe is without faults ; he be 
 haved varry badly to me. But still, I hev no 
 doubt thou aggravated him into doing lots of 
 things it wasn t Joe Braithwaite s nature to 
 do."
 
 l8o MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 " But I will be kind and gentle now, father." 
 " I hev no doubt. Thou wouldn t find it 
 easy to be cross wi me, Mrs. Braithwaite. Joe 
 was too good natured. He just led thee into 
 temptation. No woman can resist t pleasure 
 o ruling her husband, when he puts t reins 
 and whip in her hand. And what comes o 
 women ruling? Sin and sorrow, Mrs. B., sin 
 and sorrow allus."
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 AT BRADLEY. 
 
 " A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays 
 And confident to-morrows." 
 
 " The primal duties shine aloft like stars ; 
 
 The charities that soothe, and heal, and bless, 
 Are scattered at the feet of men like flowers." 
 
 " One in whom persuasion and belief had ripened 
 into faith." 
 
 MORAL energy is never a failure ; but when 
 Joe came to realize his position he was 
 a little amazed at the result of his godfather s 
 prompt acceptance of his regret for an unsatis 
 factory past and his resolutions for a better 
 future. He had really had no idea of such 
 heroic treatment of his dissatisfaction. He 
 had coquetted with the idea of going to his 
 godfather for some months, and when the visit 
 to Manchester was proposed he had deter 
 mined to take the preliminary steps to a wiser 
 and more independent life. But so rapid a
 
 l8 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 settlement of the affair had never occurred to 
 him as possible. 
 
 He had expected to make some arrangement 
 with Yorke, and then secure his wife s sanction 
 to his plan. He wanted to get across the 
 stream, but he had a sort of pleasure in linger 
 ing on the bank and anticipating the necessary 
 plunge. He was a little angry at himself, for 
 submitting to that peculiar, forceful something 
 in his godfather s manner which had gone at 
 once to the solution of his difficulty and taken 
 him with it. 
 
 " I should have returned home again, at 
 least for a month," he thought. " There are 
 things Edith will need some advice about ; and 
 I have only put her more than ever under the 
 influence of Perkins. And I ought to see and 
 talk with her on my plan, and I did not bring 
 my wardrobe and books with me, and certainly 
 I do not like the idea of being always under 
 the eye of that old man. He is too masterful. 
 I must have some different arrangement with 
 him. The whole affair has been settled in too 
 great a hurry." 
 
 But when the old man called at five o clock 
 and said, " Now then, Joe, pick up thy valise,
 
 AT BRADLEY. 183 
 
 my lad. If we don t be sharp we ll keep din- 
 ner waiting," Joe had no power to enter the 
 protest he was thinking of. And though he 
 felt worried, and even a little cross, it was 
 impossible to show his temper to one so 
 genuinely kind, so placidly unconscious of 
 having caused worry or annoyance. 
 
 They stopped at a large brick house in the 
 suburbs of the great city. It stood in a small,- 
 shady garden, and the garden was surrounded 
 by a brick wall. Great solid gates admitted 
 them to its seclusion, and before they could 
 ring the bell the door was opened by a young 
 girl, who said, as Yorke removed his hat, 
 " Dinner is ready to serve, sir." 
 
 "Then tell Polly to hev it served. Come, 
 Joe, a bit o dinner will mak a new man o* 
 thee." 
 
 He led him into a large, comfortable dining- 
 room, handsomely furnished with the solid 
 woods and heavy moreen that were fashionable 
 forty years ago. The windows were open, but 
 a little fire burned cheerfully above the bright 
 steel hearth furnishings; and the table, though 
 small, was laid with the utmost nicety and 
 care. Joe s cover appeared as if by magic. If
 
 1 84 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 he had not been observant, he would have 
 supposed that he had been expected. 
 
 " Sit tha down at t table ; thou won t hev to 
 wait ; " and with the words the door opened, 
 and a most pleasant-looking woman, about 
 fifty years old, entered, She wore a black stuff 
 dress, and a snow-white cap and apron ; her 
 round, rosy face was beaming with smiles, and 
 in her hands she carried a platter with a cut of 
 fresh salmon on it ; it was boiled to perfection, 
 and laid upon white damask and fresh curled 
 parsley. 
 
 " There, now, Master Yorke ! I do hope as 
 you and the young gentleman hev brought 
 good appetites with you. A bit o fish like 
 that is made for good men and good eaters." 
 
 " We ll be varry apt to do our duty, Polly ; 
 hes all gone well to-day ? " 
 
 "As well as could be expected, sir, with 
 giddy young girls in t house, and a pottering 
 owd man in t yard and t garden." 
 
 " They do middling well with thee Polly." 
 
 "Thank you, sir." The words were accom 
 panied by a little courtesy, and Polly withdrew, 
 leaving one of the giddy young girls to wait 
 on the table and bring in the meat and dessert.
 
 AT BRADLEY. 185 
 
 As Joe soon found out, this conversation, 
 slightly varied according to the initial dish of 
 the meal, was an every-day event. And he 
 got to feel, as Yorke evidently did, that Polly s 
 handsome, happy face, and her cordial recom 
 mendation, imparted a kind of relish to all the 
 food her clever hands prepared. 
 
 The whole dinner was excellent, and Yorke 
 was pleased to see that Joe enjoyed it. "A 
 man who doesn t care for a good dinner, Joe, 
 doesn t care about lots of other good things. I 
 hevn t much opinion o him," said Yorke, as he 
 rose with a face full of content from the table. 
 Then he took from a rack in the chimney 
 corner a clean, long clay pipe, and, having rilled 
 it, sat silently smoking, while every trace of 
 dinner was quickly and quietly removed. Joe 
 had declined the pipe, but he lit a cigar, and 
 for half an hour the two men enjoyed that 
 delightful, dreamy repose which good viands 
 and good tobacco, and a companionship un- 
 exacting and sympathetic, seem to have the 
 power to give. 
 
 By and by, when Joe s cigar was finished, 
 and Yorke had tapped the ashes out of his
 
 1 86 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 first pipe, and was lingeringly refilling the 
 bowl, he began to talk. 
 
 " I like a bit o quiet after dinner, Joe ; and 
 I thought we hed best begin as we would be 
 apt to carry on." 
 
 " I enjoyed it very much." 
 
 " But now thou can talk. I shall like to 
 hear thee talk now. I heard thou was a year 
 among t foreigners. Tell us summat about 
 thy travels." 
 
 This was a subject Joe liked to talk about. 
 He took his godfather from city to city, and 
 the time went by unheeded. The old man 
 was charmed. He had seen nothing of life 
 beyond Bradford and Manchester ; he listened 
 as a child listens to a fairy story. Insensibly 
 the room darkened, till there were only the 
 gray shadows of twilight, and the ruddy, fitful 
 blaze of the coal fire. Joe had been talking 
 about Rome, and the great church of St. 
 Peter. 
 
 " And did ta really go into a popish church, 
 Joe ! why, howiver did ta feel about it ?" 
 
 " I will tell you. One night I went to the 
 Sistine Chapel. It was after midnight, just be 
 fore the dawning of Easter Sunday. They
 
 AT BRADLEY. 187 
 
 were singing what they call the Miserere. At 
 each verse a light was put out, and as the 
 darkness grew deeper the music became 
 sadder and sadder, until I could scarcely en. 
 dure the sorrowful wail. But when every light 
 had been put out, when thick darkness had 
 fallen upon the kneeling congregation, then a 
 voice began to sing; such a voice, godfather ; 
 alone, clear, triumphant ; it sang the power of 
 the God of Resurrection ; and then the lights 
 suddenly blazed forth, and the whole people 
 rose to their feet, and I could not think of any 
 thing to say, but Glory, glory be to God ! " 
 
 The tears were in Joe s eyes, and Yorke s 
 face was shining with the rapture of his own 
 anticipations. " My word, Joe," he said in a 
 low, soft voice, " I would like to hear a hymn 
 like that ; I d go to Rome to hear it, I would 
 that." 
 
 They were silent for a few minutes, and then 
 a maid brought in lights, and a tray with tea, 
 and Yorke said : " Phoebe, thou tell Polly to 
 hev t room above this one got ready for Mr. 
 Braithwaite." Then turning to Joe " We are 
 early birds here, my lad. I sail hev thee 
 called on t stroke of seven. That is a work-
 
 1 88 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 ing-man s hour. I hope tha isn t afraid o* 
 work." 
 
 "Not I." 
 
 Nor ashamed o it." 
 
 " Why should I be ashamed of it ? I m not 
 any better than you, or my father." 
 
 "And depend upon it, Joe, labor is the varry 
 salt of life. I won t hear tell o it being a curse. 
 Before iver *Adam sinned, when he was first 
 put i Paradise, he was commanded to dress 
 and keep it. The Lord works for us all. T 
 angels run to and fro, doing His will contin 
 ually. Ivery man ought to be wisely busy; 
 and I ll tell thee what, any father that works 
 hard, in order that his children may hev noth 
 ing to do, is working hard to mak them as 
 miserable as they can be." 
 
 " I believe it all, sir, but " 
 
 " Now, Joe, don t thee get weak-hearted." 
 
 " I was thinking of my wife and child." 
 
 " To be sure ; thou is right to think o them, 
 but they can t help thee in what ta wants to 
 do, and they would be varry sure to. hinder 
 thee. For two years thou must stick to thy 
 work. I ll hev naught to do wi thee, if ta is 
 going to run between Bradley and Manchester.
 
 AT BRADLEY. 189 
 
 It must be one thing or t other. Thou wilt 
 hev to fill posts where ta can t be absent." 
 
 "You mean that I am not to go to Bradley 
 for two years." 
 
 " That is about what I mean. Thou can t 
 serve two masters ; is it to be thy wife, or 
 Samuel Yorke?" 
 
 " Men generally manage to do their duty to 
 both wife and business." 
 
 " Thine is a particular case, Joe. Because 
 most rivers slope gently to t sea, that doesn t 
 prevent Niagara taking a leap of a hundred 
 and fifty feet. Come, Joe, I am doing t right 
 thing for thee, ivery way. Tak my way for 
 two years, and then thou can tak thy way for 
 all t rest o thy life ; if ta doesn t tak my way, 
 thou art going to mak a mess of t whole affair, 
 and I ll hev naught to do with it." 
 
 There was something irresistible about the 
 man. After a moment s pause, Joe said : " I 
 will do as you think best." 
 
 They were walking up-stairs together as Joe 
 came to this decision. Yorke was much 
 pleased with it. He went with Joe into the 
 room prepared for him, and said, with a sigh, 
 
 " It was William Henry s room ; tha sees I
 
 19 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 hevn t moved a thing. And I m glad I hevn t; 
 he was a good, kind lad, and I think he d like 
 to know thou wert comfortable in it. Good 
 night, Joe. We sail hev some happy hours 
 together, I can see that." 
 
 Certainly Joe was not very happy at that 
 hour. He had to tell Edith, and it was only 
 after many efforts he succeeded in writing her 
 the few lines she received the night she was so 
 lovingly expecting him home. But when this 
 letter was written and posted the difficulty of 
 Joe s new life was over. For to the strong the 
 irrevocable brings strength. Come what 
 might, he would now stand to the position he 
 had taken. 
 
 And for the first few weeks his business life 
 was not altogether a pleasant one. The 
 weather was damp and oppressive, and after 
 his country life the dense crowds in Dean s 
 Gate, profligate and miserable, sickened him. 
 The old church, with its lonely yard, and its 
 great square tower, blackened by the smoke of 
 every factory chimney ever built in Manchester, 
 made his heart pitiful. He wished the lank, 
 white spinners, sodden with the vapor of the 
 mills, and husky with the dust of the cotton
 
 AT BRADLEY. 191 
 
 devils, could at least once a week worship amid 
 green fields. And he thought of Bevin Church, 
 with the trees whispering round it, and the 
 bells ringing psalms above it, and the hands 
 coming over the windy wolds to pray within its 
 white walls. 
 
 As for Market street, he was lost amid its 
 hurry and bustle, its rush and tumble. The 
 enormous lurries with their gigantic horses and 
 sulky brutes of drivers made him glad to get 
 within the lesser confusion, and the less 
 evident hostility, of his godfather s mill. And 
 very soon he became interested in his work, 
 and so weary with it that he found, as Yorke 
 had predicted, no inclination to go beyond the 
 limits of his daily needs and duties. 
 
 But these results could hardly be foreseen in 
 Bradley and Market-Bevin, and both Edith 
 and Amos Braithwaite had many anxious hours 
 the following week. After the father-in-law s 
 visit Edith answered Joe s letter. And the 
 answer did the very best side of her nature 
 credit. She frankly confessed her faults ; she 
 assured Joe of her unalterable affection. She 
 praised the spirit which had dared to face his 
 mistakes and disappointments, and declared,
 
 I9 2 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 " By so doing, dear Joe, you have put your feet 
 upon your ill-fortune and made yourself mas 
 ter of your fate. I have never before been so 
 proud of you, never before loved you half so 
 well." 
 
 Then she told him of her visit to Aunt 
 Martha and to his father, and of the latter s 
 promise to take dinner with her the following 
 day. " And I hope you will be glad that 
 baby s name is settled," she said, " for when 
 Aunt Martha saw him she instinctively called 
 him little Joe, and I am sure he can have no 
 better name than your own." 
 
 That first week Edith did no : go over to 
 Bevin Hall; she had perceived that it would be 
 inconvenient to Amos, and she did not wish to 
 associate herself with any thing troublesome 
 to his daily life. But about Thursday she rode 
 over to Leeds again, and induced Martha 
 Thrale to come back with her to Bradley for 
 a week. Martha was very glad to go. Her arms 
 had been aching to hold the child once more. 
 She had begun to wish she knew Edith better, 
 for she desired to love her as Joe s \vii.fe ought 
 to be loved by her. 
 
 On Saturday morning Edith thought it best
 
 AT BRADLEY. 193 
 
 to tell her that Amos was coming to dinner. 
 She was aware that they had not spoken to 
 each other for nearly eight years. She under- 
 stood the stubborn temper of both, and she did 
 not suppose Martha would wish to meet her 
 brother-in-law. " But if not, Aunt Martha," she 
 said, " do not leave your rooms ; I would not for 
 the world have you suffer any annoyance in my 
 house." 
 
 " That s all right, Edith," she replied ; " but 
 I can tell you one thing. I niver yet run away 
 from either man or woman body, and I m par- 
 tic larly sure that I won t run from Amos Braith- 
 waite. If he doesn t like to be in t same room 
 wi me he can just tak himsen further off, as 
 soon as iver he chooses." 
 
 " I dare say that he will be very glad to meet 
 you again, Aunt Martha. He ought to be." 
 
 " Ay, he ought. I did him a deal o good 
 for many a year. He has mebbe found it out 
 by this time. And he hes nothing to feel hard 
 at me for, except that one night I told him t 
 truth about himsen, and if he didn t like it it 
 was nobody s fault but his awn. He had no 
 one to blame but Amos Braithwaite, if t truth 
 wasn t varry flattering."
 
 194 MASTER O-F HIS FATE. 
 
 So on Saturday the proud old lady sat 
 steadily in the parlor with her knitting, her 
 broad, placid, handsome face showing not a trace 
 of any thing but sincerity and content. Amos 
 came bustling into the room in his usual pom 
 pous fashion, and his eyes instantly fell upon 
 Martha, as she sat by the open window, busy 
 with a sock of pink wool for little Joe. It was 
 like a vision from his old life. In a moment 
 he remembered all the years in which she had 
 kept Bevin Hall a little palace of sweet clean 
 liness and exquisite comfort. His heart went 
 out to her, but he only said, 
 
 " Well, I m sure ; is that thee, Martha?" 
 
 " Ay, it s me, Amos, wi a difference o eight 
 years fash and worry and ageing. I m glad to 
 see thee looking so well and so like thy- 
 sen." 
 
 " Is ta really? Martha Thrale, when is ta 
 coming home? Thou ought to be ashamed o 
 thysen, leaving an old man like me to fettle for 
 himsen a these years." 
 
 " I hevn t done a thing or said a word that 
 I m shamed for, niver in my whole life, Amos 
 Braithwaite." 
 
 " I sud think that t Resurrection Day was
 
 AT BRADLEY. 195 
 
 here, if I heard thee say different. It s natural 
 to hear thee talking like that. It would be a 
 strange thing to hear thee say as thou could be 
 in the wrong. It would that. But I ll tell thee 
 summat: t rats, and t mice, and ivery other 
 kind o vermin that thou hates, are heving a 
 good time over at Bevin, among t velvet chairs 
 and t hangings and t varry best carpets. And 
 that owd Tabby Askweth lies broke t last bit 
 o thy sister Ann s best china, and I don t 
 believe there is an ell o ta fine table damask 
 left." 
 
 " Amos Braithwaite ! Such carryings on ! 
 It s enough to make any body cry ; Tabby Ask 
 weth ought to be in Bevin lock-up, that she 
 ought." 
 
 " And I hevn t t ways, nor t means, to ask 
 my awn daughter-in-law to come and drink a 
 cup o tea wi me. It s a. shame, I say." 
 
 "It is thy awn fault." 
 
 "And I d like to see my awn grandson, 
 sometimes, in my awn house. Thou ought to 
 think o these things. Come home, my woman ; 
 I wouldn t be so stubborn and ill to move for 
 anything. Look at me; see how forgiving I 
 hev been. Why, I was too soft even to tell
 
 I9 6 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 Joe s wife a bit o my mind. Thou rt worse 
 than I am, Martha." 
 
 " Does ta want me to come back to Bevin? 
 Is that what ta means ?" 
 
 " Ay, I want thee to come home." 
 
 " Then I ll come, on one condition. Thou 
 must ask Joe back. I left when Joe left, and 
 I m none comin back till ta asks Joe back wi 
 me." 
 
 " I ll do naught o t sort. He can come if 
 he likes. Edith is coming once a week, and if 
 a man can t follow his wife, I count nothing of 
 him ; he s too big a fool to ask. When will ta 
 come home, Martha ? " 
 
 " As soon as I hev put my furniture in safe 
 keeping." 
 
 Sell it." 
 
 "Not I. Thee and me might get to differing 
 again, and I m not goin to put mysen out of a 
 home. I d be too much i thy power, if I sold 
 my furniture." 
 
 " Thou art eat up wi pride, but I ll set thee 
 an example, Martha. I ll show thee how to be 
 generous and forgiving. I ll settle .200 a year 
 on thee for life ; whether ta stays wi me, or
 
 AT BRADLEY. 197 
 
 leaves me, thou shalt hev 200 a year. What 
 does ta say to that, now ? " 
 
 " I niver asked thee for a penny-piece, Amos 
 Braithwaite, and I don t know as thou hest any 
 right to give me 200 a year." 
 
 " Keep thysen cool, Martha ; I m not offer 
 ing thee any charity. Thou earned all I offer 
 thee, ay, over and over. I m nobbut paying a 
 just debt." 
 
 " If thou thinks of it that way, pay it. But 
 I m not the woman to take any mean advan 
 tage over thee. I m more likely to stay wi 
 thee, when I hev t" power to leave thee, than I 
 would be if I hadn t a penny." 
 
 "When will ta come home ? " 
 
 " Next Saturday thou wilt find me there, I ll 
 warrant, when ta comes from t mill." 
 
 Then Edith came in, and as the trio stood 
 together admiring little Joe, the door opened, 
 and Perkins entered. He was quite taken 
 down by the presence of Amos and Martha, 
 and could scarcely manage to explain that he 
 was passing, and had called to see if there was 
 any thing for him to attend to, etc. 
 
 Amos watched his confusion with cynical 
 pleasure. " Why, whativer is t matter wi
 
 I9 8 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 thee, Perkins? Thou isn t thysen at all. Thou 
 art blushing like a hobbledehoy ! Doesn t t 
 company here suit thee? For my part I m 
 varry glad to see thee. I have summat to say 
 to thee after dinner." 
 
 " Dinner is served, madam," said a servant. 
 
 " Then come thou wi me, Edith. I can 
 trust Joshua Perkins with Martha Thrale. 
 He ll hev to mind his P s and Q s if he is think 
 ing o cross-questioning her. I m glad Martha 
 is here. I like to eat my dinner without 
 racking my brain to keep upsides wi a clever 
 owd lawyer." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Braithwaite ! Mr. Braithwaite ! 
 You must hev your joke, we all know that." 
 And Perkins tried to hide his astonishment 
 and annoyance in a forced laugh, and in civil 
 attentions to Miss Thrale, who, however, 
 received them in an unusually silent and 
 haughty manner.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 JOE RISES IN ESTEEM. 
 
 The soul gives itself strict account of every thing J 
 It penetrates itself with its own life. 
 
 That love never confers happiness on others 
 that sacrifices nothing for those whom it loves. 
 
 OW then, Perkins, if ta hes any ques- 
 tions to ask, thou may git all ta can 
 out o me." 
 
 The two men were walking and smoking in 
 the beautiful alleys of the rose garden, it being 
 a theory of Edith s that in some way tobacco 
 was favorable to the health of her favorite 
 flower. Two world-worn figures they looked, 
 amid the unspeakable freshness and loveliness 
 which surrounded them ; but Amos was not in 
 sensible to it. He loved flowers, he loved roses 
 best of all flowers, and as he invited the lawyer s 
 examination, he stood still a moment before a 
 wonderful white moss rose, a thing so purely,
 
 200 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 so heavenly sweet and perfect, that it compelled 
 the eyes to pause and the heart to worship. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Braithwaite " 
 
 " Ay, thou hed better call me Mr. Braith 
 waite, I am got to where it s t right thing to 
 do. A man wi t overcharge o Bevin and 
 Bradley on his mind, deserves a bit o respect, I 
 think." 
 
 " Did I understand you to say that you had 
 the charge of the Bradley estate, sir ? " 
 
 "I m not going to mell in thy business, so 
 thou need not look so turkey-gobbler like. I m 
 taking my daughter s place, not thine. That is, 
 I m taking Joe s place ; and, I must say, not a 
 minute before t right time. There s four houses 
 on Kattal Moor unlet for two years ; now then, 
 how does that come about ? " 
 
 " If you hev any right to ask " 
 
 " To be sure I hev, did ta iver know me 
 bother my head about other folks concerns? 
 But if ta wants to, thou can draw me up a 
 power of attorney." 
 
 " Then I answer that I cannot force people 
 to rent houses. They are there, if they want 
 them." 
 
 " But thou could do summat to mak people
 
 JOE RISES IN ESTEEM. 201 
 
 want them. Tell Darley to tak his paint pots 
 there, to-morrow, and hev t garden palings put 
 up, and t flower beds weeded, and t window 
 glass put in ; mak them look comfortable, and 
 they ll rent ; I ll be bound they will ! " 
 " All this costs money." 
 
 " I should say it did ; but ta must put money 
 out to get money in. Them houses standing 
 empty are a loss of So a year. Thou hed 
 better put out 10 and get ^70 back. But 
 thou art so used to getting good money for 
 talking a bit that it s hard to get t right prin 
 ciples of outlay and increase into thy head 
 there s more o t same kind too. That mill on 
 Sorbey beck has been empty for five years." 
 " I hev niver hed one offer for it." 
 "As a mill; that s likely ; but I ll tell thee 
 what ! T Wesleyan Methodists want a chapel 
 at Sorbey I know they do, for they came to 
 me for a subscription. Offer them t building 
 on a long lease. They ll nobbut hev to put t 
 seats in and paint it up a bit. Give em their 
 own terms, if they are any way near t figure." 
 " That is a good idea, Mr. Braithwaite." 
 " Ay, I think it is. I mostly know what I m 
 doing. And, I don t want a mill there; it
 
 2C2 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 wont suit my plans. If they say t building is 
 too big, thou may tell them that ta knows 
 there will be plenty o men and women to 
 crowd it before varry long." 
 
 " Whativer does ta mean ? 
 
 " I understand my awn meaning, which is 
 more than many folks do. Now, thet is all 
 about Bradley at this time, only I d advise thee 
 to keep a sharper lookout for Bradley, for I ll 
 tell thee one thing, I sail keep a varry sharp 
 lookout for thee." 
 
 Perkins laughed, but not very pleasantly. 
 " I know what your lookout is, Mr. Braithwaite. 
 I m not a bit afraid of it. What is all this I 
 hear about Mr. Joe ? " 
 
 " What has ta heard ? " 
 
 " That he hed deserted his wife and child. I 
 heard also that you hed followed him to Liver 
 pool, but could not induce him to come home." 
 
 " Thou hes been fooled wi* a pack o lies. 
 Who told them to thee?" 
 
 "I am not at liberty to name names." 
 
 "Ay, but ta will hev to name names to me. 
 We aren t going one step further till ta does." 
 And Amos was so red and belligerent-looking 
 that Perkins thought it wisest to answer:
 
 JOE RISES IN ESTEEM. 203 
 
 " If you insist on knowing, it was Tommy 
 Arncliff of t Bell Ringer s Inn." 
 
 " I ll sue him for defamation o my son s 
 character. Thou may lay t damages at io,-\ 
 ooo." 
 
 " Nonsense, Braithwaite. It isn t slander 
 saying what you ve heard to your lawyer. I m 
 Arncliff s lawyer. I could not, and would not, 
 be witness against him." 
 
 " Hes ta heard any one else say such things ? " 
 
 " I m not varry likely to tell thee now what 
 I hev heard. But it is easy to see that there is 
 something more than usual at Bradley, and of 
 course people, knowing how I stand to Bradley, 
 will ask me questions. I think it s only fair that 
 I should know how to answer them." 
 
 " Now thou talks common sense. If any 
 one asks thee where Mr. Joe is, tell them he is 
 with his godfather, Samuel Yorke of Spin 
 ning-Jenny street, Manchester. They ll meb- 
 be ask, too, why he is there, and ta can tell 
 them he hes gone to learn Yorke s business. 
 Thou can add thet his awn family approve all 
 he hes done, and thet I hev promised to tak 
 his place as far as I can, till he gets through 
 his prenticeship. If they want to know any
 
 204 MASTER OF HIS PATE. 
 
 more, send em to me. I m none too old to 
 thresh a few ideas into their bones, that won t 
 go in through their ears. You hev to lick 
 wisdom into some folks, there s no other 
 way." 
 
 " Mrs. Braithwaite, at any rate, seems quite 
 happy and satisfied." 
 
 " Mrs. Braithwaite is an extraordinary 
 woman, sir. How owd Bradley iver came to 
 have such a daughter caps me. She must hev 
 taken after t mother. And Mrs. Braithwaite 
 is quite set up with her husband s energy, and 
 his determination to go in for making money." 
 
 "Still, you can t help people wondering why 
 Mr. Joe did not go to his own father, if he 
 wanted to be a spinner." 
 
 " Nobody can help being born meddlers and 
 foolish busybodies. Does ta think I want 
 another woolen mill so near my own ? Does 
 ta think I want my son for a business rival ? 
 Does ta think I want to hear old customers 
 say, If ta can t let me hev this yarn at such a 
 figure, I sail go to thy son for it ? But a cot 
 ton mill ! That is thread of a different color. 
 I d like to hev a cotton mill about as far off as 
 Bradley. It won t do me a mite o harm. It
 
 JOE RISES IN ESTEEM. 205 
 
 be rather a good thing for my property ; 
 it ll raise t price of it, and I hev, as ta knows, 
 a goodish bit o property in that direction." 
 
 " Mr Braithwaite, give me your hand. You 
 are the most far-seeing and sensible man I hap 
 pen to hev among my clients and acquaint 
 ances. I respect you, sir." 
 
 " I thought ta would choose to find out t 
 truth about me, someday or other. Now 
 we ll walk a bit down t park. I want to hev 
 a talk wi thee about it." Rather reluctantly 
 Perkins acquiesced. He did not relish this 
 interference, but if Amos was acting for the 
 lady of the manor he was in no way over-step 
 ping his power ; and it became Perkins duty 
 to listen to his instructions. Still, Amos was 
 undoubtedly irritating. He was not conscious 
 of his authoritative air, nor of that excessive 
 faithfulness to Edith s interests which was 
 natural to the newness of his relationship to 
 her ; but Perkins was conscious of it. In his 
 heart he was calling him very uncompliment 
 ary things as they returned from their walk. 
 
 It was then twilight, and they met Edith in 
 the hall as they entered it. 
 
 " Go into the parlor, Mr. Perkins," she
 
 206 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 said ; " we shall have tea directly ; and, 
 Father, you must please come with me a few 
 minutes." 
 
 She put her arm through that of Amos 
 and took him with her up the stairway. Per 
 kins stood a moment, watching with amaze 
 ment and some scorn, the old man s excessive 
 politeness, and the air of pride and satisfaction 
 which he unconsciously betrayed. Then he 
 sat down in the parlor, and watched the foot 
 man bring in some exquisite tea-cups of royal 
 Worcester upon a silver salver. He reflected, 
 that though he had frequently taken tea at 
 Bradley, the royal Worcester had never been 
 brought out in his honor. The circumstance, 
 slight as it was, gave him the key of the posi 
 tion. It was evident Amos had come to Brad 
 ley as a favored ruler, and that it would be to 
 his interest to indorse all that Amos desired. 
 Since he could not supersede him, the next 
 best move was to work with him. 
 
 In the mean time Edith had taken Amos to a 
 large, lovely room, profusely ornamented, and 
 draped with pale pink. In the very center of 
 it stood a little cot, a drift of snowy linen and 
 lace, and fast asleep within it the loveliest of
 
 JOE RISES IN ESTEEM. 207 
 
 babies. He had had his bath, and been dressed 
 in fresh lawn, and then gone to rest so per 
 fectly happy that he diffused around him a 
 balmy feeling of blissful and beautiful re 
 pose. 
 
 " Look at little Joe, father ! " 
 
 " My word ! Hey, Edith, he is a beauty ! " 
 
 And the proud mother, and equally proud 
 grandfather, stood silent a few minutes before 
 the small monarch, and then tip-toed themselves 
 gently out of his presence. The innocent babe, 
 the lovely mother, the shrewd, world-worn old 
 man what telling contrasts they unconsciously 
 made ! Nor were they without some influence, 
 upon each other, for as they came quietly down 
 stairs Edith slipped her hand into her father s 
 hand, and thus, to Perkins wonderment, they 
 entered the room together. 
 
 After tea, Perkins rose to depart. " Take a 
 seat in my gig," said Amos. " We ll tie thy 
 horse behind it." 
 
 " Father, you are surely not going to Bevin 
 to-night ? " 
 
 "Why, yes, my lass. I niver thought of any 
 other thing but going back to-night." 
 
 " But I must go to church to-morrow ; I was
 
 208 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 not there last Sunday, and I really can not 
 go unless you go with me." 
 
 " Oh, but ta knows, I niver go to church. I 
 hev got out of t way of such doings. Aunt 
 Martha will go wi thee, I ll warrant." 
 
 "I shall go to t Wesleyan Chapel, Amos. It 
 is thy place to go wi Edith. I don t see how 
 ta can get off going." 
 
 Perkins was listening with an amused face to 
 this discussion, and his smile decided Amos. 
 Very well," he answered. "I ll go; I m t 
 right person to go, I dare say, and there s varry 
 few that wouldn t like to be in my place, I m 
 sure." 
 
 So Perkins rode home alone, and the next 
 morning Amos escorted his daughter-in-law to 
 Bradley Church. They made a little sensation 
 when they entered, for Amos Braithwaite was 
 a well-known man, even far beyond Bradley. 
 And he was, also, a much respected man. His 
 public and commercial character stood very 
 high, and his domestic and religious character 
 was so comfortably negative that no one fell 
 compelled to regard him through it. 
 
 Perhaps the service did not do him much 
 good, as it only intensified his complacent sat-
 
 JOE RISES IN ESTEEM. 209 
 
 isfaction with himself ; but he paid scrupulous 
 attention to it, and he left a golden token of 
 his presence in the offertory plate, which was 
 gratifying to the church-wardens. As he was 
 coming out of church, while waiting in the 
 crowded porch for the Bradley carriage, he had 
 one of those small social triumphs to which he 
 was keenly sensitive. The Hon. Mr. Latrays, 
 M. P., for whose election Amos had done a 
 great deal, came forward and accosted him 
 with much apparent pleasure. Edith asked 
 the stranger to dinner, and the invitation was 
 at once accepted ; and it is certain that things 
 of far greater importance would not have 
 given Amos half the pleasure that driving 
 away with the M. P. by his side did. 
 
 It was a Sunday full of satisfaction to him. 
 Mr. Latrays remained all night at Bradley, and 
 on Monday morning went back to Bevin with 
 Amos, in order to examine some improvements 
 in the machinery of Bevin mill. They had 
 had long and delightful discussions on all the 
 subjects so perennially interesting to men of 
 the world. Amos had done himself justice, 
 and been complimented on his daughter and 
 grandson, and almost extravagantly so upon
 
 210 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 the extraordinary self-denial of his energetic 
 son. 
 
 " How few men in England, owning a place 
 like this," said Mr. Latrays, with a grand sweep 
 of his white hand " how few would ever have 
 thought of learning the working-man s needs 
 and feelings by entering personally into his 
 labors and limitations. Your son will make 
 an irresistible Radical candidate, sir, I assure 
 you." 
 
 This was a view of Joe s conduct which had 
 never before struck his father, but he immedi 
 ately recognized its importance, though he 
 contented himself with looking wise and sym 
 pathetic, and saying nothing. For he remem 
 bered that Perkins had once spoken of Joe 
 running on the Radical side of politics, and he 
 admitted to himself that Perkins was a far- 
 seeing man, with a faculty of allying himself 
 with good fortune, and drifting towards suc 
 cessful sides. 
 
 Aunt Martha s departure followed close on 
 that of Amos. She had determined to sell her 
 furniture and go back to Bevin Hall. " I lived 
 with him twenty years, and I can live with him 
 twenty more," she said to Edith. " Besides, I
 
 JOE RISES IN ESTEEM. 211 
 
 hev thee to help me, now, and when thou says 
 yes he seems to hev forgotten how to say no, 
 though contradiction used to be natural as 
 breathing to him." 
 
 "And you will not be so lonely, Aunt 
 Martha, for little Joe and I will come every 
 week to see you ; and also -you will be among 
 all your old acquaintances at Market-Bevin." 
 
 " I have been a bit lonely, sometimes," said 
 Martha. 
 
 " And in any dispute I shall always agree 
 with you. When there are two women against 
 one man, he can t impose very much on either 
 of them." 
 
 " As to that, it s mebbe better to hev one 
 man ordering around than to hev to fight for 
 your own with ivery penny tradesman you deal 
 wi . I hev hed a hard time wi butchers, and 
 grocers, and milkmen. At Bevin they know 
 they ll hev to settle wi Amos, and they re par 
 ticular both as to quality and quantity. Bless 
 your heart, Edith, there s no one in this world 
 more to be pitied than a lone woman trying 
 to mak her awn living. If she s clever, all the 
 fools hate her ; if she isn t clever, then they 
 cheat her. I ve seen worse folks than Amos
 
 212 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 Braithwaite since I began to tak lodgers, and 
 I m not sorry to be going back to Bevin." 
 
 " When may I come and see you there? " 
 
 " I sud think a week from next Wednesday, 
 I sail hev some comfartable place for thee." 
 
 But Martha found things much worse than 
 she had expected. The whole house had to be 
 refurnished, and she was astonished to find 
 that Amos took quite eagerly to the idea. He 
 took pleasant counsel with the two women 
 about it, and let Edith drive him here and 
 there in search of papers, and damasks, and 
 new ornaments. In a few weeks the old house 
 was thoroughly renovated and refurnished, 
 and Edith could go there and drink tea in as 
 handsome a parlor and out of as exquisite 
 china as at Bradley. And it was wonderful 
 how easily and naturally one improvement 
 brought on another, until the garden, the 
 stables, and even the wardrobe of Amos, 
 showed the feminine influence to which he had 
 been gradually subjected. 
 
 In the same interval, Joe and Edith were 
 getting into closer sympathy with each other 
 than they had ever before known. Long, lov 
 ing letters, in which each told the other, not
 
 JOE RISES IN ESTEEM. 213 
 
 only the minutest incidents of their daily lives, 
 but also their struggles with discouragements, 
 weariness, their longings, resolves, suc 
 cesses and failures; led them gradually to 
 understand how much of nobility there had 
 been in each heart, unguessed by the other. 
 Every such letter was a link of the chain bind 
 ing them more closely together. They grew 
 familiar with each other, accustomed to saying 
 affectionate words, not ashamed to confess how 
 sadly they had undervalued their past, how 
 eagerly they looked forward to their future. 
 Joe was as anxious for his letters as the most 
 eager lover, and though Samuel Yorke had 
 been quite right in saying that Joe would 
 be too tired to want any thing but his bed 
 at night, he nevertheless found writing to his 
 wife as refreshing as sleep. 
 
 After a while, Edith began to read portions 
 of Joe s letters, describing his life and work, 
 to Amos as he smoked his pipe by the parlor 
 fire, or strolled with her in the garden after 
 dinner. They were certainly very fine letters, 
 and both the wife and father grew to wonder 
 fully respect the writer. Edith always praised 
 them extravagantly ; Amos said very little, but
 
 214 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 as he stroked his chin complacently he con 
 gratulated himself upon having such a remark 
 ably clever son. 
 
 One day, Joe had been sent to Liverpool to 
 buy cotton. He had gone frequently with his 
 godfather, but this time he had been trusted to 
 use his own judgment. The result had been 
 very satisfactory ; and Joe s letter described so 
 vividly the cotton exchange, with its crowd of 
 eager merchants and cautious buyers, that 
 Edith could not wait for her usual visit. She 
 ordered her carriage and went at once to Bevin 
 Hall. 
 
 It was the middle of the afternoon when she 
 got there, and Amos was at the mill. But 
 there was Martha, always ready to hear and to 
 believe any wonderful thing of Joe. And 
 baby s ailments and baby s intelligence had to 
 be discussed anew, and some newly furnished 
 spare bed-rooms to be admired, and thus the 
 time passed very pleasantly until Amos came 
 home. 
 
 Amos was much impressed by the letter, for 
 he knew, if Yorke trusted Joe to buy cotton, 
 he had great reliance on his abilities, and the 
 witty, pithy descriptions of life and character
 
 JOE RISES IN ESTEEM. 215 
 
 interested him very much. When Edith had 
 left, he remained a long time silent, occasion 
 ally lifting his eyes to Martha, who was busy 
 hemming some of the fine damask just bought. 
 Finally, he took his pipe from his mouth, and 
 said : 
 
 " Martha, we hev been a bit in t dark about 
 Joe. He seems to be a varry unusual young 
 man." 
 
 " Speak for thysen, Amos. I allays said Joe 
 was a varry unusual young man. If he sud go 
 to Parliament and sit at t queen s right hand, 
 I sud not feel a bit of surprise at it." 
 
 " Joe tak s after me a good deal. I used to 
 hev just such ideas about men and things as he 
 hes." 
 
 " Thee ! " 
 
 " To be sure I lied. But I niver hed any 
 education, and I couldn t write them down on 
 paper, and I niver hed any one to talk to." 
 
 " Tell the truth, Amos. Thou wert far too 
 busy making money to either write or talk ; 
 and if such thoughts iver did come into thy 
 head, thou sent them packing to the tune of 
 . s. d. I ll warrant thou did." 
 
 "I say Joe takes after me Martha."
 
 216 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 " Joe takes after his mother. He s got all 
 t* talents he has from her." 
 
 " I say Joe takes after me." 
 
 " When he settles down to money-making, 
 he will take after thee ; not until then, Amos."
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 CALUMNY. 
 
 * f There s noan sa blind but they can see 
 
 Sum fawts i other men ; 
 I ve sometimes met wi folk at thought 
 They saw sum i theirsen." 
 
 " Be thou chaste as ice, as pure as snow, 
 Thou shall not escape calumny." 
 
 /^CCUPATION is the best armor of the 
 \J soul, and these affairs had kept Edith busy 
 during the first weeks of her separation from 
 Joe. At the very time when that fateful jour 
 ney to Manchester took place, she had been 
 trying to decide upon some plan for the sum 
 mer. Joe had suggested Switzerland, and she 
 had inclined to Scarborough. " We cannot go 
 with less than three servants," she said, " and 
 a baby and three servants in Switzerland 
 will cost a great deal ; besides, I think baby 
 wants sea air." Joe had made no objections, 
 and he had fully expected to share the sum. 
 mer s toilsome search after pleasure.
 
 218 MASTER OF -HIS FATE. 
 
 For though the Manchester scheme was in 
 his mind, he had no idea of bringing it so 
 suddenly and sharply into form and purpose ; 
 no idea that his plans were to finally determine 
 those of his wife. But the first decision Edith 
 came to, when she \vas left to her own decis 
 ions, was, that she must remain in her home. 
 To wander about the continent without Joe 
 was impossible, and she had no mind to brave 
 the shrugs and suppositions and suspicions of 
 a fashionable watering-place. Under her own 
 roof, with such protection as her husband s 
 relatives could give her, she felt sure no one 
 would dare to interfere in her personal affairs 
 or darken her good name. 
 
 Her very position made her fearless of offence 
 on this ground. Over her manor, her sway was 
 in a measure absolute. No one had ever pre 
 sumed to discuss her doings. Even her mar 
 riage had provoked no adverse criticisms. She 
 could scarcely imagine people interfering in 
 her private affairs, much less making her in any 
 way conscious that they had been guilty of 
 such presumption. 
 
 And, in another way, Amos was quite as 
 proud and comfortable. It was a well under-
 
 CALUMNY. 219 
 
 stood thing in his circle that those who med 
 dled with Amos Braithwaite would be apt to 
 get more than they looked for. Amos never 
 forgave such interferences, and he had ar 
 rived at a position which generally enabled 
 him to make prompt and severe reprisals. If 
 Luke Bradley had been alive in those days, he 
 would have found a quarrel with Amos Braith 
 waite a very serious matter. So Amos, during 
 these summer months, had gone on re-furnish 
 ing his house, and devoting all his spare hours 
 to his daughter-in-law, without any idea that 
 people were expressing themselves in no very 
 flattering terms concerning them. 
 
 True, Perkins had told him what Arncliff 
 had said, and even intimated that others had 
 ventured on similar opinions ; but Amos had 
 understood that all such adverse criticism re 
 ferred to Joe ; and he was not very sure but 
 Joe deserved it ; though he always concluded 
 such a private admission with the muttered 
 threat " Let me hear tell o them saying 
 aught against Joe. My word ! but I ll mak 
 em sorry for it." 
 
 However, when the summer was over, when 
 the rector and his wife returned from Norway,
 
 220 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 and Lady Wilson from the Rhine, and Lady 
 Charlton from the Scotch Highlands, and other 
 lesser social lights from the English watering 
 places, it was not long before Edith was com 
 pelled to notice how far she had fallen in the 
 sight of such exclusives. She had never been 
 a popular woman, most of her social equals had 
 little scores against her, and they did not think 
 it unpleasant to have such a good excuse for 
 settling them. How skilful women are in 
 such retaliations most people have had oppor 
 tunities to discover. 
 
 And, as it happened, the first Sunday when 
 Edith met all these adverse critics in church, 
 was just the very first Sunday Amos had been 
 prevented from accompanying her. She had 
 become by this time so accustomed to Joe s 
 absence that it had ceased to be a matter of 
 consideration with her how it affected others 
 than herself. She had not even now the slight 
 est objection to appear in her pew alone. She 
 was perfectly satisfied with the position and 
 prospects of her affairs, and she had quite for 
 gotten, or quite ignored, the fact that society 
 considered she owed some explanation, per 
 haps even some apology to it, for circum-
 
 CALUMNY. 221 
 
 stances so unusual. As soon as she entered 
 church that Sabbath morning, she was aware 
 of an antagonistic feeling ; for spiteful and con 
 temptuous women contrive to charge the very 
 atmosphere with their ill-will ; though how 
 they do so is one of those spiritual miracles 
 science is not yet able to explain. Yet, as she 
 walked with a certain majesty of carriage up 
 the aisle, she felt the evil influence rained upon 
 her from eyes full of dislike and contempt, and 
 through the solemn litany she was aware that 
 the women so glibly calling themselves miser 
 able sinners were thinking of her as the self- 
 complacent Pharisee thought of the publican. 
 Coming out of church, the rector s wife was 
 the first of her own set whom she encountered. 
 She was an admirable woman, of fine family 
 and exceedingly proper opinions ; too just to 
 altogether condemn Edith without adequate 
 hearing ; too polite to positively snub a person 
 who met her with congratulations and pleasant 
 hopes. But she dropped her short sentence as 
 if each word had been iced, and turned away 
 with an "excuse me," which palpably meant, 
 " I consider your attentions something very 
 like an impertinence."
 
 222 MASTER OF HIS FATS. 
 
 Many eyes had watched this interview. It 
 was rigidly copied by some, while others took 
 it as a license for still more marked disappro 
 val, so that the aisle and porch of Bradley 
 Church was a place of intolerable humiliation 
 to Edith that day. 
 
 " Oh, Joe, Joe ! " she cried in the solitude to 
 which her wounded feelings drove her, " Oh, 
 Joe, Joe, if you had been here ! " 
 
 For long it was all she could say, all she 
 could think of, if only Joe had been there. 
 And it is in precisely such trials as these that 
 women suffer without help. Even very good 
 women, socially wronged and humiliated, do 
 not feel as if they have any right to carry such 
 troubles to the ear of God Almighty. A sort 
 of false shame holds them back. " How can 
 
 God care whether Mrs. A or Lady B 
 
 speaks to me or not ? " If Edith had put her 
 thoughts into words, they would have been on 
 that wise. 
 
 But God does care. No matter how small 
 the thorn that hurts the feet of His child, He 
 cares about the wound. He knows that it is 
 pfeciscly these small thorns that cause the bit 
 terest, often the most depressing, suffering.
 
 CALUMNY. 223 
 
 They fret, and rankle, and fester, and, perhaps 
 without doing vital harm, how they can worry 
 and annoy ! If there is a positive wrong, there 
 is the law for redress ; but the glance, of the 
 half-shut eye, the withdrawn garment, the 
 withheld hand, what legal skill can punish 
 them ? A coat of mail may defy the lance, but 
 what armor is there against a thorn ? " 
 
 So Edith chafed and suffered all that day,, 
 as she had never suffered in her life before. 
 Yet, though she wrote a long letter to Joe, she 
 had the wisdom and patience to say nothing of 
 her trouble. Her heart ached for his love and 
 his protection, but why should she ask him to 
 leave plans and projects for their future which 
 were full of profit and pleasure ? Was it worth 
 while trying to win the half-approval of people, 
 evidently so ready and so pleased to condemn 
 her ? At least, they might have waited for her 
 explanation. Then she grew angry, and asked 
 herself why she should condescend to explain 
 matters at all to her neighbors. They had noth 
 ing to do with her. She asked nothing from 
 them. She would not trouble herself, and 
 certainly she would not trouble Joe about their 
 liking or their disliking.
 
 *24 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 Still, she did not sleep at all that night; 
 and the whispering of evil thoughts about her 
 made her ears tingle and her heart ache. For 
 she saw the scornful faces and heard the cruel 
 xvords that were beyond bodily sight and hear 
 ing. Something far more intangible than a 
 bird of the air carries such intelligence, and 
 sitting alone in her room that Sabbath Edith 
 knew, as certainly as if she had been actually 
 present, how her name and her affairs were 
 thrown from one spiteful mouth to another. 
 
 It was a dreary day, also, one of those wet 
 days which at the end of September are so un 
 speakably dreary. The servants who had been 
 going out were disappointed, and they con 
 trived to infuse some of their own discontent 
 through all the house. In the evening there 
 was a quarrel in the kitchen, which the butler 
 had to call Edith to settle. Little Joe s nurse 
 was crying with her share of it, and the child 
 himself, missing some element of his usual sat 
 isfaction, cried a good deal also. 
 
 " What a perfectly wretched day it has 
 been ! " said Edith, as she at length recognized 
 the fact that the whole cross, weary house 
 hold had gone to sleep. " To-morrow morn-
 
 CALUMNY. 225 
 
 ing, wet or fine, I shall go and tell father every 
 thing. There is one comfort about him ; he 
 always knows what to do, and he is not afraid 
 to do it." 
 
 The next morning was bright and lovely, 
 with just a suspicion of frost in the air. Edith 
 had partially recovered her mental strength and 
 tone ; and her rich and careful toilet was in 
 sympathy with the mood of self-assertion which 
 had followed her collapse of the previous day. 
 For somehow the flowing silk and the long vel 
 vet mantle seemed but the materialization of 
 the proud and resentful thoughts which made 
 her carry herself with a haughty and almost 
 defiant air. 
 
 When she arrived at Bevin Hall it was about 
 noon. Since Martha s return there, Amos had 
 gone back to his custom of having his dinner 
 at that old-fashioned hour. " I had my dinner 
 at twelve o clock for fifty years, Martha," he 
 said, " and it s nobbut natural 1 sud like it 
 best." And as the arrangement permitted 
 Martha to have the main household duties fin 
 ished early in the day, Amos found his noon 
 dinner gave general satisfaction. 
 
 A few minutes after Edith s arrival, he came
 
 226 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 in dusty and hungry, and in one of his Grossest 
 moods. 
 
 " Oh," said Edith, rising up impetuously, " I 
 am so glad to see you, father." 
 
 "Happen ta is, but, to tell t truth, I m none 
 so glad to see thee at this time of t day. My 
 mind is full o yarns and Israel Sutcliffe. Sut- 
 cliffe has been up to meanness, and I ll hev to 
 teach him that honesty is t best policy, even 
 if a man thinks of it as low down as that." 
 
 " I am sorry you are busy, for I am in trou 
 ble, and I counted on your help." 
 
 " Why, then, folks that count on me aren t 
 apt to find me worth naught. Whativer 
 trouble is ta in now? Joe and thee again?" 
 
 " Father ! Joe never gave me any trouble." 
 
 " Oh, he didn t ! Then I m far mistaken. I 
 might hev known, though, thou would go back 
 on me. That s what folks get, and deserve to 
 get, who meddle with man and wife. Who s 
 troubling thee, then ? Perkins, I ll be bound. 
 If it s him, he d better take care ; I d like a 
 fight wi him, oncommon well." 
 
 " It is not Perkins, father. It is the rector s 
 wife, and Lady Wilson, and Lady Charlton, 
 and Mrs. Lumley, and Mrs. Pennington
 
 CALUMNY. 227 
 
 "Will ta be quiet ? What am I to do be. 
 twcen thee and a lot o women ? 1 know a 
 deal better than to touch a job o that kind." 
 
 " But you must make them behave them 
 selves, father." 
 
 Then Amos laughed with a heartiness that 
 finally made both Martha and Edith join him. 
 " Mak t rector s wife, and Sir Thomas Wil 
 son s wife, and Major Pennington s wife, and 
 Squire Lumley s wife behave themselves ! 
 Why, my lass, I niver managed to mak my own 
 wife do as I wanted her to do, and " 
 
 " Thou had better say nothin about my sis 
 ter Ann, Amos." 
 
 " And how does ta think I can manage other 
 men s wives? Thet is a bit o wool above my 
 spinning, Edith, or mebbe I d like to try it," 
 
 " Listen, father." Then she described to 
 him, as well as she could, the ordeal through 
 which she had been made to pass on the pre 
 vious day; and soon she saw from the gather 
 ing color in his face, and the quick, passionate 
 flashes in his eyes, that he was catching fire at 
 her anger. 
 
 He was eating his dinner as he listened, a 
 process usually thought to induce kindly feel-
 
 228 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 ing; but Amos rose from the table full of wrath. 
 And when Edith added, with a look of reproach 
 ful love, " You see, father, it is partly your 
 fault, because if you had been with me no one 
 would have dared even an insulting glance " 
 Amos was deeply roused. 
 
 " My lass," he answered, " I m sorry I didn t 
 let ivery thing go, and tak thee to church, as 
 I sud hev done. And thou art right ; I ll tak 
 varry good care neither man nor woman in 
 sults thee as long as I hev t charge in Joe s 
 place. Go thy ways home, and do just as thou 
 hes allays done ; and go wheriver ta likes to go, 
 and leave t rest to me. My word ! If they 
 want to talk badly about thee, they ll hev to 
 pay a high figure for it thet is, their husbands 
 will, for I ll tak it out o them ivery way. I ll 
 warrant I can mak both a horse-whip and a 
 lawyer s bill varry unpleasant things." 
 
 Then he went off to his mill again, and the 
 man who was wanting time on his yarns, and 
 the hands whose pieces had a flaw in them, had 
 a bad settlement that afternoon with Amos. 
 
 That night he was unusually silent over his 
 pipe, but Martha let him alone. She knew 
 that sooner or later he would seek her advice.
 
 CALUMNY. 229 
 
 About eight o clock he sent a note to Perkins, 
 and then he turned to her and said, 
 
 " Martha, thou ought to know what mak of 
 stuff is in women. What does ta think they hev 
 been saying about our Edith?" 
 
 " Why 1 then, Amos, I don t hev to guess 
 what they hev been saying. Eliza Yates hes 
 a sister living at Lady Charlton s ; and Eliza 
 heard a good bit from her." 
 
 " Does ta mind telling me ? " 
 
 " Why, Amos, there s no good in repeating 
 ill words." 
 
 " I ll be bound thou repeated them to 
 Edith." 
 
 " No, I didn t. What does ta take me for ? 
 Does ta think thou hes a monopoly of all t 
 sense and kindness there is in this part York 
 shire ? But if ta wants to know how women 
 talk, I ll tell thee. One said there was no won 
 der that Edith and thee suited each other so 
 well, two bad-tempered, self-willed tyrants that 
 niver let poor Joe Braithwaite hev a thought o 
 his own nor a half-penny of his own to spend." 
 
 " They ought to be ashamed o themselves I 
 Such lies." 
 
 " They said, too, that thou hed driven Joe
 
 230 MASTER OF HIS FATE 
 
 from Bevin, and that Edith had driven him 
 from Bradley." 
 
 "As if Joe was such a feather-weight fool as 
 to be driven from pillar to post by an owd 
 father and a young wife he would deserve it." 
 
 " Driven from both places wi tempers, and 
 black looks, and ordering ways as no man could 
 stand." 
 
 "Well then, aught else?" 
 
 " Ay, Jeremiah Wade hed told some one, 
 who told Major Pennington, that he hed been 
 in Samuel Yorke s factory, and hed seen Joe in 
 a flannel shirt and blue apron, working like a 
 common man and his wife living in t lap o 
 luxury, as they say and such and such like." 
 
 "Well, then?" 
 
 " Oh, it s all nonsense. Ta knows Eliza heard 
 some queer talk about thy friend Mr. Latrays 
 being there so often ; and Mr. Latrays hed said 
 in a room full o company at Sir Thomas Wil 
 son s that he considered Mrs. Joe Braithwaite 
 a most remarkably beautiful woman." 
 
 "Ay, that ud hurt em badly, no doubt. So 
 she is ! A most remarkably beautiful woman. 
 Mr. Latrays thinks right. He things as I do. 
 Joe hes my taste about women. So Mr. Lat-
 
 CALUMNY. 231 
 
 rays said she was beautiful, right to their faces. 
 He sail have my vote as long as I live." 
 
 " And ta sees, Amos, he kind o slighted other 
 ladies in praising her so much ; and people 
 thought it varry improper of him. It was fool 
 ish, I ll say that mysen." 
 
 " It was honest, and true, and friend-like. If 
 Jack Latrays wants a thousand pounds for his 
 next election, he can hev it." 
 
 " People thought his praise of her very im 
 proper, Edith being, they said, as good, or as 
 bad as a deserted wife." 
 
 " Deserted wife, indeed ! She s nowt of t 
 sort ! I ll mak them eat their own words, and 
 it will be a meal as will mak them a bit sick, I 
 think. What else did they say?" 
 
 " Well, they gave thee thy character too. 
 Lady Charlton thought there had been a mis 
 take, and that Edith would hev done better if 
 she hed married t father instead of t son. Oh, 
 ta knows how they would talk, what s t good 
 of saying more? " 
 
 " No, thet s enough, I m sure ! Did ta hear 
 tell of t men saying either this or that ? " 
 
 " Squire Lumley said Edith had a temper like 
 that biting, kicking hunter of his that he calls
 
 232 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 Satan, but I know how that comes. He bed too 
 much wine at t last Hunt Ball, and he spoke to 
 Edith, and she said a few words to him that he 
 well deserved from every woman. But he is 
 taking it out of her to-day." 
 
 " Never mind ! I ll tak it out o him to-mor 
 row. He went off this summer about t time 
 Joe went, and he doesn t know, happen, that 
 Edith hes me at her back. But I hev some 
 paper o his, and I know where to buy plenty 
 more, and if he doesn t mind I ll hang a red 
 flag out of his windows varry soon. Men that 
 owe money should keep a civil tongue in their 
 heads. I ll teach Lumley that lesson, if he 
 niver learns another."
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 AMOS MAKES MORNING CALLS. 
 
 " And often I have heard defended, 
 Little said is soonest mended." 
 
 " Just hint a fault and hesitate dislike." Pope. 
 
 " A generous friendship no cold medium knows, 
 Burns with one love, with one resentment glows." 
 
 " JOSHUA PERKINS, ESQ. DEAR SIR: 
 Buy up for me ivery scrap of Squire 
 J Lumley s paper thou can get thy fingers 
 on ; and send thy clerk Jonas Sutcliffe to Bevin 
 Mill to-morrow morning at ten o clock. Let 
 him bring some o thy legal cap and a pen 
 and ink-horn with him. I want him to take 
 down a few bits of conversation for me. 
 "Thine truly, 
 
 " AMOS BRAITHWAITE." 
 
 This message gave Perkins considerable food 
 for thought ; but he complied exactly with the 
 requisition, reflecting, as he did so, that, as the 
 service was an unusual one, he could charge it 
 without reference to any customary rate. So f
 
 234 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 at ten o clock precisely, Jonas Sutcliffe, with 
 the professional blue bag, was waiting at Bevin 
 Mill such orders as Amos had to give him. 
 
 Amos was in his gig, and he bid Jonas take 
 a seat beside him. " We are going to Charlton 
 House," he said, " and I want thee ta tak 
 partic lar notice of ivery word that is passed. 
 I ll mebbe put thee on t witness stand about 
 them. Hes ta such a thing as a card on thee ? " 
 
 Jonas took one from his pocket-book and 
 gave it to Amos. " Mr. Jonas Sutcliffe," and 
 on the left-hand corner, " With Joshua Perkins, 
 Esq., Attorney-at-law." 
 
 " That is t varry thing. It will get us an 
 audience, I hev no doubt." 
 
 But it was still early when they arrived at 
 Charlton House, and the butler was very uncer 
 tain whether my lady would see any one, as he 
 asked if the gentlemen would send their cards. 
 
 " Give that fellow thy card, Mr. Sutcliffe. I 
 hevn t such a thing. Thine will do for us both, 
 I ll warrant." 
 
 The card interested Lady Charlton. She 
 wondered what two of Perkins clerks could 
 possibly want with her ; besides which, she had 
 on a new morning gown, and was not averse to
 
 AMOS MAKES MORNING CALLS. 235 
 
 displaying herself in it. The early hours of the 
 day were always tedious ; any thing that broke 
 their monotony was welcome. So she gave 
 orders to admit the strangers to her presence, 
 and in the interval thought it worth while to 
 assume, for their benefit, her most elegant and 
 dignified attitude. 
 
 Amos entered first. She knew him at once, 
 and her heart gave a little flutter of fear. 
 Something in the man s face annoyed her an- 
 ticipatively, but she rose, against her intention 
 to do so, and with a pleasant smile and greet 
 ing offered him her hand. 
 
 Amos let his eyes fall on the long, white, 
 jewelled fingers, and answered bluntly, " Nay, 
 my lady, not yet. I m not one of them that 
 claps hands wi ivery body. I hev come to ask 
 thee a few questions about my daughter-in-law, 
 Mrs. Joe Braithwaite." 
 
 " Oh, indeed, Mr. Braithwaite, I can tell you 
 nothing about the lady." 
 
 " Put that down, will ta, Mr. Sutcliffe." 
 
 " Mr. Braithwaite, I will not permit the 
 words I say in my own house to be put down. 
 What right have you to come here on any such 
 errand. You will leave my presence at once."
 
 236 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 " Well now, I thought I was acting varry 
 considerate. I thought thou would rather 
 hev thy words put down in thy awn house 
 than in a public court-room." 
 
 " What do you mean, Mr. Braithwaite ? " 
 
 " I mean this. There has been some scan 
 dalous things said o my daughter, and I am 
 going to irmk them as said em stand up to 
 ivery word and prove it, or else pay a few thou 
 sand pounds for t pleasure they took in speak 
 ing ill of a better woman than themsens." 
 
 " What have I to do with this affair ? " 
 
 " I sud say a good deal. The report came 
 from thy house." 
 
 " I never said any thing against Mrs. Braith 
 waite. It was Mrs. Lumley and Mrs. Penning- 
 ton. I can t prevent people talking, Mr. Braith 
 waite." 
 
 "Put that down, Mr. Sutcliffe. And so, 
 Lady Charlton, thou niver said that Mrs. Joe 
 Braithwaite hed driven her husband out of his 
 house? " 
 
 " I am not obliged to answer your questions, 
 sir." 
 
 " Certainly not. If thou prefers Joshua Per 
 kins to cross-question thee."
 
 AMOS MAKES MORNING CALLS, 237 
 
 " And I am very sure I should not answer 
 Mr. Perkins." 
 
 "Then ta would find out varry soon what 
 contempt o court meant. But please thysen. 
 Either in thy awn house, or in t public court 
 house, thou wilt hev to deny, or else prove, all 
 that hes been said about my daughter. If ta 
 likes to do it in public best, I haven t an ob 
 jection to mak , I m sure." 
 
 " I am sure I never said that Mrs. Braith- 
 waite had driven her husband from his 
 home." 
 
 " I m glad ta didn t. Put that down, Mr. 
 Sutcliffe. Now thin, did ta say that she hed 
 the devil s awn temper ? " 
 
 " I am not accustomed to speak of the 
 
 of that person. I did not compare Mrs. Braith- 
 waite with him, in any respect." 
 
 " Did ta say that Mr. Latrays went a dea) 
 too often to see her ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Did ta iver say that she wouldn t let her 
 husband have a halfpenny to spend, and that 
 he were compelled to work as a common 
 laborer for t bread he ate and t roof that 
 covered him ? "
 
 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 " I never said any thing of the kind. I may 
 have heard it said, but I am not responsible for 
 that." 
 
 " I sail not mak thee responsible for any 
 body s lies but thy awn. Did ta iver say that 
 her husband hed deserted her, and that no 
 decent woman ought to speak to her?" 
 " I heard Mrs. Lumley say that." 
 * And thou didn t sanction it in any way ? * 
 " I did not quarrel with my friend for ex 
 pressing her opinion of your daughter. Why 
 should I ? " 
 
 " But is Mrs. Lumley s opinion thy opinion ?" 
 " Mr. Braithwaite, I m not forced to tell you 
 my opinions, and I shall not do so." 
 
 " To be sure, if ta tells them to nobody else. 
 I hev no objection to thee thinking as bad as 
 iver ta can of Mrs. Braithwaite, if ta doesn t 
 put thy thoughts into words. When women 
 keep their envy and malice in their awn hearts, 
 there s none but God Almighty and t devil 
 knows it. But when they let their envy and 
 malice bubble out o their mouths, and good 
 folks are likely to be poisoned wi such hell- 
 broth, they hev a right to object to it, I sud 
 say."
 
 AMOS MAKES MORNING CALLS. 239 
 
 " You talk in a very vulgar manner, sir. I 
 am not accustomed to such language." 
 
 " Ay, but I m polite with thee, to what 
 Perkins ud be. But if ta asserts thou knows 
 nothing of Mrs. Braithwaite, and niver said 
 wrong of her, then I hev done with thee, to 
 day." 
 
 " Certainly, I do." 
 
 " Hes ta made notes of all that hes been 
 said, Mr. Sutcliffe?" 
 
 " I have, sir." 
 
 " Then good morning, my lady. And if thou 
 wilt tak my advice, thou won t say another 
 word against Mrs. Braithwaite. If ta does, 
 thou wilt hev to worry it out wi Lawyer 
 Perkins." 
 
 " I have told you that I know nothing against 
 Mrs. Braithwaite. I am not likely to invent 
 any thing against her." 
 
 " I sud think not now." 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 " I am just going, Lady Charlton, but I m no- 
 more inclined to shake hands with you now 
 than I was when I came in. I m a bit partic laf 
 in that way. Come, Sutcliffe." 
 
 Amos was wise enough to see that he had
 
 24 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 frightened Lady Charlton to the very verge of 
 hysteria, and with a comfortable sense of having 
 inflicted a just retribution he left her. He 
 went next to Mrs. Lumley. She met him with 
 considerable bravado ; she did not draw back 
 at all from her position. She did think Mrs. 
 Braithwaite had given great cause for unkind 
 criticism. More the pity! People occupying 
 her rank in the county ought to set a good ex- 
 ample. She was sorry Mrs. Braithwaite had 
 failed. She believed Mr. Latrays had called 
 three or four times, perhaps oftener. And in 
 Mrs. Braithwaite s position, how imprudent ! 
 Even the appearance of evil ought to be avoided. 
 As for Mr. Joe Braithwaite, there was no use 
 denying that every one was sorry for him ; for 
 her part she had quite approved the step he 
 had taken. She was very sorry also for Mrs. 
 Braithwaite. No doubt, if she had any feelings 
 she must suffer under the pressure of public 
 opinion, and if there was any thing actionable 
 in what she said, she was willing to take the 
 consequences. 
 
 " Varry well, ma am," answered Amos ; " I 
 don t say but what I think better o thee for 
 standing up to thy words, even if they be lies,
 
 AMOS MAKES MORNING CALLS. 241 
 
 and if ta wants to fight, Amos Braithwaite isn t 
 the one to refuse a challenge. Only I sail fight 
 with my own weapons, and I sail put thy hus 
 band in thy shoes. I couldn t hit thee hard 
 
 enough, but ," pulling out his pocket-book, 
 
 " I can hit him pretty hard with this bit o 
 paper, and I ll hev a lot more o t same kind o* 
 weapons before to-morrow night. Does ta 
 think I m going to let thee blackguard my 
 daughter for nothing ? " 
 
 " I don t blackguard any one, sir. I am a lady. 
 I will not permit you to apply such dreadful 
 words to me." 
 
 "Thou art a poor mak o a lady, a very poor 
 mak indeed. Thy lady way o being sorry for 
 this, and regretting that, is t varry meanest 
 kind of blackguarding. All t time thou art 
 defaming an innocent woman thou art praising 
 thysen. I m sorry Mrs. Brailhwaite is so 
 wicked ; I wouldn t be so wicked. I don t ap 
 prove of her conduct ; my awn is so much 
 better. Now, then, thou needn t get in a 
 passion. I hev seen thy hand, and I m going 
 away." 
 
 " I consider your coming here at all a very 
 great impertinence, sir."
 
 4 2 MASTER OF HIS FATE, 
 
 " Does ta ? I sud advise thee to pick thy 
 words a bit better. If ta doesn t I ll hev a 
 civiler person put in this house. Thou had 
 better send Squire Lumley to see me; thou art 
 only making a sight o trouble for him. and I 
 sudn t wonder if he gives thee some varry plain 
 English for thy folly. Come, Mr. Sutcliffe, I 
 sail not waste any more time and words here." 
 
 The visit to Mrs. Pennington was more satis 
 factory. Mrs. Pennington regretted the evil 
 talk very much. She had never had a wrong 
 thought of Mrs. Braithwaite ; she admired her 
 very much in every way. She had always said 
 that Mr. Joe Braithwaite s desire to go back to 
 manufacturing was a most admirable feeling; 
 she thought Mrs. Braithwaite deserved great 
 praise for so pleasantly endorsing it. She was 
 so smooth and complimentary that Amos could 
 do nothing but make her notice that all her 
 opinions had been recorded, and that if further 
 events rendered such a step necessary she 
 would have to abide by them. 
 
 It was quite enough. The timid little woman 
 was sick with that vague terror which the least 
 threat of the law can inspire in some breasts. 
 She wept piteously in her own room, and re-
 
 AMOS MAXES MORNING CALLS. 243 
 
 proached without stint that false friendship of 
 Lady Charlton and Mrs. Lumley which had 
 lead her into the dangerous pleasure of defa 
 mation. 
 
 " Now then," said Amos, " I am going to see 
 the rector. If I can get him on my side, he ll 
 manage these women a deal better than I can, 
 and save me time and worry; for I ll tell thee 
 what, Sutcliffe, I d rather give a man a good 
 thrashing than bully a fidgetting, nervous 
 woman, howiver much in t fault she may be." 
 
 " For my part, Mr. Braithwaite, I think that 
 husbands ought to be held responsible for the 
 folly of their wives." 
 
 Amos looked at the young man with wither* 
 ing sarcasm. 
 
 "Thou isn t married, is ta, Sutcliffe?" 
 
 " No, indeed, sir." 
 
 " I thought so." 
 
 " Men should keep their wives in order." 
 
 "To be sure." 
 
 " If I had a wife" 
 
 "She d say and she d do as she liked; and 
 what s more, she d make thee say and do as she 
 liked. Is ta made o different clay from othef 
 men ? I very man is Adam, or worse."
 
 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 "Worse?" 
 
 " Ay ; if he isn t a fool like Adam, he s varry 
 apt to be a brute thet threshes women and 
 children, and thet hes his own way because it is 
 such a wicked, cruel way that no woman would 
 hev it. Don t thee be too clever, Sutcliffe. 
 It s a fault o young men, these days. They 
 know every thing but t main thing, and that is, 
 how very little they do know." 
 
 The rector was walking about his garden, 
 with his hands clasped behind his back, and his 
 face full of placid thought. Amos left Sutcliffe 
 in the gig and joined him. They spoke of many 
 things, ere Amos opened the subject upon which 
 he had come. Indeed, he felt some diffidence 
 about troubling this serene, scholarly man with 
 the idle clash of women s tongues, until he 
 asked 
 
 " Have you any special business with me, 
 Mr. Braithwaite ? You are a man of such great 
 occupations that I can hardly hope you have 
 done me the simple honor of a call." 
 
 "You come very near the truth, sir. While 
 you were in Norway this summer, my son 
 put into execution a plan he has been think 
 ing of for a long time. He went to Man-
 
 AMOS MAKES MORNING CALLS. 245 
 
 Chester to learn cotton spinning with his god 
 father." 
 
 " No harm in that. A very creditable move 
 ment, I should say." 
 
 " People hev made harm out of it. They 
 
 hev said a deal of harm about his wife things 
 
 as seem as if they might be true, but hevn t a 
 word of truth in them," 
 
 " I am very glad to hear you say this, Mr. 
 Braithwaite. Then your daughter-in-law ap 
 proves the step her husband has taken ? " 
 
 " With all her heart." Then Amos was per 
 mitted to make that explanation of affairs 
 which is always satisfactory. He was never 
 interrupted or opposed, and he was distinctly 
 made to feel that he had his listener s sympathy. 
 
 " I think I understand the whole position, 
 Mr. Braithwaite." 
 
 " I have no doubt you do, sir." 
 
 " Mrs. Braithwaite has been placed in a very 
 trying position. Mrs. Clive and myself will do 
 all we can to encourage her in it. Of course 
 we can understand that she would have much 
 preferred her husband to live upon his estate." 
 
 " Perhaps she would. But Joe couldn t do 
 it. The Braithwaites were never landed gentry.
 
 246 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 We came out of the Mill, and my son is only 
 following his natural instinct in wanting to go 
 back to it. And we like to make money. It is 
 a second life to us." 
 
 " I see, I see. And I hope you understand a 
 great deal of money is a great trust, Mr. Braith- 
 waite." 
 
 " I m coming to that, sir. While my Joe is 
 in Manchester, I have promised to be a deal in 
 Bradley, and it s but right I sud do something 
 for t parish. I heard you were intending to 
 found a new school. I d like to give ,500 to it." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Braithwaite. It is a great 
 charity. Your gift is munificent." 
 
 " Nay, it s nowt but right, and I like to do 
 right if folks will let me. I hev been more to 
 Bradley Church this last half year then I hev 
 been to any other church for twenty years. I 
 like to go to church now, and it s only fair I 
 ought to do for t parish according to my 
 means. My daughter was fearing that she 
 could never go there again, but I told her that 
 was nonsense." 
 
 " It would be very wrong, sir. Mrs. Braith 
 waite is lady of Bradley-Manor. We all look 
 to her for help and countenance, and a good
 
 AMOS MAKES MORNING CALLS. 247 
 
 example. With so much dissent around us, 
 churchwomen cannot neglect the service and 
 be innocent. There has evidently been a mis 
 understanding as to her position, I shall take 
 care that it is more clearly and kindly appre 
 ciated." 
 
 " Now then, if ta says that, I sail just go 
 back to my mill, and look after my looms, 
 and if ^500 is not enough for t school I ll be 
 glad and proud to mak it more. I like to give 
 to t church when there s a parson as makes 
 giving a privilege and a pleasure. Good- 
 morning, sir." 
 
 " Good-morning, Mr. Braithwaite. My re 
 spects and Mrs. Clive s respects, also to Mrs. 
 Braithwaite." 
 
 And after Amos had gone the rector con 
 tinued his walk, thinking over the interview, 
 with the flicker of a smile upon his face. But 
 he was a shrewd, as well as a kindly man, and 
 he understood Amos probably better than 
 Amos understood himself. " A little courtesy 
 and simple justice will bring this man into the 
 fold of mother church again, and he is a son 
 that has both the inclination and the power to 
 be generous to his spiritual mother." Thus he
 
 248 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 thought, as he entered his wife s sitting-room, 
 in order to enlist her sympathy and help. 
 
 Mrs. Clive listened with the calm justice that 
 was part of her nature, and was evidently con 
 vinced ; for she answered : " Mrs. Braithwaite 
 was never popular ; she never tried to be ; but 
 there has undoubtedly been misapprehension 
 and I dare say no little unkindness all around. 
 I will make a few calls this week, and I think, 
 after them, people will at least be civil in 
 church. Socially, of course, we are not respon 
 sible for the congregation, and really, William, I 
 must say that I, for one, never did like Mrs. 
 Joe Braithwaite, nor even Miss Edith Bradley, 
 very much. You remember that even before 
 she was married she was self-contained and 
 yet self-asserting. Such women are impracti 
 cable." 
 
 " It is impossible to like every one, but we 
 can be courteous." 
 
 " Certainly, we can be courteous. That is 
 one of the duties of our position. Perhaps it 
 is not always easy or pleasant." 
 " But being a duty we do it ? " 
 "Yes. When did I ever shirk a duty? " 
 On the next Sunday, Edith was inclined to
 
 AMOS MAKES MORNING CALLS. 249 
 
 remain away from church, for she was quite 
 ignorant of the measures Amos had taken 
 during the week. But he would not listen to 
 her fears. He induced her to dress with more 
 than ordinary magnificence. He wrote and 
 invited Mr. Latrays to meet him after church, 
 and return to Bradley and Bevin with him. 
 He supplemented his cheque of $00 with a 50 
 note for the poor of the parish ; and he looked 
 forward with something like triumph to the 
 morning service. 
 
 He was quite satisfied with the result. Mrs. 
 Clive made a point of detaining Edith in order 
 to secure her presence at a meeting to be held 
 at the rectory about the new school. Mrs. 
 Major Pennington was effusively affectionate. 
 Mrs. Lumley swallowed her social pill without 
 a wry face, and Lady Charlton managed her 
 share of the reconciliation by a discreet 
 absence. 
 
 It was the rector himself who put Mrs. Joe 
 in her carriage, and then stood a few moments 
 at its side, talking with Amos and Mr. Latrays 
 humbling himself a little, as a good man will, 
 in order to bring peace and prosperity within 
 the walls of his ovn Zion.
 
 25 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 And when Amos looked at Edith, whose face 
 was flushed with gratification, she answered 
 him with a smile that quite repaid him for the 
 espousal of her cause. And he let Mr. Latrays 
 have more than his share of the conversation, 
 for he was thinking pleasant things of himself 
 " I did right, I did that ! I bullied them 
 envious old women a bit. I put a clear case 
 before t rector who hed t sense to see it 
 and I handed over a tidy cheque as I sud do, 
 in return for a few words I hedn t power o 
 saying mysen. Now, then, it s worth while 
 spending a bit o money to be a kind o provi 
 dence in your own corner of t world, and I 
 think I hev got t value o my 550 ; I do that." 
 
 But he never said any thing to Edith about 
 those four morning calls, until one night long 
 after Joe s return. There was some social dis 
 turbance at the time, and Amos listened to the 
 gossip about it, with a face that puzzled Edith 
 and Joe, until, with a hearty laugh, he burst 
 into a description of his social tactics. "And 
 I ll tell you what, Joe," he added, "if I hedn t 
 been a tip-top spinner, I d hev been a tip-top 
 county society leader. I would hev hed no 
 women s quarrels i my neighborhood, for I
 
 AMOS MAKES MORNIXG CALLS. 251 
 
 sud hev made them tell t* truth, or else pay 
 such a figure for lying about each other that 
 once in a life-time would hev been as much o* 
 that kind o luxury as they could afford."
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 JOE HAS A SURPRISE. 
 
 " Now let us thank the Eternal Power, 
 That oft the cloud which wraps the present hour 
 Serves but to brighten all our future days." 
 
 " If solid happiness we prize, 
 Within our breast this jewel lies ; 
 The world has nothing to bestow, 
 From our own selves our joys must flow." 
 
 TN the mean time cotton-spinning and calico- 
 printing were not all Joe was learning with 
 Samuel Yorke. The man s lofty, simple char- 
 acter and child-like piety were an influence 
 none could habitually resist. There was a 
 spiritual side to Joe s nature which no one had 
 ever suspected, and Samuel Yorke found it 
 out. In their quiet, after-dinner hours con 
 versation always drifted to religious subjects, 
 and Samuel spoke upon them with the fervor 
 of perfect love ; for his piety was a convic 
 tion resting rather upon experience than upon 
 creed.
 
 JOE HAS A SURPRISE. *53 
 
 "Truth is truth," he would say to Joe, "just 
 as bread is bread, whatever shape t loaf may 
 be made. I got my religion with t Methodists, 
 and I like their loaf and stand by it. Just thee 
 try it, Joe." 
 
 Joe was not quite ignorant of Methodism. 
 Martha Thrale had done her best to bring him 
 up in her own persuasion, but the very candor 
 and familiarity of its experience had made Joe 
 shrink from it. Youth, contrary to general 
 impression, is apt to be secretive about its 
 deepest emotions ; if it is any thing else, the 
 probabilities are that the whole man or woman 
 is shallow. They who prattle about their love 
 affairs to every listener have no depths of ten 
 derness; and much more truly may it be said 
 that they who are constantly talking of their 
 spiritual experiences know nothing of those 
 sweet, secret tokens which are solemn, sacred 
 understandings between God and his children. 
 
 But this reticence does not exclude those 
 guarded and intimate communions, those affec 
 tionate counsels, which friend and brother have 
 with one another. No confidences that Joe 
 had ever exchanged with Tom Halifax and 
 others of his gay companions were so enthral.
 
 254 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 ling as those after-dinner chats with Samuel 
 Yorke when the day was over and the shadows 
 of the evening stretched out. Then the tide 
 of daily life had quite ebbed, and in the still 
 ness and dimness the spiritual perceptions were 
 more sensitive ; conscience spoke and could be 
 heard ; the soul hearkened after voices from its 
 long-lost home ; the men drew nearer to each 
 other and nearer to God. 
 
 It was in such hours Joe began to speak of 
 the years which he had wasted, and of the mis 
 takes he had made, very shyly and almost 
 defensively at first, but finally with the full 
 appreciation of all that such loss of life in 
 cluded ; for whoever has felt any thing deeply 
 must be haunted by the phantoms of wasted 
 hours that can never return. 
 
 On Sunday night a minister famed for his 
 eloquence was to preach, and Samuel Yorke 
 and Joe were both somewhat excited at the 
 prospect. The sermon was all they expected, 
 a magnificent exposition of the attributes of 
 the Prince of the House of David. Joe was 
 particularly affected by the mighty waves of 
 psalmody, the solemn yet hearty enthusiasm 
 with which the worshiping thousands sang,
 
 JOE HAS A SURPRISE. 255 
 
 " Bring forth the royal diadem, 
 And crown Him Lord of all," 
 
 and still more by the almost awful grandeur of 
 that most majestic of hymns : 
 
 " Lo ! He comes with clouds descending, 
 
 Once for favored sinners slain ; 
 Thousand, thousand saints attending, 
 Swell the triumph of His train : 
 
 Hallelujah ! 
 God appears on earth to reign. " 
 
 And it seemed to Joe, when the standing mul 
 titude blended their voices with the rolling 
 organ in those lines of stern pathos, 
 
 " Every eye shall now behold Him, 
 
 Robed in dreadful majesty ; 
 Those who set at naught and sold Him, 
 Pierced and nailed Him to the tree, 
 
 Deeply wailing, 
 Shall the true Messiah see." 
 
 that his very soul grew larger, touched infinite 
 heights and depths, and felt, at least for a few 
 moments, the breath of its own divinity. 
 
 He did not speak during their ride home; 
 he did not feel able ; but it was not necessary 
 for these two men to speak; they understood 
 silence as well. Yet, after they had sat half 
 an hour in the red shadows of the firelight, and
 
 256 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 had fully gathered their thoughts and feelings 
 together, Joe said : 
 
 " It was a grand sermon ! It was a grand 
 service! It was good to be there." 
 
 Samuel nodded, looking into Joe s face with 
 shining eyes. 
 
 "No worldly pleasures can so stir the soul. I 
 have had music, dancing, travel, good company, 
 fair women, but none of these things ever made 
 me feel immortal." 
 
 " It tak s angels to move the great depths of 
 our souls, Joe. Wine, music, dancing, even 
 good women, only move us a bit below the 
 surface. It tak s the everlasting word of God 
 to bring to us any living sense o immortality." 
 
 " I have never known Jesus Christ until this 
 night. The Conqueror of all His enemies, the 
 Avenger of His saints, the Lord of heaven and 
 earth. It was a wonderful picture ! " 
 
 " It was ; and yet Joe, will ta believe it? In 
 t* varry rapture of t coronation hymn, I was 
 busy thinking o a little saying o Saint Peter s, 
 which to my mind describes Jesus of Naza 
 reth in a way poor, sinful, suffering men and 
 women want him most and love him best. A 
 man approved of God, who went about doing
 
 JOE HAS A SURPRISE. 257 
 
 good, healing all that were oppressed Thou 
 sees, Joe, a great conqueror would be led wet- 
 shod ; blood and fire, and weeping and wailing 
 wherever he went. Oh, my lad, that isn t how 
 I like to think of Him. I know that when His 
 weary feet went to Judea he left blessing and 
 love behind him. I can fancy a traveler pass 
 ing through a village at that time, and saying, 
 "I found no blind men, and no cripples, and 
 no sick people; for Jesus of Nazareth had just 
 been there." 
 
 Joe looked at his friend sympathetically, but 
 he had nothing to answer. When the spiritual 
 nature is above the mortal one it is not easy 
 to say many words. Can the language of flesh 
 and blood interpret the emotions of the spirit? 
 No ; when the spirit is master, we must be 
 still, for we have not yet learnt the spiritual 
 tongue. But Joe communed with his own 
 heart, and found the silence sweetly satisfying. 
 For God knows the worshipers unknown to 
 the world, or even to the prophets. 
 
 It will be easily seen, then, that the young 
 man was very favorably circumstanced for 
 spiritual growth ; and yet there were times 
 when he stood still, when he actually went
 
 <5 8 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 backward, for conversion is a slow and tardy 
 miracle, the fruit of sorrow and care and many 
 bitter unquietudes. 
 
 Thus at Bradley and Manchester the time 
 went on, every day bringing its own lesson 
 and its own comfort. Christmas was ap 
 proaching, and Joe began to have strong long 
 ings to see again his wife and child. Surely, 
 Yorke would not consider a holiday visit to 
 them a violation of his agreement. He spoke 
 of Christmas often, in the hope that the old 
 man would express some opinion, but Yorke 
 had really no new one to express. He had 
 made a bargain with Joe. Its terms were clear 
 in his own mind ; he expected them to be just 
 as clear in Joe s. The thing had been settled 
 beyond future discussion ; and Joe felt this. 
 He was sure if Yorke meant him to go home 
 he would speak of it, and if he did not mean 
 it no argument he could use would affect him. 
 
 True, he was his own master, and his servi 
 tude was of his own will ; he could terminate it 
 to-morrow. But he was not prepared to give 
 up his project, to waste his six months labor, 
 to cast himself adrift on an aimless life. And 
 if for a week s gratification he did this he knew
 
 JOE HAS A SURPRISE. 259 
 
 what self-reproach would follow. And what 
 would Edith say, and his father, and Aunt 
 Martha ? In such a case even the whole com 
 munity must be considered, and Joe felt that 
 the universal verdict would be that of Jacob 
 on Reuben/ Unstable as water, thou shalt not 
 excel." There was therefore only one way in 
 which he could visit Bradley, and that was 
 with Yorke s permission, and Yorke never said 
 a word which implied even a consideration of 
 the subject. 
 
 One night he asked with as little concern as 
 he could manage to show, " For how long 
 will you close, at the holidays, godfather?" 
 
 "I sail shut up t warehouse and t factory 
 on Thursday at t noon hour, and I sail open 
 again Monday morning. Them at likes to 
 stop away at t New Year can do so ; but I ll 
 think better o them that begins a fresh year 
 wi honest work instead o foolishness and 
 senseless feasting." 
 
 Now Samuel had a daughter married, and 
 living in London, and Joe made his last insinu 
 ation when he asked, "Are you going up to 
 London to see Mrs. Powers and your grand 
 children ?"
 
 26o MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 "Nay, not I. I am none fond o London, 
 and I sud be a good part of two days in a rail- 
 way carriage. I go and see Mary and t chil 
 dren every July; they are in t country then, 
 and that s summat like a holiday." 
 
 But not even this leading question procured 
 any allusion to Joe s relations, and he was much 
 annoyed by Yorke s reticence on the subject. 
 But he was wise enough to accept the fact as 
 a positive proof that Yorke did not intend 
 Joe s family to be any factor of the agreement 
 between them. 
 
 And Yorke understood Joe s allusions very 
 well. " I know what he s after," he thought, 
 with some real regret, " but if he isn t up to 
 this bit of self-denial, he may as well go home 
 entirely. I ll hev nothing less than I bargained 
 for. It would be a foolish thing to let him go 
 home for a week, and be lord of t manor, and 
 have every body running after him, and wait 
 ing on him, hand and foot, and humoring all 
 his whims, as if he were doing something more 
 than mortal man iver did before. I ll hev 
 no woman melling with my work aunt or wife 
 and I sail hold him to his bargain, ivery let-
 
 JOE HAS A SURPRISE. 261 
 
 ter of it, for I m varry sure it is t right thing 
 and t kind thing to do." 
 
 However, there is in every human intention 
 some unforeseen element which has not been 
 remembered or reckoned for ; and Yorke never 
 thought of Edith coming to Manchester to see 
 Joe. Nobody thought of it. The idea entered 
 into her own head one morning, a few days 
 before Christmas, as she was going over the de 
 tails of the feast with her housekeeper. She 
 had much to do for her tenants, and when it 
 was all arranged she remembered Joe with a 
 wave of love and pity that brought the tears 
 to her eyes. 
 
 " He isn t coming home," she whispered. 
 " He says Yorke will not even speak of it. 
 Very well. Yorke cannot prevent mygoingto 
 see Joe, and I ll go to-morrow." 
 
 So next day she stepped from a carriage in 
 Spinning-Jenny street, Manchester, a beautiful, 
 queen-like woman in purple velvet and ermine 
 furs ; and Samuel Yorke, catching a passing 
 glimpse of this feminine apparel, thought it 
 must be his daughter, and hastened to the door 
 to meet her. 
 
 " I am Mrs. Joe Braithwaite," she said, with
 
 262 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 a smile, and Samuel was quite conquered by its 
 winsome sweetness. 
 
 " Thou art welcome," he answered. " Will 
 ta come in?" 
 
 But she wanted to see Joe at once, just as 
 he was. And Yorke was not able to resist her 
 pretty impetuosity. 
 
 "Well, then, ta shall see him," and he got 
 into the carriage and drove with her to the 
 mill, which was more than two miles away from 
 the warehouse. 
 
 Joe was in the dyeing shed, standing among 
 piles and stacks of logs of the oddest looking 
 woods : some were yellow and splintering, 
 some red and scraggy, some purple and solid. 
 Around him were bundles of bark, barrels of 
 salts, and carboys of acids and oils. He was 
 talking earnestly to the master dyer, and 
 Edith saw him before he had any idea of her 
 presence. Fashion had never dressed him to 
 such perfection as labor. Handsome he had 
 always been, but never so handsome in his 
 wife s eyes as at that moment, though he wore 
 a flannel shirt and a flannel apron, though 
 his naked arms were stained with indigo, and
 
 JOE HAS A SURPRISE. 263 
 
 his brown, curly hair was partially covered 
 with a little scarbt cap. 
 
 11 Joe ! Joe ! " she cried, softly, as she began 
 to pick her way toward him. 
 
 And oh ! how proud and glad Joe was ! It 
 was a moment cheaply bought with six months 
 of toil and self-banishment. In some degree 
 also Samuel Yorke was quite conquered. He 
 saw their joy, and he could not help sympathis 
 ing with it. 
 
 " I ll hev to giv thee a holiday, Joe," he said. 
 " So don thy street clothes and be off wi thee. 
 I know thou won t be fit to dye cloth to-day." 
 
 " Mr. Yorke, couldn t Joe go back to Bradley 
 with me for a week ? " 
 
 " No, my lass, he couldn t." 
 
 "Just for three days, then? I think you 
 might let him have three days. Every one 
 goes home at Christmas, you know." 
 
 " No, I didn t know aught of t sort. Mrs. 
 Braithwaite, this won t do at all. I hev let 
 Joe off to-day. If ta takes him to Bradley now, 
 thou can keep him there. I see plainly that 
 ivery man hes to hev his Eve. If ta takes my 
 advice, thou won t tempt a good man to leave 
 the good work he hes put his hand to."
 
 264 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 "You mustn t call me Eve, Mr. Yorke ; I do 
 not intend to tempt Joe to leave his work." 
 
 " That s right. I don t want any woman in 
 terfering with my work, and Joe is my work, 
 for t next eighteen months." 
 
 " I would not interfere for the world, sir. I 
 will do exactly as you say." 
 
 "Now thou talks sense. I begin to believe 
 all t* fine things Joe says of thee, and Joe can 
 say a lot when he begins, he can that."
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 AMOS MAKES EDITH A PROPOSAL. 
 
 " He hath hands enough for himself and others." 
 " Power to its last particle is duty." 
 " We make our fortunes, and we call them fate." 
 " Every thing that happens is but a link in a chain." 
 
 \ FTER Edith s visit to Manchester, life at 
 _/~\_ Bradley went on in a very even and satis 
 factory way. Her affairs were not again dis 
 cussed, even by the most intimate of friends, 
 and she was every where treated with that 
 marked politeness which is the expression of 
 respect untinged by a familiarity too often apt 
 to verge upon contempt. For Amos had made 
 himself very popular in Bradley ; he had given 
 nobly to its charities, and he had a way, not 
 only of interfering in local troubles, but also of 
 making them disappear. It was money in one 
 direction, it was work in another ; but it was 
 always help in just the place and way that 
 help was needed.
 
 266 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 The rector found his hands wonderfully 
 strengthened by this straightforward, pushing, 
 generous man. And as he stood at Edith s 
 side, very much in the attitude of a watch-dog 
 noting, with pleased or lowering face, any at 
 tention or want of attention to his daughter, 
 no one was inclined to incur his ill-will. 
 
 For the ill-will of Amos was by no means a 
 bark without a bite. Mrs. Lumley would have 
 said, had she dared, that she and the Squire 
 had been almost worried to death by him. 
 And, indeed, it was well known that the proud 
 woman had been compelled to entreat Edith s 
 espousal of her cause, in order to prevent the 
 auctioneer s flag which Amos had promised 
 them. But having brought her to this point, 
 Amos was glad to put the utmost extent of 
 mercy in the hands of Edith. 
 
 " Tell her," he said, " she can send t Squire 
 to me. If thou says be easy wi them, I ll 
 warrant I won t be hard." 
 
 " Mrs. Lumley wants to see you, herself, 
 father." 
 
 " Nay, nay, I ll do no business wi women. 
 I m too soft. If she didn t mak a fool of 
 me, she would call me a brute. But ta can
 
 AMOS MAKES EDITH A PROPOSAL. 267 
 
 tell her thou hes saved her home ; and for 
 t rest, let Squire Lumley speak for himsen. 
 If it hurts his pride a bit, it will do him 
 good. He hes never done aught but spend 
 money all his life, and nobody, as I can hear 
 of, hes hed t gumption to give t young man 
 a bit of good advice. I sail not let my op 
 portunity pass; he ll be sure to get some truth 
 from me, and happen it will do him good." 
 
 The tie between Edith and her father-in- 
 law had become a very strong and tender one. 
 He admired her thoroughly ; her business tact 
 elicited his sincere admiration; her little econo 
 mies were his delight ; her beauty, her stately 
 carriage, her rich clothing, her authoritative 
 ways were subjects on which he never wearied 
 of conversation. 
 
 Martha Thrale listened to him with many 
 silences and reserves. She liked Edith better 
 than she had ever hoped or intended to like 
 her, but women see women in a way men have 
 not the faculty of seeing them. The pretty 
 wiles and flatteries that were so charming to 
 Amos, and in which he so thoroughly believed, 
 affected Martha with a trifle of wonder and 
 contempt. She saw through them, and won-
 
 268 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 dered why Edith should take a bye-way to her 
 object when there was a high-way. 
 
 " She is a varry fair specimen of a woman," 
 she would say, a little impatiently, " but she 
 isn t an angel. She hes her faults, like all V 
 rest of women." 
 
 " Then I hevn t seen them, Martha." 
 
 " No, because she mak s so much o thee. 
 One would think thet she niver hed a father cf 
 her awn." 
 
 " She hed a varry mean one, poor lass ; I sud 
 really hope thet she does find me a different 
 mak o a man to old Bradley." 
 
 " Dear me, Amos ! Thou beats every thing. 
 Setting thysen up above a daughter s awn fa 
 ther! It isn t right, ta knows." 
 
 " Isn t it? I wouldn t set mysen varry high 
 by topping Luke Bradley. I m not an angel 
 either, Martha, but I do hope as I am a better 
 sort of a man than Luke Bradley was." 
 
 " Well, Amos, Luke Bradley is dead and 
 judged now, and thou hesn t any right to say 
 aught." 
 
 " Thet s so, and I hev got a grand upper 
 hand o him. I hope he knows it, Martha. I 
 Sud think he does. There wouldn t be much
 
 AMOS MAKES EDITH A PROPOSAL. 269 
 
 use in having t upper hand o Luke, if he didn t 
 know it." 
 
 " I hope he knows how good thou hes been 
 to his daughter." 
 
 " Ay, I hev been good to Edith. But Edith 
 is a woman as is worth a man going out of his 
 way for." 
 
 " She s varry well. I hev known some better, 
 I think." 
 
 When conversation got to this point, Amos 
 had always the good sense to turn it upon the 
 subject about which their opinions were unani 
 mous little Joe. 
 
 " Did ta iver see such a fine lad ? " 
 
 " Niver, Amos, unless it were his father." 
 Then the child s beauty, his spirit, his loving 
 disposition, his bright intelligence, were afresh 
 discussed, and Amos smoked, and talked, and 
 listened, until he was in a state of supreme 
 satisfaction with himself for owning such an 
 admirable son and such an extraordinary 
 grandson. 
 
 During the following Easter holidays, Amos 
 was most of his time at Bradley. He had Per 
 kins there, and he went over the accounts of 
 the estate with him, and was much gratified at
 
 270 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 the handsome balance. He never took into 
 consideration the retired way in which Edith 
 had been living during the absence of her hus 
 band, the omission of the summer travel, and 
 the winter s entertainments; he put the whole 
 sum against his own management. And this 
 not out of any intentional desire to appropri 
 ate credit not justly his own, but simply because 
 his tremendous self-esteem led him to make all 
 things feed its never-ceasing hunger. 
 
 The Saturday previous to Easter Sunday was 
 a perfectly charming spring day; and in the 
 afternoon Amos asked Edith to take a walk 
 with him. 
 
 " Why not drive, father ? Then we can take 
 little Joe with us." 
 
 " Nay, I don t want little Joe this afternoon, 
 and I am going a way that would be rather 
 hard on thy fine carriage and horses." 
 
 " Won t it be hard on me, then?" 
 
 " Not a bit. Put on a pair of thick shoes, 
 and I ll give thee my arm." 
 
 Edith did not make any further opposition. 
 She had come to understand that her father- 
 in-law s unusual movements always had a 
 purpose in them; and she was a little curi-
 
 AMOS MAKES EDITH A PROPOSAL. 271 
 
 ous as to what new thing was now in his 
 mind. 
 
 They went leisurely through the park, ad 
 miring its excellent condition, and happily sen 
 sitive to the freshness and sweetness of the 
 young leaves and the early flowers, though 
 neither spoke very much of such unpractical 
 things. After passing the gates, Amos turned 
 to the left, and followed a rapid, brawling 
 stream some distance up the hill. There was 
 but a bridle path, and the road was rough, but 
 it was one of great beauty. 
 
 Edith could not resist the delight of gather 
 ing the lovely saffron primroses, and the pale 
 blue-bells, and the tenderly green young ferns. 
 The trees whispered above them, and the water 
 came down in a clear, sparkling volume. There 
 was mystery, and freshness, and beauty all 
 around them ; and as the path narrowed, and 
 they were compelled to walk singly, they ceased 
 talking, feeling the companionship of nature to 
 be sufficient. 
 
 In a few minutes they came to the head of a 
 glen, and here the water took a leap of fifty 
 feet, making, in its irresistible momentum, what 
 is called in local speech "a force." Amos stood
 
 272 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 looking at it with a face full of pleased specula- 
 tion, while Edith, who had never been there 
 since her childhood, expressed her hearty de 
 light. 
 
 " It is the loveliest spot ! " she cried ; " we 
 must bring little Joe here, and have a picnic. 
 Oh, how exquisitely sweet and fresh and charm 
 ing it all is ! It seems, up here, as if the world 
 had just been made, father." 
 
 " Ay, it is a bonny place ; but the beauty of it 
 isn t what I m thinking of, Edith. There is a 
 grand water-power here. I ve been up before 
 looked at it summer and winter. I say, there 
 is a grand water-power here." 
 
 " Well, what of that, father?" 
 
 " It is a fair, even-down sin and shame to 
 hev so much water doing nothing." 
 
 Edith smiled. " I believe, father, that you 
 think forces and becks were only made to run 
 mills." 
 
 " Whativer could they do better ? So much 
 water so much water going to waste ! It 
 mak s me varry unhappy, Edith." 
 
 " This place was for beauty, father a little 
 covert for the lady-ferns and blue-bells. I didn t 
 know before that I owned such a pretty spot."
 
 AMOS MAKES EDITH A PROPOSAL. 273 
 
 " There, now ! What good does its beauty 
 do ? Who iver sees t lady-ferns and blue-bells? 
 Who do they feed and clothe? Looking pretty 
 is all varry well, but neither nature nor women 
 folk hev any right to stop there, if they can do 
 aught else." 
 
 " There must be some places left for recrea 
 tion, some places left to delight the eyes, and 
 rest the mind and body." 
 
 " I hevn t any objections, I m sure. There 
 are lots o bonny places, fit for nothing else, 
 with no water-power worth speaking of. This 
 place hes more privileges." 
 
 * I think it has." 
 
 "Edith?" 
 
 " Yes, father ? " 
 
 " I ll build Joe a cotton mill right here, if 
 thou art willing. I ll buy t land of thee at a 
 fair price." 
 
 " I do not want a cotton mill so near the 
 park, father. It will spoil the pretty rural vil 
 lage, too." 
 
 "What is ta talking about? I sail put up 
 t handsomest mill that can be made o stone 
 and mortar. I ll mak t chimney so that folks 
 will come miles and miles to hev a look at it,*
 
 274 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 and I sud like to see t park or t village a mill 
 of that kind would spoil." 
 
 " Bradley is such a pretty, rural, idyllic little 
 village." 
 
 " I don t know what ta means with thy fine 
 words, but I ll tell thee what I think o Brad 
 ley. It wants somebody \vi sense and gump 
 tion to do summat for it. Such a lot of 
 tumble-down, thatched cottages and sleepy 
 dunderheads of hedgers and ditchers I niver 
 saw before." 
 
 " They are happy and contented." 
 
 " Because they know no better." 
 
 " Bevin is not very far off. If they want mill 
 work they can go to Bevin." 
 
 " They are like childer ; they stay at home, 
 even though home is but a middling place. 
 Edith, thou hes no right to hev so much water 
 going to waste. It ought to find good homes 
 and plenty o bread for a thousand mouths, 
 and mak money without end for thee and 
 Joe." 
 
 " Do you really think that ? " 
 
 " To be sure, I do. See, now ! I ll build a 
 mill. I ll hev it ready for t looms by t 1 time 
 Joe is ready for it. I hev vowed that he sail
 
 AMOS MAKES EDITH A PROPOSAL. 275 
 
 niver hev part nor lot in Bevin Mill, but I niver 
 said thet I wouldn t build him a mill at Brad 
 ley." 
 
 " My father always dreaded having a mill 
 near the park. It was for that reason he 
 bought the land around Kattel Force." 
 
 " Thy father made his money in mills." 
 
 " Yes but you know the Bradleys were 
 country gentlemen. They had become poor, 
 but they had always been at Bradley. My 
 father, like many other old Yorkshire squires, 
 began manufacturing in order to rebuild the 
 fortunes of the family." 
 
 "Well, whativer he did thou can do. I sud 
 think that he bought this varry bit o land, if 
 he hed an ounce o sense, with t sole idea that 
 some o his descendants would be wise enough 
 to build a mill here. Naturally, he d want them 
 to hev t benefit o such a grand factory site." 
 
 " Oh, no," she answered, a little fretfully ; 
 " just imagine that cascade of silver water black 
 and foul with the refuse of dyeing vats. And 
 the stream all the way down, with its fringe of 
 primroses and blue-bells, how soon it would be 
 come dirty ! The flowers would perish, and the 
 clean air be full of smoke."
 
 2 7 6 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 " Silver water, as ta calls it, will mak a sight 
 o gold for thee. And it would be better to 
 see a thousand men, women, and children on 
 its banks than primroses and blue-bells ; for I 
 do hope ta doesn t even human beings wi flow 
 ers and ferns and such like." 
 
 "It is such a new idea to me, father." 
 
 " I m a bit astonished at that. Thou art 
 such a clever woman, I was sure thou would 
 hev thought of Kattel Force and Joe together, 
 before this." 
 
 " No, I had not. Of course I knew that Joe 
 must have a mill somewhere near Bradley, and 
 I was going to speak to you about it. I 
 thought there was plenty of time." 
 
 "There is no time to lose if we build our awn 
 mill not a day. Now then, tak what I hev 
 proposed into thy head, and turn it over a bit. 
 I think ta will see I am right." 
 
 " It will need thinking about in many ways." 
 
 " Perhaps ta is afraid of annoying Lady 
 Charlton, for ta sees if we build here thy mill- 
 chimney will be in sight from all her front win 
 dows, and when t wind blows from t east, and 
 it mostly does blow from t east she ll get all 
 t smoke it can send her."
 
 AMOS MAKES EDITH A PROPOSAL. 277 
 
 " I should hardly take Lady Charlton into 
 consideration, with any of my plans." 
 
 " No, I sud say not. She niver hed any con 
 sideration for thee. This is t varry place for 
 Joe. A good road can be easily made here, 
 and his gig will bring him to thee any time in 
 twenty minutes. And if Kattel suits Joe and 
 thee, thet s t main thing, I sud say." 
 
 " Well, father, I will think of what you have 
 said." 
 
 " Do, Edith, my lass. And don t thee waste 
 time. We ll hev to be mak ing ready for Joe s 
 home-coming. If ta will help me, we ll do our 
 best to mak no mistakes with him this time." 
 
 " You are the dearest, noblest, most gener 
 ous father in the whole world ! It would be a 
 shame to cross you very far." 
 
 "Ay, I try to be. And I hev a famous good 
 daughter. A father would do a deal for a lass 
 like thee." 
 
 " I will speak to Perkins, if you don t mind. 
 He may know of some more suitable 
 place." 
 
 "Ay, he may and he may not." 
 
 " If we can buy a suitable site not on our own 
 land, all the better."
 
 278 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 " Mebbe. But speak to Perkins if ta likes. 
 He s not a bad one to ask ; for if there s a bit 
 o* land, far or near, in ta market, he generally 
 knows all about it."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 AMOS BRAITHWAITE AND SON. 
 
 * Man is his own star, and the soul that can 
 Render an honest and a perfect man 
 Commands all light, all influence, all fate. 
 Nothing to him falls early, or too late. 
 Our acts our angels are, for good or ill, 
 Our fatal shadows, that walk by us still." 
 
 AMOS had acceded to his daughter s wish to 
 consult Perkins with apparent satisfac 
 tion ; and with almost unnecessary haste he 
 decided privately to follow Edith s intention. 
 He went early on Monday morning to see the 
 lawyer, so early that he had to seek him at his 
 residence. The two men knew each other too 
 well to attempt deception, and Amos, without 
 any preparatory explanation, said, " I m before 
 business hours, Perkins, but I hev a good rea 
 son for bothering thee. I want to build Joe a 
 mill on Kattel. Mrs. Braithwaite is afraid o* 
 spoiling her view and her rural village and
 
 28o MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 thinks thou can mebbe find her a better site, 
 Now, I know thou can t, and if ta could, I 
 don t want any other site found. Think of it. 
 Can ta find another place half so suitable?" 
 
 There was no ofter of reward made, nothing 
 approaching the idea of one good turn deserves 
 another insinuated, and yet Perkins, looking 
 steadily at Amos, fully understood that an ad 
 vantageous offer had been made him. He 
 stroked his chin a few moments, and seemed 
 lost in a deep reflection on the water-power of 
 the locality, but his answer was as definite as 
 Amos could desire. 
 
 " I really do not know of any site but Kattel 
 that could be procured for the purpose of build 
 ing a mill. There is a bit of land on Thorny 
 Beck, but it belongs to Lady Charlton, and she 
 refused to sell it to John Nelson because he 
 wanted to build a mill on it." 
 
 " I want thee to tell Mrs. Braithwaite that. 
 Don t forget to tell her it, whativer ta does. I 
 think it will do a deal towards making her settle 
 on Kattel." 
 
 " I don t see how it can." 
 
 " Because ta niver studied up women ; they 
 aren t in thy books. Tell Mrs. Braithwaite
 
 AMOS BRAITHWAITE AND SON. 281 
 
 about Thorny Beck, and I sudn t wonder if she 
 settles at once, just as I want her to." 
 
 Having opened the subject, Amos did not 
 allow it to drop. Whatever Edith thought, 
 Amos had made up his mind that there ought 
 to be a mill on Kattel Force. As for the dead 
 Bradley buying the land purposely to prevent 
 it, Amos was not deterred by that considera 
 tion. " He ought to hev hed more sense "; 
 and so deep and so deceitful above all things 
 is the heart that he was undoubtedly more 
 pleased with the notion because it contradicted 
 a pet prejudice of his old enemy. A fine mill 
 on that fine eminence would be a pleasant sight 
 to him. Braithwaite Mill on Kattel Force. 
 " My word," he thought, " if Luke Bradley can 
 know it and see it ! " 
 
 As for Edith she made as brave a struggle to 
 preserve her little glen as could be expected. 
 She spoke to Perkins and directed him, if pos 
 sible, to find other land, even though the price 
 was a little extravagant. She told him frankly 
 that she did not want to destroy the lovely 
 stream, and transform the quiet hamlet into a 
 dirty, turbulent mill village. 
 
 But Perkins had already settled the matter
 
 282 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 in his own mind. He saw now why Amos had 
 helped the Wesleyans so liberally to turn the 
 old mill into a chapel, and he could not help 
 admiring the forethought of his old client. He 
 was almost quite sure that the plans Amos had 
 made for Joe and Edith would be, in the end, 
 very wise ones, and that he would best serve 
 her interests by encouraging them. In fact, he 
 could find no single reason for discovering 
 another location to please Edith, and he could 
 find at least a dozen good ones for pleasing 
 Amos. 
 
 So when he visited Bradley on the subject, 
 he was very regretful, but also very positive. 
 He had been able to find nothing at all suitable 
 but a tract on Thorny Beck, and it was three 
 miles away." 
 
 " Is there a good road to it ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, a very good road." 
 
 " That might do. Who owns it?" 
 
 " Lady Charlton." 
 
 " Will she sell ?" 
 
 " She was anxious to sell until she heard it 
 was to build a mill on. Then she flatly re 
 fused. But I might hev known she would, for 
 she refused John Nelson, and made some varry
 
 AMOS BRAITHWAITE AND SON. 283 
 
 contemptuous remarks about mill gentry, at t 
 same time, which is neither here nor there. I 
 thought as you and her were friends she d 
 mebbe not mind your mill. But she wouldn t 
 hear of it." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! She wouldn t hear of it ? " 
 
 " She says it is so unpleasant to see mills. 
 They are so suggestive of work and poverty, 
 and vulgarity, and a deal of other disagreeable 
 things." 
 
 " But, Mr. Perkins, if we build on Kattel 
 Fell, it seems to me that her ladyship will be 
 obliged to endure the sight of a mill." 
 
 " I m afraid so, Mrs. Braithwaite. But you 
 see Mr. Joe is to be considered first." 
 
 " I should think so." 
 
 " And it is your awn land." 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 "And when you can t do what you want " 
 
 41 Then I must do as I can." 
 
 "Just so, Mrs. Braithwaite." 
 
 And the end of the matter was that Amos 
 got his own way. Before the spring was quite 
 over, men began to dig up the blue-bells and 
 primroses to a level, and grade a wide road, and 
 then to lay a foundation of mighty strength,
 
 284 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 upon which, month after month, rose gradually 
 a tall, gigantic pile of masonry, something like 
 a model prison, a great, vast, empty shell of 
 enormous strength, into which Joe was to bring 
 the steam and metal witchcraft of Lancashire. 
 
 Nearly ten years had now passed since that 
 morning when Joe took his father s check for 
 5000 and left him. If any one had then told 
 the handsome, rather conceited youth the point 
 to which he would arrive in ten years, he would 
 have regarded his life as a failure, and felt 
 anger at the supposition. But our views of life 
 up to a certain age constantly change ; the sue- 
 cess of one decade is not the aim of another, 
 and Joe, sitting with his godfather, on the last 
 night of his apprenticeship, was satisfied with 
 the prospect before him. 
 
 " Thou art ready for work, now, Joe. Thou 
 art a good man, and a good cotton spinner, 
 and I m proud of thee in both ways. What 
 wilt ta do with thysen ? Has ta thought of 
 it?" 
 
 " I have been thinking a great deal of it." 
 
 "Will ta ask Mrs. Joe to build thee a mill? 
 Thou could tak her as thy partner, J. & E. 
 Bradley, Cotton Spinners."
 
 AMOS BRA1THWAITE AND SON. 285 
 
 " No, no, my wife is my wife, and I ll not 
 mix her with my business. I am going to ask 
 my father to lend me sufficient money to begin 
 business in a rented mill. If he will not do it, 
 I shall ask you, godfather." 
 
 " Thou ask thy father. He niver said he 
 would not lend thee money, and if he did the 
 sooner he breaks a wicked oath the more of a 
 man he will be. I hev told him that, in so- 
 many plain words before this. Give thy father 
 a chance to be a good father, by being a good 
 son. I m none afraid but what Amos Braith- 
 waite will do about right for thee." 
 
 The next day Joe went home, and Edith, 
 radiant and beautiful, was waiting for him. 
 When he stepped from the train to the plat 
 form, it was with the free, independent air of a 
 man who knows the cunning in his ten fingers 
 is good for his fortune, and Edith recognized 
 his manhood and his authority. He spoke to 
 the coachman differently and the man answered 
 him differently. In less than an hour the wife 
 and the servants understood that he had come 
 home as master. 
 
 The first persons he saw on entering the 
 Bradley parlor were Martha Thrale and his
 
 286 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 father. Martha was putting the last festival 
 touches to the tea-table. Amos was serenely 
 smoking at the window; Joe went straight to 
 him. He put out his hand, and said frankly, 
 " Father, I was very wrong not to take your 
 advice ten years ago. I am very sorry for my 
 folly. I hope you will forgive me." 
 
 "Say no more, Joe. I hev forgiven thee 
 long since. Sam lies written reg lar to me. I 
 know all about thee, my lad." 
 
 " I m so happy to see you here." 
 
 " I lied to come here. When ta left thy wife 
 I were forced to look after her for thee. Dost 
 ta think I was going to let Tom, Dick, and 
 Harry hev leave and license to say this or that 
 about her ? Not I ! I don t know whativer 
 she would hev done without me." And Amos 
 laughed heartily as he said, "Ay, ta may well 
 kiss that big lad o thine, Martha ; I hev heard 
 tell that he is as hot a Methodist as thysen 
 now." 
 
 It is not often that anticipated joys realize 
 their promise, but this reunion did. It was 
 perhaps the happiest evening in all the -peri- 
 ence of Amos. He had so much to tell, and 
 so much to listen to, and Edith s praises of his
 
 AMOS BRAITHWAITE AND SON. 287 
 
 kindness and wisdom were exceedingly pleasant 
 things to listen to. 
 
 In the morning he said to Joe, " I want thee 
 to tak a walk with me, Joe. I hev summat to 
 show thee." And as they neared Kattel he 
 asked, " Is ta going to stick to cotton spinning, 
 my lad ? " 
 
 " Yes, I am, father." 
 
 " Wilt ta tak me as thy partner ? " 
 
 " Father, do you really mean it ? " 
 
 " Do I iver talk on both sides o my mouth? 
 I hed a bit o brass lying idle, so I bought some 
 land on Kattel, and I hev built a mill on it, for 
 I tell thee, Joe, it was a sin to see all that water 
 going to waste. Now, if ta likes, thee and me 
 will fill that mill with spinning-Jennys. And, 
 my lad, we ll drive all Wharfdale before us. 
 Thou can manage t cotton mill, and I ll stick 
 to t wool and Bevin." 
 
 " I never knew I had such a good father. 
 Why, you have been thinking of me and plan 
 ning for me all the time I have been away." 
 
 " To be sure I was. Does ta think I was 
 going to let Sam Yorke take my place ? Is it a 
 bargain? Sail it be Amos Braithwaite and Son, 
 Cotton Spinners?"
 
 288 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 " I shall be the proudest man in Yorkshire 
 when that day comes." 
 
 "Then thou can begin to be proud this 
 varry hour. See there! That is our mill, 
 Joe. It wants naught but t looms and t 
 hands ; thou can get them as soon as iver ta 
 likes." 
 
 A very happy summer followed this arrange 
 ment. Amos and Joe were so busy that the 
 long days were far too short, and Amos often 
 wished " time were nobbut in t market, so as 
 he could buy a few hours ivery day at any 
 quotation." What ridings over to Bevin and 
 Bradley there were! What consultations, what 
 extemporized meals in both houses. Martha 
 and Edith grew really fond of each other, while 
 they discussed the uncertainty of dinners and 
 teas, and the necessity of strengthening food 
 for such busy men. 
 
 But time makes all events a little stale, and 
 ven the opening of the big mill was forgotten 
 in a newer event of more personal importance, 
 the advent of Joe s second son. When Martha 
 Thrale lifted the little crying mite of humanity 
 in her arms, she forgave Edith every thing. 
 And there was no hesitation about the name
 
 AMOS BRAITHWAITE AND SON. 289 
 
 of this boy. He was called Amos as soon as 
 he came into the world. 
 
 Amos was wonderfully delighted. He gave 
 all his hands a holiday and a big feast, and he 
 had again a desire to go into Bradford and buy 
 a piece of jewelry or silverware ; this time he 
 did it. And if the newly arrived Amos Braith- 
 waite, Junior, could have used a full silver din 
 ner service he would have received it from the 
 proud and happy grandfather. 
 
 Just after making this delightful outlay, 
 he met Joshua Perkins, coming up Darley 
 street. " Hes ta heard ? " he asked, in a lofty, 
 exultant tone. " I told thee my Joe was no fool. 
 T mill is doing beyond ivery thing. T little 
 rural village is getting to be a busy town, and 
 yesterday, Perkins, there was another Amos 
 Braithwaite arrived in this world." 
 
 " It is rather hard for a man to be a fool that 
 hes got a rich father, a rich wife, and a rich 
 godfather." 
 
 " Stop thy talk, Perkins. There s many a 
 lad hes hed rich upholders richer than Joe hes, 
 but there s varry few lads who, if they hed lost 
 four years and .5,000 in a lawyer s office, would 
 hev hed spirit enough to kick t law and ivery
 
 290 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 thing about t law to the back-of-beyond, 1 
 and then go to work like a man." 
 
 " Mr. Joe married? " 
 
 " I m coming to that. There s a fewer still, 
 who, when they make a mistake in their wed 
 ding venture, hev t sense to find out what is 
 wrong, and then set themselves to put it right. 
 Why, if my Joe married for love now, he d hev 
 nobody but Edith Bradley, even if she worked 
 in a mill and hadn t a sixpenny bit." 
 
 " It s a topsy-turvy world, Braithwaite. 
 We ll see how things are ten years after date. 
 There ll be changes, changes no doubt, Mr. 
 Braithwaite." 
 
 " There will be one change we won t wait 
 ten years for, Perkins. We are going to spend 
 no more money on lawyers. We hev got a 
 lawyer in t firm now. Good afternoon to 
 thee." 
 
 However, this was but a passing breeze ; for 
 one morning, more than ten years afterwards, 
 Perkins went to Bevin Mill to see Amos and 
 found that he had gone to Bradley. He fol 
 lowed him there, and was told he was in the 
 summer-house with the children. There Per 
 kins soon came upon him, as happr as a boy
 
 AMOS BRAITHWAITE AND SON. i?Z 
 
 among Joe s eldest four children. Amos, 
 Junior, was busy pulling to pieces a bit of toy 
 machinery, and Jean Braithwaite, aged six, was 
 examining her grandfather on the history of 
 Jack-the-Giant-Killer, an examination from 
 which the self-made man came out with dis 
 creditable confusion on account of defective 
 early training. 
 
 He put Jean off one knee and Sam off the 
 other, but it was with difficulty he could get 
 away from the children, and Perkins wondered 
 "if they weren t a great trouble to him." 
 
 " Not nearly so much as thou art. Whativer 
 does ta want to-day?" 
 
 " Barley-steads is in t market, and Mr. Joe 
 wants to buy it. I told him he sud know first 
 of any one." 
 
 " Joe is up to t mill." 
 
 " My word, Amos, what a change that mill 
 lies made in Bradley. T village is a big town, 
 and I hear Mr. Joe is to be mayor." 
 
 "Thou hears a deal o nonsense. Joe hes 
 more sense than to mind ivery body s business. 
 And I told thee what t mill would do. If owd 
 Bradley hed hed as much sense as a hank o 
 wool he would hev turned thet water into gold
 
 292 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 
 thirty years ago. A man hes no right to let so 
 much water-power go to waste." 
 
 " I heard also thet Mr. Joe was going to run 
 t Conservative ticket for parliament." 
 
 "Joe could do it, but he s far too good a 
 man for such a job. James Sedbergh left it 
 because of its irregularities and t bad hours it 
 kept. My Joe is thet way too." 
 
 Here they were interrupted by a glad cry of 
 " There s grandpapa, there s grandpapa ! " and 
 Joe and Edith and the children came down the 
 lilac avenue together. " Thou lt hev to stay 
 all night, thou sees, Perkins, but thou can talk 
 Barley-steads over with Joe, and tak thy time 
 about it. And in t morning thou sail go to 
 church wi me. Thou needs a good, rousing 
 sermon I ll be bound." 
 
 Joe was now a handsome, portly man, with 
 the grave look of one who carries the daily 
 bread of a whole little community in his hands ; 
 and it was pleasant to see how thoughtful Edith 
 was of this, and how she quieted the children, 
 and contrived that Joe and Perkins should get 
 away unobserved to the library after tea. 
 
 Pleasanter still to see the whole family tend 
 ing churchward next morning, Amos trying to
 
 AMOS BRAITHWAITE AND SON. 293 
 
 subdue his usual pompous, bustling way and 
 set an example to all of grave and serious 
 attention. He had Edith on his arm, Joe and 
 the children followed, and Perkins and Martha 
 Thrale completed the family group. And 
 though Perkins did not get the rousing sermon 
 Amos thought he needed, he heard a very 
 earnest talk on a subject that seemed to him, 
 when he looked at Joe, singularly appropriate, 
 "Redeeming the time" redeeming the time 
 wasted through folly or mistake or misappre 
 hension, holding it for richest truth 
 
 "That men may rise on stepping-stones 
 Qi their dead selves to higher things." 
 
 THE END.
 
 
 DATE DUE 
 
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