OSES 
 
 AND 
 
 THISTLES 
 
 SAMUEL MORTON
 
 /

 
 ROSES AND THISTLES.
 
 THE HORSEWHIP WHISTLED ROUND HIS HEAD AND 
 CAME WITH A VICIOUS CUT ACROSS HIS SHOULDERS. 
 
 Chap. 13.
 
 JflOl. OC CALIF- LHMK. LOS ** 
 
 ROSES AND THISTLES 
 
 BY 
 
 SAM. HORTON, 
 
 Author of " For King and Parliament," " Her Bonnie 
 
 Pit Laddie," "Prince Charlie of the Canongate," "The 
 
 Charm of the Cross," "Rags and Velvet," 
 
 "Lilliath," Etc., Etc. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 ERNEST PRATER. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 W. A. HAMMOND, HOLBORN HALL, CLERKENWELL 
 ROAD, E.C.
 
 TO 
 
 SIR GEORGE GREEN, 
 
 (GLASGOW), 
 
 WHOSE FRIENDSHIP I GREATLY PRIZE, 
 
 AND WHO 
 
 HAS ALWAYS SHOWN A CONSPICUOUS 
 
 INTEREST IN EVERY MOVEMENT THAT 
 
 AIMS AT BENEFITTING HUMANITY.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. AMONG THE ROSES 7 
 
 II. OVER THE GARDEN WALL 18 
 
 III. A NONCONFORMIST BISHOP ... 33 
 
 IV. THE COMING OF THE CHILD ... 42 
 
 V. A GOOD SHEPHERD 49 
 
 VI. THE LAND AND THE LADY ... 60 
 
 VII. THE RED ACRES 70 
 
 VIII. HE THAT REMEMBERETH THE POOR 81 
 
 IX. THE HEARTACHE OF THE RICH ... 91 
 
 X. Two SERMONS 100 
 
 XI. AND HE SPAKE IN PARABLES ... 114 
 
 XII. MANY HAPPY RETURNS 127 
 
 XIII. A SNAKE AMIDST THE FLOWERS ... 141 
 
 XIV. CALLED TO BE A MINISTER ... 153 
 
 XV. THE GUILE OF A HUMOURIST ... 168 
 
 XVI. A RACE 181 
 
 XVII. SHE SANG OF HOME 205 
 
 XVIII. LADY WINCANTON'S PARTY ... 214 
 
 XIX. THE RETURN OF A WANDERER ... 222 
 
 XX. FOR RICHER, FOR POORER ... 239 
 
 XXI. HE WENT ABOUT DOING GOOD ... 247 
 
 XXII. THE PLOTTING OF THE WICKED ... 259 
 
 XXIII. THE DEEP WATERS 269 
 
 XXIV. THE TRIAL OF INNOCENCY.^ ... 279 
 
 XXV. LOVE IN THE MIRE 290 
 
 XXVI. THE BLINDING OF JUSTICE ... 298 
 
 XXVII. THE HAND OF THE POLICE ... 313 
 
 XXVIII. VENGEANCE is MINE 321 
 
 XXIX. A STRANGE CONFESSION 330 
 
 XXX. NEMESIS 338
 
 R <
 
 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 AMONG THE ROSES. 
 
 " A man must have beautiful roses in his heart before he 
 can have beautiful roses in his garden." DEAN HOLE. 
 
 " COME here, missis. That's what I call a 
 picter. It would take some lickin' in the 
 'Cademy. I guess the angels binna far away, 
 having a private view, and smilin' reet down to 
 the bottom of their wings. She's rare and bonnie, 
 and fits into that framework of roses as though 
 she'd been made for it. Roses and young lassies 
 are just the two sweetest things God has made, 
 at least that I know anything aboot and when, 
 you get 'em both together it's like honey on 
 currant cake." 
 
 It was, indeed, a pretty sight to which Rufus 
 Wentworth called the attention of his wife. 
 In a rustic arbour, covered with roses, white 
 and red, with here and there a spray of honey- 
 suckle intermingling, sat a young girl, fast 
 asleep. A book she had been reading lay at 
 her feet, having fallen from her hand, and the 
 tresses of her long chestnut hair hung in be- 
 wildering confusion around her shoulders. The 
 features were perfectly oval, the forehead arched 
 and prominent, the lips rich and full, while a 
 saucy little dimple gave character to her white 
 chin. The cheeks were like a peach kissed by 
 the morning sun.
 
 8 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " Poor girl, she is weary," said Mrs. Went- 
 worth. " She has been working hard at her 
 music, for she is determined to get her certificate 
 this year." 
 
 " She'll do it, too," replied Rufus, " sure as 
 the yolks of eggs is yallow. She's real grit, 
 from crown to heel. Some young folks have 
 got brains but no backbone, and they generally 
 turn out wastrils ; others have backbone and 
 no brains, and they are simpletons ; but she 
 has both, and goodness, which is best of all. 
 She weighs sixteen ounces to every pound, and 
 the best quality at that. I dunno wonder the 
 young fellows lose their heads over her. If I 
 was young again, and thou wasn't in the way, 
 I believe I'd be as bad as any one of 'em. But 
 she's got summat you never had, and that's a 
 bit of temper. Sakes alive, how she does 
 rumple up ! " 
 
 " You should not tease her, Rufus," said 
 his wife. " You really are too bad for any- 
 thing." 
 
 Rufus chuckled. 
 
 " Guess," he said, " I do make her rufne. 
 She jumps like a chestnut in the fire. I just 
 said this morning, ' I fear, Gwen, you're going 
 to be left on the shelf after all. Why, you 
 haven't had an offer for a whole month now. 
 The young men binna as hot as they were, and 
 I donno hear of ony more promising to drown 
 themselves because you have sent them a hard- 
 hearted refusal on a sheet of scented notepaper 
 with a pansy in the corner. You'll be an old 
 maid yet, and have nobody to talk to but a cat, 
 and maybe a poll parrot, when you get old/
 
 AMONG THE ROSES. 9 
 
 And then she flew at me like a mad canary, 
 and says : ' You are a nasty old man. You 
 want to get rid of me, but I won't marry, no, 
 never, just to spite you.' La ! she is pratty 
 to look at when she's riled, and has her feathers 
 up, like a peacock with his tail spread." 
 
 11 I call it downright wicked," replied his 
 wife, whose sense of humour was so small that 
 Rufus sometimes said " she ought to have 
 been put in a world where laughing was for- 
 bidden, because it would be so easy for her to 
 keep the law." " You carry your teasing to 
 improper lengths. I like a bit of fun as well 
 as anybody, but I do think there should be 
 moderation in it. I am sure Gwen's very 
 patient with you. ' I often wonder she does not 
 get annoyed long before she does. Just fancy 
 you telling her yesterday, in the presence of 
 the minister, that Billy Bowden, that poor 
 witless fellow, had been hanging round the 
 greenhouses for weeks, wanting to marry her." 
 
 "Well," said Rufus. " It's the truth. He 
 was there every day sure enough. So, having 
 a kind of inkling from what quarter the wind 
 was blowing, I says, ' Billy, when bin you goin' 
 to git married ? " ' When Miss Gwen's ready,' 
 he says, pat as a pound of butter. ' Oh ! it's 
 Miss Gwen ye are hankering after,' I answers, 
 ' is it ? I'm afraid you are a flirt, Billy. Last 
 time I mentioned the subject I remember it 
 was Jennie Baxter you were in love with.' 
 ' She wouldna have me. She said my legs were 
 crooked, and that I was lazy.' ' Well, Billy,' 
 I said, ' that was about your size, wasn't it ? ' 
 * Nay,' he replied, ' my legs binna crooked.
 
 io ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 They are only turned in a bit at the knees. I 
 can straighten them when I like. And I'm not 
 lazy neither, Mr. Wentworth. I held a horse 
 last week for a gentleman, and I fetched a bucket 
 of water the week before.' ' No wonder you 
 are so thin, Billy, if you work like that. But,' 
 said I, ' you have not asked my permission, 
 you know.' ' It's not thee I want,' says Billy, 
 ' it's Miss Gwen. You tell her, Mr. Wentworth, 
 will you ? ' Well, now, with such an offer for 
 her, how could I keep it to myself ? I thought 
 I had better tell her when the minister was 
 present so if she thought of accepting she could 
 make arrangements for the wedding at once." 
 
 " You are incorrigible," exclaimed his wife, 
 who, having been a schoolmistress, had a com- 
 mand of language which at times fairly staggered 
 her husband. 
 
 " Which ? " replied her husband. That was 
 his stock word when he did not understand her. 
 " Dictionaries, bin you calling about," he said 
 once to a man seeking an order for the Royal 
 Dictionary. " I have one five feet five inches 
 tall, and eight stones weight, and I wouldna 
 exchange it for any other in the market." 
 
 " But this," said the agent, " has five 
 thousand more words than any other, and is 
 thoroughly up to date and reliable." 
 
 " Dunno know how many words mine has 
 in it," replied Rufus, " cos I've never had time 
 to stop and count, but there binna one word 
 I want but it's there wi'oot waiting. As to 
 being up-to-date, I'll warrant it to be the latest 
 fashion, and it's as reliable as the clock in the 
 church steeple, which hanna lost five minutes
 
 AMONG THE ROSES. 11 
 
 for forty years." Rufus was proud of his wife, 
 but liked to tease her. 
 
 " You are a frivolous old man," she rejoined. 
 
 " Ay," said Rufus, " I am a living example 
 of the truth of Scripture, ' Evil communica- 
 tions corrupt good manners.' Living with you 
 and Gwen kind of makes a man light-headed, 
 and feel ashamed of getting old. Now, if you 
 had only lived up to your privileges, and been 
 naggin' and snarlin' as wives ought to be, who 
 want their husbands to grow up old in decent 
 time, and Gwen had been a bother and a heart- 
 ache instead of a blessin', I might have had 
 a chance and come out like a pocket edition of 
 Job. Why, there are times when I feel like 
 jumping five-barred gates as I did when I was 
 a lad. I just enjoy a day's bird's-nesting as 
 much as any boy in the National school. Bless 
 me, there are men at my age who are round- 
 shouldered and they are weak on their pins, 
 and they canna eat anything but slops, and 
 rice puddin', for fear of dyspepsy or jaundice, 
 and here I'm as straight as a gatepost, and can 
 digest anything that isn't as hard as tenpenny 
 nails. No, you hanno given me a chance. 
 It's down right scandalous that a man nigh 
 seventy should be able to walk five miles before 
 breakfast and ten miles after his tea, and do 
 a day's work between. But I canna help it," 
 he continued, with a comical expression on his 
 face. ' ' It's all your fault, and Gwen's. You've 
 a lot to answer for, sure as pickle cabbage donno 
 grow on raspberry bushes. I'm what they 
 scientists call ' the product of my 'vironment.' ' 
 
 His wife smiled as she looked into his good-
 
 12 ROSES AND THISTLES- 
 
 humoured face, in which there twinkled a pair 
 of eyes as bright as stars. 
 
 " There you are," he said, " smilin' like a 
 May day, and as good lookin' as when I married 
 you, twenty-four years, three months, twelve 
 days, and three hours since, and you niver 
 once said that you were sorry you ever yoked 
 into harness with me. And you've never made 
 a pie crust that I had to use the hatchet to get 
 through, nor cooked a steak so that I had to 
 fetch the saw to divide it up. I tell you, you 
 haven't a decent notion of how to make a 
 husband grow old, with your pastry that melts 
 in the mouth, and cookin' that's fit for a king. 
 It binna fair on the doctor, not one little bit. 
 You should live and let live. I've never had 
 a bottle of medicine in forty years. I says to 
 him the other day, ' Dr. Gilmour, I'm kind of 
 shamed to meet you in the street.' ' How's 
 that, Rufus ? ' says he. ' Well," I answers, 
 ' I like to be neighbourly, and for forty-five 
 years I've never bought as much as a penn'orth 
 of parygoric, or a ha'porth of stickin' plaster of 
 you.' I says, ' I'm not likely to want any, as 
 things are, in your line ; but if you like to make 
 up a few quart bottles of medicine that will 
 cure all sorts of complaints, and will keep, I 
 don't mind stocking them, since you are a good 
 customer of mine. They might come in handy 
 when you are dead and gone, because our Lucy 
 donno mean letting you have a chance while 
 you're living." 
 
 "You didn't," exclaimed his wife. "The 
 doctor will think you are a queer man." 
 
 " It's true, as white roses binna black," said
 
 AMONG THE ROSES. 13 
 
 Rufus. " Do you think I'm going to have the 
 blame of goin' about like a lad of twenty at 
 nearly three-score and ten, put on my shoulders ? 
 Not I. I tell you I'm just a walkin' certificate 
 wherever I go that I've got a wife at home that 
 wonna let me get old like other folks decently, 
 and in the order of nature." 
 
 " And what did the doctor say ? " asked 
 his wife. 
 
 " He said he'd walk round and have a talk 
 with you some day, and see if he couldn't get 
 you to give him a look in. But he declared I 
 owed him nothing since I took to growing kow- 
 cumbers, and givin' them away in the village. 
 Said he : ' There's dyspepsia a foot long hangin' 
 in every kowcumber in your glasshouse.' And 
 so that relieved my conscience so far as the 
 doctor was concerned." 
 
 Rufus went off laughing down the garden 
 walk lined on each side with flower beds which 
 were a sight to see. 
 
 When he neared the harbour in which the 
 girl slept, he broke a spray of lad's love from 
 a bush, and stepping quickly behind her, began 
 to tickle her nose. At first she mechanically 
 brushed it away with her hand, but when the 
 tickling continued she opened her eyes, and 
 suddenly springing to her feet she turned round 
 smartly and boxed his ears, at which, putting 
 up both hands, he ran till he reached one of 
 the greenhouses, while she pelted him with 
 leaves and flowers. Shutting himself up and 
 locking the door, he first made faces at her 
 through the glass, and then sat down on the 
 bench and laughed till he was purple in the face.
 
 i 4 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " Upon my word, he gets worse every day," 
 she said, as she joined Mrs. Wentworth. 
 
 " That is just what I have been telling him. 
 For a man of his years and a local preacher 
 to carry on as he does is positively outrageous. 
 I don't know whatever the village will think of 
 him. He acts just like a schoolboy in his 
 holidays." 
 
 " I believe life is just a long holiday to dad," 
 said Gwen. " He seems to enjoy everything 
 so, and it is a positive treat to hear him laugh. 
 He sees the best side of everybody. I some- 
 times wish I were more like him. But come, 
 mother, it is time we were getting tea ready ; 
 and we will make him a raisin cake." 
 
 " There you are, Gwen, finding fault with 
 him one moment and petting and pampering 
 him the next. That's the way you spoil him." 
 
 " Spoil him," replied Gwen, lifting her eye- 
 brows. " I wonder who it is gets up at five 
 o'clock and makes him a cup of tea, and takes 
 it to bed to him every morning ? And who 
 is it that is always plotting and planning how 
 to surprise him with all sorts of sweetmeats ? 
 If the dear old boy could have been spoiled he 
 would have been spoilt twenty years ago. But 
 I do like to see his face when a raisin cake comes 
 on the table. He looks like an incarnate bene- 
 diction, and he eats it as though it were manna 
 sent from heaven. 
 
 While the women were busy with the tea 
 cups, Rufus came out of the greenhouse, and 
 commenced making a nosegay of lovely rose- 
 buds. With great deftness he cut and arranged 
 them, and when he had finished they formed
 
 AMONG THE ROSES. 15 
 
 as perfect a bouquet as it is possible to conceive. 
 Rufus described himself as a market gardener, 
 but the dav had long since gone by when he 
 needed to grow for the market, and now, although 
 he sent a consignment of flowers to Manchester 
 twice a week, it was only what he called his 
 surplus stock. He grew flowers for his own 
 pleasure, and to give away. 
 
 Once an American traveller, who had wan- 
 dered in the village asked a boy if there was 
 anything in the place worth seeing. 
 
 " Ay ! " said the lad, " there is Mr. Went- 
 worth's garden." 
 
 * ' And what is there in the garden ? " he 
 inquired. 
 
 " Roses." 
 
 * ' And what else." 
 
 " More roses." 
 
 " Well, are there any great men living about 
 here ? " 
 
 " There's nobut Mister Wentworth," he 
 replied. 
 
 ' 'And what is he ? Member of Parliament, eh ?" 
 
 " No," said the lad, " he grows roses." 
 
 And the stranger went to look at the garden, 
 and he was astonished, for he saw three acres 
 of roses, and a little man with a big head and 
 a boy's face wheeling manure along the walk. 
 
 ' ' Can you tell me where I can see the boss ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 Rufus, for it was he, dropped the handles of 
 the barrow, and with a twinkle in his eye, said, 
 " Guess, if you go to that door yonder, and 
 knock, and ask for Gwen, you'll have your 
 curiosity satisfied."
 
 16 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 He went, and when, radiant in a print dress, 
 there came a young lady with magnificent eyes, 
 and a sweet smile, to the door, he was taken 
 aback. " I beg your pardon, miss," he said, 
 " but a man in the garden said if I came here 
 I should find the boss." 
 
 " If you mean my dad, he's yonder," she 
 said, pointing to the little man sitting on his 
 barrow, and peeping down the border of rose 
 bushes, watching developments. 
 
 " Why, that's the gard that is the man who 
 sent me here to ask for Gwen." 
 
 " I must apologise, sir," she said, blushing 
 to the roots of her hair. " It's just one of my 
 dad's jokes. 
 
 When an hour afterwards the stranger left, 
 with a rose in his coat, he acknowledged he had 
 seen three things which had surprised him. 
 The most beautiful girl he had ever set eyes on, 
 the most lovely garden, and the most entertain- 
 ing old man." 
 
 When Rufus had finished his bouquet, he 
 sat and wrote a label and fastened it on : " For 
 Miss Madeline, from Uncle Rufus. ' Sorrow 
 may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the 
 morning." 
 
 This was one of Rufus's pastimes, to send 
 bouquets to the sick, and with the flowers a 
 favourite text. 
 
 Just when he had completed his task, Gwen 
 came to the door and shouted Tea." 
 
 ' ' Shouldn't wonder," said he, ' ' if that 
 means raisin cake. These women are always 
 temptin' us poor male mortals through the 
 stummack. That is how the trouble first began.
 
 AMONG THE ROSES. 17 
 
 But "<, said he, screwing up his face in a kind 
 of knot, " I'm notj quite sure whether it has 
 not bin worth while. Anyhow, we like it, and 
 raisin cake is good."
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 OVER THE GARDEN WALL. 
 
 " And learn the luxury of doing good." GOLDSMITH. 
 
 RUFUS WENTWORTH'S garden ran parallel 
 with the street, and was separated from it by 
 a grey stone wall. When Rufus first rented the 
 place this wall was so high that nobody could 
 see over it from the street. He applied for 
 permission from his landlord to lower it, but 
 this was refused. 
 
 " Can't see why you want to lower it," said 
 Lord Forrester. " If you are going to grow 
 flowers and fruit it will be the best protection 
 you can have against thieves." 
 
 " It's not high walls, nor thick-set hedges 
 that will keep out dishonest folks, my Lord," 
 said Rufus. " I've been told the poachers 
 have bin among your lordship's pheasants in 
 the park, and the hedges are high enough and 
 thick enough to keep out any but those who 
 are determined to be in. I'm not afraid of 
 anybody taking my stuff." 
 
 " But it is such a strange request. Why do 
 you want it down ? " 
 
 " Well, you see, my lord, I've a horror of 
 high walls and tall hedges. Seems like as
 
 OVER THE GARDEN WALL. 19 
 
 though we want to rail off a bit of God's earth 
 for our own benefit, and wouldna so much as 
 let a fellow creature have a glint at it. Seein' 
 dunno do any harm, and if there's a beautiful 
 bit of landscape, or a natural waterfall, why 
 should we deny our fellow creatures havin' the 
 sight of it ? I'm not sure, my lord, if we've any 
 reet to do it, and I dunno know that any amount of 
 money can give us the reet. I know we claim 
 it, but some things the law courts of earth giv' 
 us the title deeds to, wunno stand in the law 
 court of heaven. It appears to me, my lord, 
 if you will excuse me sayin' so, that rich men 
 who shut out the common folk from the beauti- 
 ful scenery and the flowers, wunno be likely to 
 get the front seats and best views in the other 
 world ; for, as far as I read, we shall have 
 done to us pretty much what we do to others." 
 But his lordship had old-fashioned views as 
 to the rights of property, .and refused to yield. 
 But when he had one of his periodical losses on 
 the turf a few years after, he was obliged to sell 
 part of the estate. Rufus bought his own 
 house, and a few days later the two top courses 
 of the wall came off, so that to every passer-by 
 there was open a vision of beauty. And none 
 in the summer passed without stopping to 
 look at the roses, and many a tired woman and 
 weary child carried with them a rose to cheer 
 them on their way. And Rufus would come 
 and chat over the garden wall to his neighbours, 
 and at eventide two or three of his particular 
 cronies came and sat on the top, and smoked 
 their pipes, and debated national politics, or 
 discussed local news.
 
 20 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 And so it came to pass, in the course of time, 
 that the garden wall was the recognised meeting 
 place of the elders of the village, and many a 
 grave subject was thrashed out there, from the 
 value of guano as manure, to the policy of 
 the German Emperor. And it was a pleasant 
 thing on a summer evening to see five or six 
 of these village elders sitting in a row like so 
 many sparrows on a telegraph wire, all except 
 Rufus puffing away at a long churchwarden 
 and gravely putting Church and State right ; 
 and between times talking about the weedy 
 condition of Houchin's wurzles, or the need of 
 Nelson's sow having a ring through her nose to 
 prevent her from " rooting." 
 
 In that assembly, Rufus, by right of fitness, 
 was a kind of leader, for all tacitly acknowledged 
 his superiority in thought and speech. Dudman, 
 the miller, came next. He was a little withered 
 man, lame on one leg. He was at constant war 
 with the lads who would make his mill windows 
 the mark of their catapults, and he was always 
 declaring " a worse set of scoundrels never 
 existed." But he owned his mill, and was 
 supposed to know a lot about politics, because 
 he got the * * Times," two days old, from his son 
 in London. He was a fine, crusted old Tory, 
 as was becoming a man of property and a reader 
 of the leading journal. Crickmore, the tailor, 
 generally sat next a good man, who all his life 
 had battled with a quick temper and a weak 
 stomach, and did kindly acts on the sly, and 
 whose word at any time was as good as ready 
 money. Billy Brunton, a picturesque old fellow, 
 who had been twice round the world, and who
 
 OVER THE GARDEN WALL. 21 
 
 was supposed to know a lot, but whose con- 
 tribution to the debates consisted of "Hum" 
 and " Ah," and, when he was feeling strongly, 
 ' ' Bosh " was the third. A retired farmer 
 named Jenkins was the fourth, and the fifth 
 Levi Morris, a man who had read more books 
 than the vicar, wrote poetry for his own amuse- 
 ment and then burnt it, and was as much afraid 
 of women as a rabbit is of a weazel. It was this 
 little parliament that really decided the long 
 vexed question of the settlement of a pastor 
 for the Congregational church. For months 
 the congregation had been ministered to by 
 " supplies, with a view to a settlement," but 
 none of them suited one-half of the congregation, 
 and the other half would have been content 
 with any one of the candidates. One read his 
 sermons, another shouted, and the third had 
 what Crickmore termed " the jerks." A fourth 
 was so boldly heterodox that his sermon was 
 more debated than any other that had been 
 preached in the village for years. But at length 
 the choice lay between three candidates, and 
 Crickmore, who was senior deacon, laid the 
 case before the Witenagemot. 
 
 " There's Pearson, he is a staid man, married, 
 and nine children. He preached on the woman 
 with seven stars. Everybody admits it was a 
 wonderful sermon, full of poetry and illustra- 
 tions. Then Jebson, he's a young man who 
 has had five churches in three years, and that 
 makes against him, I'll admit ; but he is a 
 marvellous preacher, and, according to his own 
 account, a good visitor. You see he stayed with 
 me, and my wife and daughter were taken with
 
 22 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 him. The account he gave of his own work was 
 remarkable. The other is Chesterton. He is 
 very young, and has not had a charge yet, and 
 so is untried ; but he impressed me as being 
 modest and earnest, although he is not the 
 preacher either of the others are by a long way. 
 But the young folks have fallen in love with him, 
 and if it went by THEIR vote, it would soon be 
 settled. But I'm for Pearson myself, if for no 
 other reason than that his family will help to 
 fill the chapel." 
 
 " And I," said Dudman (who always differed 
 from Crickmore), " am for Jebson. He can 
 preach Pearson's head off." 
 
 " He can talk about nothing but himself," 
 said Crickmore. " He had a solid three hours, 
 telling us about his own doings after supper, 
 and would have gone on till four o'clock in the 
 morning if I had not sent him to bed." 
 
 For three weeks this momentous question 
 was discussed without coming any nearer to 
 an agreement, until Rufus settled it by suggest- 
 ing that as Crickmore wanted Pearson and 
 Dudman wanted Jebson, they should agree to 
 invite neither, but fix on Chesterton, which 
 they did, and to him was given the call. 
 
 Rufus, one afternoon, was busy in his garden 
 syringing some rose trees. Far down the street 
 he could see a big, awkward lad shambling along, 
 carrying a quart pot in his hand. Every now 
 and then he stuck a finger into the middle of 
 the pot, and then, drawing it forth, quickly 
 inserted it in his mouth and sucked it. Between 
 times he was whistling a Sunday-school hymn. 
 
 When he got alongside the wall, Rufus stopped
 
 OVER THE GARDEN WALL. 23 
 
 him. " Hallo ! Billy. Treacle in that jug, eh ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wentworth." 
 
 * ' And what's that you're whistling ? " 
 
 " Want to be an angel," replied the lad, 
 shamefacedly. 
 
 " That's a strange kind of mixture, Billy. 
 Want to be an angel, and stealing your mother's 
 treacle. You won't grow wings that way, my 
 lad." 
 
 ' ' I wonno' stealin', Mister Wentworth. Deed, 
 I wonno ! " 
 
 ' ' No," replied Rufus, ' * you were taking it 
 and sayin' nothin' ! Well, there isn't much 
 difference, I guess, in the police-courts. But 
 look here, lad, let me give you a bit of advice. 
 * Keep your ringers out of other folks' treacle 
 jars. And tell the truth, lad. Fibbin' and 
 stealin' have sent many a man to the gallows. 
 Did thou ever hear, Billy, that the devil is a 
 fool ? ' " 
 
 "No, Mr. Wentworth." 
 
 " Well, he is. The biggest fool going. Why, 
 now, look at this. First he tempts you to stick 
 your finger into the treacle pot, and he tells 
 you nobody 'ull know. Then he leads you to 
 lie about it, but he hadn't gumpshun to warn 
 you to rub the stains from round the corners of 
 your mouth. Why, anybody with eyes can 
 tell you have been tastin' the sweets of sin, lad." 
 
 Bill took his sleeve, and, wiping his mouth, 
 said, ' ' Well, I didn't take much." 
 
 " Six licks between here and the corner of 
 the street," replied Rufus. " And all the 
 treacle in the pot binna' worth the lie you told. 
 Here's a penny, lad. Go to Molly Hinton's and
 
 24 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 buy some mint humbugs. They'll taste as 
 good as treacle and last a bonnie sight longer. 
 I knaw the devil is apt to take you youngsters 
 as a fisherman does a trout, by puttin' his hook 
 in your mouth. But remember this Billy, 
 there are some things sweet to the palate and 
 bitter in the stomach." 
 
 Rufus returned to his employment, and the 
 lad went on down the street. By and by a 
 man came along the street with a pig in a donkey 
 cart. Rufus hailed him, and again went to the 
 wall. This time with three roses in his hand. 
 ' "Well, John," he said, "and how's the 
 missus ? " 
 
 " She's very whammy, Rufus," he replied. 
 " It's her back now, and if it binna her back 
 it's her legs, and if it binna her legs it's her arms, 
 and sumtimes it's all on 'um at once. There's 
 only one thing it don't touch, and thet's her 
 tongue." 
 
 1 1 Ah ! " replied Rufus, ' ' it's hard for you 
 both, but you mon be patient, John. Patience 
 is a fine thing. Just suffering with your mouth 
 shut. You knaw it's harder far for Martha than 
 it is for you." 
 
 "Why, aye!" said John dubiously, "I 
 wouldna mind if it was only in the day time, 
 but it's all the neet as well. No sooner do I 
 shut my eyes than she's groanin' and nudgin' 
 my elbow to make her a cup o' tay, or git her 
 medicin, or summat. But it conna last long, 
 that's a comfort." 
 
 ' Well, John, just take her these roses with 
 my compliments, and tell her to read the verse 
 I've fastened to them. It's a fine, comfortin'
 
 OVER THE GARDEN WALL. 25 
 
 bit o' scripture thet, c Casting all your care upon 
 Him, for He careth for you.' And here's a bit 
 of silver to buy a chicken for her." 
 
 " Thank you," said John. " It's very kind 
 of you. I'm sure. There binna many that 
 ever trubbles to ax if she's got a mouth. And 
 I'm just takin' the pig to sell to pay the rent." 
 
 " And a fine pig she is. How much are you 
 askin' for her." 
 
 ' 1 Well, she's worth seven pounds of onybody's 
 money, but Mr. Bailey, the butcher, he knaws 
 that I'm fast, so he says he'll only give me five 
 pund ten, and I mun take it or leave it. It binna 
 near her worth as you can see wi' your own eyes. 
 But the agent won't wait any longer. He says 
 he has had his orders from her Ladyship. The 
 time is out, and nobody's wanted that don't 
 pay. The meal and taters that pig has eaten 
 would nearly fill a coal-pit. It's very hard. 
 The butcher is a tight un. He'd skin a flea fur 
 its hide. But I mun let her go, I reckon, or 
 be turned into the road, and the wife's frettin' 
 her inside to fiddle-strings about it." 
 
 " Well," said Rufus, " have you promised 
 him the pig at his price." 
 
 " Not yet, but 
 
 " Well, then," Rufus went on, " you can tell 
 Bailey that you've an offer for the pig at six 
 pound fifteen, and if he dunno care to take her 
 you bring her back. But if I knaw bacon when 
 I see it he'll take it." 
 
 " You dunno mean " began John. 
 
 " Ay," said Rufus ; "I dunno want an 
 animal like that any more than I want a hippo- 
 potamus, but I knaw the value of a pig, and
 
 26 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 I know Bailey. If lie wunno take her, I'll see 
 what I can do." 
 
 An hour later John called round to say that 
 the butcher had bought the pig at seven pounds. 
 
 " I thought he would," chuckled Rufus. 
 1 'What did he say ?" 
 
 11 He said that if you had your finger in the 
 pie it was spoiled for his eatin'. But he will be 
 square wi' you before he's done." 
 
 " Yes," replied Rufus, " Bailey is one of 
 those sharp men that cuts himself. He's so 
 keen makin' money that he forgets there is a 
 line between honest and dishonest profit. The 
 pig was worth seven pounds, and he knew it." 
 
 Shortly after John was gone, an open carriage, 
 drawn by a splendid pair of bays came along, 
 in which there sat an elderly lady and a young 
 man. When the carriage was opposite the 
 garden the lady exclaimed, ' ' Oh ! how lovely. 
 Do stop, John, a moment, and let me look at 
 the roses." 
 
 Rufus guessed aright that this was Lady 
 Wincanton, who had lately purchased Lord 
 Forrester's estate, and that the young man was 
 her son, just returned from service in Egypt. 
 When the carriage stopped, Rufus quickly 
 snapped off a number of roses, and fastening 
 one of the tags to them on which was the text, 
 " Behold I come quickly and My reward is with 
 Me, to give every man according as his work 
 shall be," he approached the wall with a bow. 
 
 '* Would your ladyship kindly accept a small 
 bouquet ? " he asked. " I've cut the best 
 before, for this is one of the market days, but 
 there are worse roses than these."
 
 OVER THE GARDEN WALL. 27 
 
 "Oh! thank you," said the lady, smiling, 
 11 I think they are perfect." 
 
 " I'll not say that, but they are the nighest 
 things to perfection there is on earth. But 
 they have their thorns to remind us that even 
 beauty may sometimes be dangerous." 
 
 " Who owns this wonderful garden ? " asked 
 the lady, not accustomed to such moralising as 
 Rufus indulged in. 
 
 " Why, God Almighty owns it," he replied, 
 " and I'm his under steward. To tell you the 
 truth, ma'am, I never like to hear folks talk 
 about owning anything, but specially sich things 
 as land, and trees and flowers. The very last 
 time I was up at the Hall, Lord Forrester 
 talked about HIS park, and HIS deer, and HIS 
 farmers, and HIS keepers and labourers, as if 
 the earth and the very souls and bodies of men 
 belonged to him. I said to him, ' My Lord, 
 why don't you run a chalk line round the moon 
 and the stars, and say they are yours as well ? ' 
 He laughed, for he knew me, and brought some 
 money out of his breeches' pocket, and said, 
 1 Money, Wentworth ; money will do many 
 things, but it won't buy the stars.' And I says, 
 1 No, my lord, nor what's above the stars. 
 Neither will it buy more than one hundred years' 
 tenancy of what is on earth, or in the earth.' 
 And a fortnight after he died, and, like the rest 
 of us, he went away open-handed. I saw Jenny 
 Kerwood makin' his shroud, and I advised her 
 to put some big pockets in it. ' But,' she said, 
 ' it would be no use, except to put his title deeds 
 in, and the lawyers and his creditors wudno' 
 let him take even them to the grave.' And
 
 28 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 now your Ladyship has bought the place, I hope 
 that you'll remember not to be hard with the 
 poor or oppress the hireling in his wages." 
 
 Lady Wincanton winced, for she had pur- 
 chased the estate cheap, with the idea of her 
 son settling down as a county magnate, but she 
 was not prepared for spending money on im- 
 proving the property or advancing the wages 
 of the men. Already she had been approached 
 by the agent on the subject of many much- 
 needed repairs and improvements, and had 
 most peremptorily told him her mind. Lord 
 Forrester's rule had been one of iron, but Lady 
 Wincanton's was likely to prove one of steel. 
 
 Rufus had some inkling as to how matters 
 stood, and hence his plain speaking. 
 
 During this conversation her son sat twisting 
 the ends of his moustache, seemingly taking no 
 interest in what was going forward. He hated 
 the country, and could not think why his mother 
 had been induced to buy Stourbridge Hall, 
 which, he declared, was fifty miles from every- 
 where. But his mother had her reasons, some 
 of which she gave, but the most important of 
 which she withheld. He, after a fortnight's 
 suffering from ennui, was longing to be back in 
 London, where he had in three months spent 
 a peer's income, and was recognised as one of 
 the fastest young bloods of the West End. 
 Some scandal about him and a young actress 
 had reached his mother's ears, and she, being 
 a woman of strong mind, at once took action, 
 bought Stourbridge, and dragged her son away 
 from the gaiety of the city to what he called 
 " rural incarceration."
 
 OVER THE GARDEN WALL. 29 
 
 He was getting tired of the old man's preach- 
 ing, when suddenly there came on the scene 
 a vision of beauty which caused him to open 
 his eyes and ejaculate ' ' Be-gad ! " 
 
 Emerging from among the trees was the most 
 beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had made 
 a wreath of rose-buds, and put it on her head, 
 while a glorious "Dijon" was pinned in her 
 dress, and she stepped like a queen. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, papa," she exclaimed, 
 " I did not know you were engaged. Here is a 
 telegram, and mamma thought I should bring 
 it to you at once." 
 
 " All right, Gwen," he said. " Thank you, 
 dear." 
 
 During this conversation Lady Wincanton 
 had sat with wonder in her eyes, looking at 
 Gwen, who had slightly bowed to the occupants 
 of the carriage. 
 
 " Your daughter, I presume, Mr. " 
 
 " Wentworth's my name ; but everyone calls 
 me Rufus. No, your ladyship, the Lord never 
 give me the honour of havin' children o' my 
 own. I wish she was. She's just the best and 
 prattiest bit of flesh and blood goin'. She is 
 Ai at Lloyd's." 
 
 " Well," replied her ladyship, " I must come 
 again some day and have a look through your 
 garden, and then I may get an introduction 
 
 to Miss . Ah. what did you [say her 
 
 name is ? ' 
 
 " She is Gwen to us, and she writes Went- 
 worth when she has any occasion for a second 
 name though that is not her name. But she 
 thinks it is, and she's carried that label ever
 
 3 o ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 since she was as high as a gillyflower. We 
 shall be glad to see your ladyship, if you can 
 put up with common folks and plain ways." 
 
 The carriage then drove off, and Lady Win- 
 canton turned to her son and laughingly said, 
 " What an amusing old man, to be sure. He 
 is quite an original. But the girl is certainly a 
 rustic beauty. I must see if I can engage her 
 for my maid." 
 
 Her son nodded his approval. His mother 
 thought he was indifferent. Had she known 
 it he was already formulating a plan for a private 
 call on Rufus, in order that he might again see 
 Gwen, whose beauty had made a great im- 
 pression on his mind. He had come to the 
 conclusion that country life might not be after 
 all entirely unendurable. 
 
 Rufus read his telegram, and then went into 
 the house with a smiling face. 
 
 " Well, Gwen," he said, " what do you think 
 of Lady Wincanton and her son ? " 
 
 " I barely got a look at them, Dad. But I 
 thought her dress was rather loud, and I wouldn't 
 be seen in that bonnet of hers for five pounds ! " 
 
 ' ' Aye ! " laughed Rufus, ' ' how much a 
 woman sees at a glance. I hardly noticed she 
 had a bonnet on. And what about her son ? " 
 
 * ' Oh ! " said Gwen, ' ' with his rings, and 
 waxen moustache, and patent leather boots, 
 he looked the very embodiment of shallow 
 conceit." 
 
 ' ' Dear me ! " exclaimed Rufus, ' * Poor 
 young fellow ! Shining at the wrong end, was 
 he, dear ? For quickness, there's nothing to 
 beat a woman, not even greased lightning.
 
 OVER THE GARDEN WALL. 31 
 
 Why, I do declare, you're Uncle Joe's comin'. 
 Put on the kettle, my dear." 
 
 At that moment there entered a sharp little 
 man, who, in appearance, was a pocket edition 
 of Rufus. " Our Rufe's got all the bones and 
 I got all the brains," was his characteristic reply 
 when anybody alluded to their respective sizes. 
 He was the best known man for fifty miles 
 round, an the mention of his name always raised 
 a smile. 
 
 "Hallo Rufe!" he exclaimed. "Guess 
 your job's gone now and you'll have to join the 
 unemployed. The new vicar binna going to 
 have you trottin' round the flock, he's going to 
 do the work himself. You've been Bishop of 
 Summerton long enough, and it's time somebody 
 else got an innings. I've had serious thoughts 
 of settin' up in that line myself, only I've not 
 butter enough on my tongue. But they say 
 the new man is a tartar for work." 
 
 " Thank God for that," replied Rufus. " He'll 
 find plenty to do in this parish. " Had your 
 tea, Joe ? " 
 
 " No, nor dinner either," said Joe, " and I'm 
 feelin' awful slack about the third button of 
 my waistcoat. I havn't two women to coddle 
 me at home like you, and often miss a meal 
 rather than be bothered to get it. It saves 
 time, and trouble, and good vittals." 
 
 ' ' You should get married, Uncle," said Gwen. 
 
 " That would be like cutting your foot off 
 because you are bothered with a corn," retorted 
 Joe. " The remedy's worse than the disease. 
 Marrying and hanging go together. The one 
 is for fools and the other for knaves."
 
 32 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 11 Joe," said his brother, " did thou ever 
 hear the story of the fox and the grapes ? " 
 
 " Ay," replied Joe, " and of the fox who lost 
 his tail and tried to persuade all the rest that 
 their tails were as useless as warts on your nose, 
 or bunions on your feet. Say grace, Rufe, and 
 let's get to business. Those hot cakes are just 
 crying to be eaten. But cut it short, man ; 
 the shorter the grace, the longer the meal. I 
 feel like a balloon wi' all the gas out." 
 
 * ' Humph," said Rufus, * ' if all the gas was 
 out of you, what would there be left ? " 
 
 " Brains enough to stock two parishes like 
 this," answered his brother. " That's the 
 reason I'm a bachelor."
 
 YOU LL GO NO FURTHER UNTIL YOU HAVE EMPTIED 
 YOUR POCKETS." 
 
 Chap. 3.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 A NONCONFORMIST BISHOP. 
 
 " He bore his great commission in his look." DRYDEN. 
 
 RUFUS was a lay preacher amongst the 
 Primitive Methodists, and a popular one into 
 the bargain. His unconventional style, quaint 
 sayings, and original illustrations, captured the 
 attentions of the country people, and he was 
 always sure of a crowded congregation. Beloved 
 and trusted by all who knew him, daily adorn- 
 ing the doctrine he preached, wise in council, 
 a sagacious and courageous leader, he was 
 everywhere known by the title which his 
 brother Joe had first coined for him " the 
 Methodist Bishop." He walked many miles 
 to preach the Gospel he loved. His Bible and 
 hymn book were his constant companions, he 
 knew them from cover to cover, studying them 
 on his long journeys on foot, until he could 
 recite many chapters through without a mistake. 
 
 " Put some flowers among your wheat," he 
 said to one of the ministers whose sermons were 
 thoughtful and good, but very heavy. ' ' That's 
 God's plan. The wheat is bonnie enough, but 
 the flowers are bonnier, and so the Heavenly 
 Father sticks a scarlet poppy here and a yellow
 
 34 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 marigold there for the sake of variety. ' Weeds, 
 nowt but weeds,' our Joe says ; but they are 
 there on purpose. They are God's illustrations ; 
 bits of colour to give relief to the green or gold 
 as it may be. Your sermons are wonderful, but 
 they are too much of a much-ness ; stick in 
 a few flowers, mon, if only for the sake of the 
 wimmin and the bairns." And that which 
 he advised others he practised himself. 
 
 " When I see the folks shuttin' their eyes, 
 and opening their mouths, or counting the flies 
 on the ceilin', or huntin' for peppermints to 
 keep themselves awake, I know I must waken 
 myself up, and so I stick in a bit of a story or 
 illustration, and they rise to it like trout to the 
 bait on a summer's evening." 
 
 He was returning home from a far-away 
 appointment one evening, and when night came 
 on he had still six long miles to walk ere he 
 reached home ; but bravely he trudged on, 
 singing 
 
 " Christ He sits on Zion's Hill, 
 He receives poor sinners still," 
 
 when from out of a coppice an evil looking man 
 sprang and barred the way. 
 
 11 Well, my lad, what do you want ? " asked 
 Rufus. 
 
 ' ' All you have ; and be quick about it," was 
 the insolent reply, accompanied by an oath. 
 
 ' ' You shouldna' swear, friend ; I always 
 refuse to talk to a swearer. I'd as soon eat 
 my dinner off a dirty plate as hold conversation 
 with a man that swears. So I must wish you 
 good-night, and a clean heart, and go and leave 
 you."
 
 A NONCONFORMIST BISHOP. 35 
 
 " You'll go no further until you have emptied 
 your pockets," said the thief; " so out wi' 
 your valuables if you've got any." 
 
 " Valuables, mon," replied Rufus, " I've 
 the most valuable thing in the world in my 
 pocket it's more precious than rubies." 
 
 "Rubies!" replied the astonished thief; 
 " what are you doin' with rubies r " 
 
 " Nay," said Rufus, " I didna say I had got 
 rubies, but something that is more precious 
 than rubies. Mon, I've a guide in my pocket 
 that tells where there is a pearl hidden that is 
 worth a thousand rubies." 
 
 " Now, then, owd man, no gammon wi' me, 
 or it will be wuss for you. If you've got owt 
 worth havin', out it comes. I dunna want to 
 be here all neet palaverin'. There will be 
 somebody comin' soon, and I want no inter- 
 ference." 
 
 " There is somebody here now, only you 
 canna see them. God is here, and the angels 
 are here, and I'm just as safe as if I were asleep 
 in bed at home. But this is what I've been 
 talking about " and he pulled his pocket Bible 
 out and presented it to the thief, who no sooner 
 saw what it was than he uttered a volley of oaths. 
 
 Rufus began to walk away, but was speedily 
 stopped by the strong rough hand of the tramp 
 gripping his shoulder. 
 
 " I told you I should leave you if you swore 
 again," he said. " Your tongue, I fear, friend, 
 is a dirty one, and a dirty tongue means a dirty 
 soul. But you don't care for my Bible. Well, 
 hand it me back. I should be sorry to part wi' 
 it, for it was given me by a minister who is now
 
 36 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 in heaven. But if you would have read it " 
 
 " Have you any money fc " broke in the thief 
 impatiently. " Preaching binna in my line." 
 
 " Ay, I have a threepenny-bit wi' a hole in, 
 I took out of the collection box and put a better 
 one in its place ; for I greatly dislike to see 
 anything that is not as good as it might be 
 offered to the Lord. Yet there are some folk 
 who, if they have a bent or bad coin, put it into 
 the collection as if He who formed the eye could 
 not see, and He that considers the heart could 
 not understand. And I have twopence in 
 copper and a half-sovereign that is all." 
 
 " Hand them over," said the thief. 
 
 " You are welcome to them, friend. I hope 
 you will spend them wisely, and " 
 
 " Your watch," interrupted the thief " give 
 me your watch." 
 
 11 Well," replied Rufus, " I'm a little partial 
 to it and am loath to part with it, for I've had 
 it many years ; but if you are determined to 
 have it, here you are. It is not a bad watch 
 if you allow for it gaining nigh three-quarters 
 of an hour almost every day. I put it right last 
 night, so it is three-quarters fast now ; it will 
 be an hour and a half to-morrow night, and on 
 Thursday when it is one o'clock it will be some- 
 where nigh on to a quarter to five. Take it, 
 friend, and let it remind you that, although 
 time is measured by minutes and hours, eternity 
 
 is not." 
 
 " Anything else left, eh ? Empty your 
 pockets." 
 
 " Yes," said Rufus, I've a pocket-knife with 
 one blade that won't cut and two that will ;
 
 A NONCONFORMIST BISHOP. 
 
 37 
 
 also a bunch of keys, of no use to anybody but 
 the owner. I've also a paper full of acid drops 
 for the youngsters, for I never like to pass a 
 child wi'oot givin' it something to chew. It's 
 the nature of young things to be sucking. And 
 that is all I have on me, for which I am thank- 
 ful for your sake, for the more you take the 
 heavier will be the burden when you come to 
 cross the Jordan. Now you have cleared me 
 out, let me give you a piece of advice, though 
 I fear it will be like casting sugar into the sea. 
 But I'll risk it, seeing that we arc commanded 
 to sow beside all waters. Give up this business 
 it will land you in jail here, and somewhere 
 worse than jail hereafter. You'll be heartily 
 welcome to all you've taken from me if you 
 would only promise to live an honest life 
 henceforth. Now let us pray." 
 
 Rufus took off his hat and began a prayer for 
 " this poor lost soul " who was living in open 
 defiance of the law of God and his country, but 
 when he opened his eyes the man was gone. 
 
 The next morning when Rufus went into his 
 greenhouse he found all his belongings in a neat 
 little parcel, and with it a note scribbled in 
 pencil : " I'm going to take your advice and 
 chuck it. It's a pretty rotten business at the 
 best. My last theft is a rose from your garden, 
 which I shall keep in remembrance of our 
 meeting. Ta-ta. B. B. B." 
 
 " Bless the Lord," exclaimed Rufus, " this 
 is true repentance. But I wish he had stopped 
 for his breakfast. I'm glad to get the watch 
 back, but I would have given him the money as 
 a start towards an honest life,"
 
 38 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Three years afterwards Rufus received from 
 Australia a fine new lever watch wrapped in a 
 piece of paper on which there was written : 
 " What time is it by the old ticker now ? I 
 have found the pearl. B. B. B." 
 
 Though this was the most notable case of 
 conversion in his experience, yet there were 
 many others, for he preached in order to bring 
 men to spiritual decision, and was disappointed 
 unless there was some visible token that he had 
 not toiled in vain. He studied closely how to 
 arrest the careless, and it is safe to say there 
 was not an unconverted man for miles round 
 with whom he had not sought to have con- 
 versation on spiritual matters. And this was 
 done so naturally and deftly that nobody felt 
 there was any incongruity in the way in which 
 he brought in the great themes that relate to the 
 spiritual life. His religion was not merely a 
 part of the man it was himself. To him every 
 day was a Sabbath and every duty sacred. 
 The secularities of life were lifted into an at- 
 mosphere which made them holy. No youth 
 or maiden ever thought of leaving Summerton 
 without bidding Mr. Wentworth " Good-bye," 
 and each one carried away a bouquet, and 
 oftentimes a more substantial token of his 
 interest in their welfare. Those in trouble 
 naturally sought his advice ; the sick and the 
 dying sent for him to pray with them. He was 
 perfectly fearless in his advocacy of what he 
 believed to be right, and he rebuked the rich 
 for their follies as readily as the poor for their 
 sins. 
 
 Nobody had a more sincere admiration for
 
 A NONCONFORMIST BISHOP. 39 
 
 him than his brother Joe, but that did not 
 exempt him from his biting, sarcastic tongue, 
 which spared nobody. 
 
 " Our Rufe has got all the religion of the 
 family, and I've got all the original sin," he 
 once told the Vicar. " It works that way 
 sometimes. I take after the l he ' side of the 
 house, and he takes after the ' she ' side. Our 
 mother, what there was of her never more than 
 seven stones at her top weight was as good as 
 a woman can be who is tied to a man who is too 
 idle to work, and hasna' courage enough to 
 steal. He was nearly a cart load, but he was 
 far too fond of fat bacon and beer to figure as 
 much of a saint. When mother died he cleared 
 out, and left Rufe and me to go to the work- 
 house, only I ran away, and have been in most 
 parts of the world since then. I dunno how 
 it will come out at last, but it seems to me Rufe 
 started wi' ten chances to one of getting to 
 heaven as compared to me. There's something 
 not quite square about it, only I canno' quite 
 figger it out. It seems to me one of the things 
 you parsons dunno' understand is that while 
 an ounce of grace will save some men, it will 
 take a ton to lift others over the first cloud in 
 the direction of Heaven." 
 
 " Ever hear how Rufe cured Jim Hutchins 
 of 'tato stealin' ? " 
 
 11 No. Well, it happened in the long winter 
 we had ten years ago. Jim was out of work, 
 and the missus had just presented him with a 
 new baby, and I guess they hadn't much to 
 give to beggars. Rufe saw one morning that 
 his 'tato pile in the garden had been tampered
 
 40 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 with. He said nowt, but slept after that with 
 one eye open. Understand ? One neet he 
 heard the squeak of a wheelbarrow and up he 
 gets, slips his clothes on, and out of doors in 
 the time it would take a flea to jump, and there 
 sure enough was a man working like a Trojan 
 fillin' the barrow wi' 'tato's. Rufe got near 
 enuff to see that it was Jim Hutchins, and so 
 he jumps over the garden wall, and hurries to 
 the top of the hill, knowing Jim must go that 
 way home. By and bye he hears him comin' 
 and goes half way down to meet him, whistlin'. 
 
 " Stop poor sinner, stop and think, 
 Before you further go." 
 
 " f Good morning, Jim,' he says. ' You are 
 about early.' 
 
 " * No earlier than yourself,' said Jim, a bit 
 flabbergasted. 
 
 " c Oh,' says Rufe, ' I like to come out some- 
 times when all the rest of the world is sleepin', 
 it helps reflection. An' then one sees strange 
 things sometimes. Bats and owls and other 
 creatures who love darkness rather than light 
 because their deeds are evil. But you've got 
 a big load there, Jim, and as I'm in no hurry to 
 get home I dunno' mind if I give you a push up 
 the hill." 
 
 Jim tried to make all sorts of excuses, but 
 Rufe was between the shafts of the barrow in 
 a twinkling, and he trundled it right to Jim's 
 door. 
 
 " ' These seem nice pertatoes, Jim,' he said, 
 picking one up and examining it in the moon- 
 light. ' Sherry-blues, eh ? Well, the next time
 
 A NONCONFORMIST BISHOP. 41 
 
 thou wants a few 'taters, Jim, begin at the other 
 end of the pile, and thou will find " flukes." 
 They bile better than "skerries" and are 
 mealier. Good neet, Jim, and gi' my regards 
 to the missus.' Next morning a little lad called 
 at Jim's with three pounds of bacon and a note 
 ( Would he please accept this wi' Rufe's com- 
 pliments, as 'tatoes wi'oot bacon are poor 
 feedin'." 
 
 " It fetched Jim, that did. He was at 
 Rufe's house in haaf an hour wi' tears in his 
 eyes and made a clean breast of it. I dunno 
 what Rufe said to him, but he joined the 
 Methodies, and somebody (whose initials were, 
 I think, ' R. W.') helped him to buy a hoss and 
 cart, and he did well, did Jim, and is now living 
 on his own little farm. Funny chap is Rufe. 
 His way binna mine, but you see he's a can- 
 didate for a front place in the choir up yonder, 
 while I'm thinkin' of applying for the position 
 of gatekeeper, so that if I get tired of the music 
 I can slip out and see how they are gettin' on 
 at the other place."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 THE COMING OF THE CHILD. 
 
 " An infant crying in the night, 
 An infant crying for the light, 
 And with no language but a cry." 
 
 TENNYSON. 
 
 IT was nineteen years since that memorable 
 morning in June when Rufus Wentworth re- 
 ceived the unexpected present of a baby girl. 
 He had risen very early to cut flowers for the 
 market, and he found it sleeping as cosily as a 
 bird in its nest inside the tool shed. A bundle 
 of sweet hay had been spread in his garden 
 wheelbarrow and the child lay on the top, 
 wrapped in a Paisley shawl, and dressed in a 
 simple gown of spotless white linen, tied at the 
 shoulders with blue ribbons. A piece of paper 
 was pinned to its dress on which there was the 
 one word " Gwendoline." That was all. 
 
 Rufus gazed at the amazing sight for a little 
 while, and then hurried into the house and called 
 his wife. 
 
 " Get up, lass," he cried, " the angels have 
 been in the garden and have left one of their 
 number behind." 
 
 To Lucy Wentworth it had been a silent 
 sorrow that hers was a childless home. She 
 had a passionate love for children, and the
 
 THE COMING OF THE CHILD. 43 
 
 hunger of motherhood leapt into her eyes when- 
 ever she sat in the chapel and saw other women 
 bringing their babies to be baptized. As for 
 Rufus, children gathered round him as bees do 
 around a honey pot. His pockets were apt to 
 get sticky with humbugs and other sweetmeats 
 he carried about with him. 
 
 The worthy couple stood looking at the un- 
 conscious little one in silence for a few moments, 
 and then Lucy stooped down and gently kissed 
 the child. For a week unavailing inquiries 
 were made in all directions with a view to 
 finding out how the child came into the garden 
 and to whom it belonged. But by that time 
 the little one had crept into the heart of the 
 foster mother in such a way that a dread stole 
 over her lest the child should be taken away ; 
 a fear that someone should come and claim it. 
 At the end of a month Rufus declared that if 
 by any chance the child should be taken away 
 it would break his wife's heart. He would 
 sometimes wake up in the night to find her 
 clutching the helpless little mite tightly to her, 
 as if her very dreams were haunted by the 
 thought of separation. But months passed 
 and gradually the startled look died from her 
 eyes whenever a stranger presented himself at 
 the gate. 
 
 And so the child grew and they called her by 
 the name on her dress, and she never knew but 
 what Rufus and Lucy were her father and 
 mother. An attractive child, she developed 
 into a beautiful maiden, who turned the heads 
 of all the village youths, and on the authority 
 of Rufus she was as good as she was beautiful.
 
 44 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Nature had been liberal in her gifts, and along 
 with a winsome personality she possessed a 
 very good soprano voice of unusual sweetness 
 and compass. The dream of her life was to be 
 a great singer ; a career Rufus dreaded for her 
 because of its accompanying temptations. But 
 she was in great demand for concerts and enter- 
 tainments, and always was sure of an enthusiastic 
 reception and a vigorous encore. The latter, 
 Joe (Uncle Joe, as she always called him) always 
 took credit for. " They would never have 
 called you back but for me," he would say. " I 
 led the clappin' and stampin', and they couldna' 
 for shame but follow. I have seldom heard you 
 do worse than to-neet, it was just somethin' 
 atween the skreekin' of a wheelbarrow trundle 
 and the grindin' of a circular saw. But our 
 folk like to encourage local talent, such as it 
 is. Now, if I were to sing " 
 
 " I'll never go with you any more," Gwen 
 would exclaim. " You are a crochety, con- 
 ceited, fault-finding old man, there." 
 
 " Wait till you are asked, my dear," he 
 would reply. " I make myself come just to 
 keep up the credit of the family. I dunno 
 wonder our Rufe has lost all his hair if you often 
 sing at home. There," he continued, as she 
 boxed his ears, " that comes of being a candid 
 critic. If I buttered you up, and told you that 
 Jenny Lind wasn't a bit of a piper where you 
 come, you would just be suited, and it would 
 be * Uncle Joe this, and Uncle Joe that,' and 
 kisses would be as cheap as sour apples, but 
 because I'm a truthful man I get treated wuss 
 than a wall-eyed hoss that wunno draw a bit."
 
 THE COMING OF THE CHILD. 45 
 
 But Joe would straightway have knocked 
 down the first man who said a word either against 
 Gwen or her singing. It was a pastime he kept 
 exclusively for himself. He regularly accused 
 Rufus of spoiling the lass, and the latter always 
 retorted that " if she could have been spoiled 
 Joe would have had that crime on his conscience 
 long ago." 
 
 To keep herself in pocket-money Gwen had 
 a few pupils in the farmhouses around the village 
 to whom she taught music. She was returning 
 from giving a lesson one fine afternoon, and 
 having plenty of time on her hands she perched 
 herself on a stile, and soon was engrossed in 
 reading " Ivanhoe." She was startled by a 
 manly voice, which asked " Please, miss, can 
 you tell me if I can reach Stourbridge Hall by 
 this path ? " 
 
 On looking up she at once recognised Harold 
 Wincanton standing gazing at her. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir," she said blushing 
 prettily and jumping down from her seat. " I 
 did not notice you coming across the meadow." 
 
 " It must be something very interesting," he 
 said, " that so absorbed your attention. I feel 
 I owe you an apology for having come upon the 
 scene and broken the spell." 
 
 "On the contrary, I had no right to be 
 sitting where it was possible to be an obstruc- 
 tion to the public. Yes, this is the pathway to 
 the Hall gates. You keep straight on till you 
 come to the fourth field and then take the road 
 to the left." 
 
 "Thank you," he replied. " I think we 
 have met before, have we not ? "
 
 46 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " Yes, once, about a week ago." 
 
 " Ay, yes, I remember. My mother has 
 talked of nothing since but the beauty of the 
 roses your father was kind enough to present to 
 her, and I was promising myself an early visit in 
 order to try and secure her some more." 
 
 " I am sure my father would be delighted to 
 send her some," said Gwen. " I will ask him 
 to do so." 
 
 " Pray do not trouble," he said. "I will 
 call and then I can pay him for them. 
 
 f ' Oh, dad would never think of taking money 
 for his flowers," answered Gwen. " He never 
 sells any, except those he sends to market ; and 
 he only sends when he has so many that he does 
 not know what to do with them." 
 
 " I see. He is quite a public benefactor. It 
 is surely a novel and interesting way for bene- 
 volence to find expression growing roses for 
 the public good. It is something new in the 
 way of charity, and is certainly an example 
 worth imitating." 
 
 " Oh, Dad is nothing if not original," replied 
 Gwen. 
 
 " That furnishes another reason why I should 
 call, for since I have been down here the people 
 have seemed to me to be as much alike as 
 Egyptian babes, and the roads so resemble one 
 another that it seemed hardly to matter which 
 way one goes. It would be a little refreshing 
 to light upon something original." 
 
 " I fear you have not much love for the 
 country, sir. To me every bit of the landscape 
 has its own charm, and I think the scenery 
 around Summerton is decidedly beautiful."
 
 THE COMING OF THE CHILD. 47 
 
 " Well," he replied, " I cannot truthfully say 
 that I have yet become passionately fond of it. 
 I entirely agree with Dr. Johnson, that one green 
 field is very much like another, and that London 
 is the finest city in the world." 
 
 ' ' I have never been to London, and so cannot 
 express an opinion. I do not care for large 
 towns and crowds of people. But I am detain- 
 ing you, sir," she added, blushing ; ' c so I wish 
 you good-day." 
 
 " Not at all," he replied " The fact is, I find 
 time hanging so heavily on my hands that I am 
 grateful to anyone who helps me to pass an 
 hour, without wondering how I am going to get 
 through the rest part of the day." 
 
 " That is strange," said Gwen. " I think 
 the time passes so very quickly. But that 
 reminds me I have some pupils expecting me at 
 three. I must hurry off, for I never like to keep 
 them waiting." 
 
 And so, almost before he realised it, she slipped 
 past him, and was hurrying down the meadow 
 path. 
 
 He stood gazing after her for a time, and then 
 lesiurely strolled homewards, whistling a song 
 out of the latest opera. In two days he called 
 at the Rose Garden, ostensibly to get some 
 flowers for his mother, really to see Gwen. But 
 in this he was disappointed, for she had gone 
 to the Red Acres, and, instead, he had to content 
 himself with making friends with Rufus. He 
 professed he was fond of roses, flattered the old 
 man to the top of his bent, and before he left 
 promised to call again soon, and carried home 
 the most magnificent bouquet of roses he had
 
 48 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 ever seen. Truth to tell, he did not care to be 
 bothered with it, but he could not very well 
 reconcile his expression of newly-found love for 
 flowers with a refusal to take them. 
 
 11 Here, mater," he cried, when he got home, 
 " I stumbled across that queer old fellow who 
 grows roses ; he insisted on sending you a bundle 
 as big as a besom, with his regards. He's the 
 oddest old fish I ever saw ; wanted to know if 
 I was converted, and recommended me to read 
 the Bible every morning. It was too funny for 
 anything." 
 
 " Oh, how lovely ! " exclaimed her ladyship. 
 " I never saw anything more beautiful. But 
 here is something tied to it " ; and she lifted a 
 label, and read : " Blessed is he that con- 
 sidereth the poor ; the Lord shall remember 
 him in the time of trouble." 
 
 Rufus, when telling his wife of the visit, said : 
 ' ' He does not seem a bad sort, but he appeared 
 to think I was like a flounder that needs a lot 
 of butter to fry in. He laid it on with a trowel. 
 His tongue seems to be lubricated wi' sweet oil. 
 I might have been a young lady to whom he was 
 goin' to propose marriage. 'Spect he thowt I 
 had a big bump of self-esteem. But I guess 
 I'm too old to be blown up much wi' fine words. 
 I remember an old preacher used to say, ' A 
 flatterer is second cousin to a liar.' "
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A GOOD SHEPHERD AND A 
 REFRACTORY SHEEP. 
 
 " For he had sworn x in face of God 
 And man, to deal sincerely with their souls ; 
 To preach the Gospel for the Gospel's sake, 
 Had sworn to hate and put away all pride." 
 
 POLLOCK. 
 
 THE Rev. Bedford Bird, Vicar of Summerton, 
 had but recently come to the village. His pre- 
 decessor, the Rev. Wilford Cross, had grossly 
 neglected his parish, made no pretensions to 
 preaching, and had no sympathy with the plain, 
 country folk to whom he had to minister. He 
 spoke of them to his friends as " clodhoppers " 
 and " chawbacons," and addressed them as 
 though he considered it an infinite condescension 
 to be troubled with them at all. He had a 
 private income derived from a brewery, and 
 not infrequently, it was said, imbibed very 
 freely of the liquor that was produced there. 
 Scandal gathered around his name, and it was 
 carried to the Bishop, who had on more than 
 one occasion been approached with a view to 
 his deposition when he suddenly died. He 
 had his good qualities was generous, kindly 
 disposed to the poor but had greatly missed 
 his vocation, and was as fit to be a parish minister 
 as Eli's sons were to be priests.
 
 So ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 But his successor was another type of man, 
 conscientious to the point of scrupulousness ; 
 a fine scholar, who had won distinction at Oxford ; 
 a Christian gentleman, and a saint. Like his 
 predecessor, he was a bachelor, and his shyness, 
 in the presence of women, was one of his peculiar 
 characteristics. " He treats every woman as 
 if she were an angel, and was afraid of rubbing 
 against her wings," wrote Miss Peck, in a con- 
 fidential letter to a friend. Jennie Brown, an 
 old woman living in a mud-house, declared that 
 when he called to see her, and she was lifting 
 the big iron pot from the fire, he insisted on 
 doing it for her, and told her she must have a 
 copper in which to boil her clothes, as it was not 
 fit for a woman to lift a big pot ; and forthwith 
 sent Jones, the bricklayer, to attend to it. Soon 
 he was known all over the parish, and his " Peace 
 be to this house," became a familiar and welcome 
 sound to the cottager. 
 
 There was no home in which sorrow came but 
 the vicar went ; no affliction but he was there 
 to comfort and help. A guileless, child-hearted 
 man, just such an one as Lazarus of Bethany, 
 whom Jesus loved. He delighted in the country, 
 the old ivy covered church, the vicarage smoth- 
 ered with flowers, all its quaint gables hidden 
 away among laburnum and hawthorn, and had 
 no higher ambition than to serve his generation 
 to the full measure of his ability, and then to 
 sleep in the quiet churchyard among the people 
 to whom he had ministered. He found the Metho- 
 dist Church aggressively vigorous, but instead 
 of girding at it as his predecessor had done, he 
 gladly recognised the good done, and welcomed
 
 A GOOD SHEPHERD. 51 
 
 his Nonconformist neighbours as allies, and 
 soon was on the best of terms with them, and 
 especially Rufus Wentworth the Methodist 
 Bishop. 
 
 " He'll do," was the remark of the latter. 
 " Mr. Cross was as narrow as a herrin's back, 
 but Mr. Bird is as wide as a twenty-acre field. 
 He admits that it will take a pretty big door 
 to let all the Methodists into heaven, but Mr. 
 Cross seemed to think there would only be one 
 or two let in as samples, and by special favour 
 of the Bishops." 
 
 " Well, Dad," said Gwen, " narrowness and 
 exclusiveness is not confined to one sect. I 
 heard Chidlow saying the other Sunday night, 
 in his prayer, ' that the Methodists were the salt 
 of the earth, and the light of the world,' and 
 when I told Uncle Joe, he said ' he thought 
 the Lord would be a bit surprised at the in- 
 formation coming from the quarter it did.' ' 
 
 " Uncle Joe's sayings are not fit for a young 
 lady to repeat," said Mrs. Wentworth. " He 
 gets more irreverent every day. He declared 
 that if the vicar is half as good as he looks there 
 is nobody fit in this parish for him to associate 
 with, except himself and Billy Bowden the 
 idiot." 
 
 Rufus laughed until he shook again, and 
 nearly choked himself. Just then a knock came 
 to the door, and a " May I come in ? " was 
 followed by the portly person of the vicar 
 himself. 
 
 * ' Ay, come in, sir," said Rufus, blushing like 
 a child caught in the act of some petty theft, as 
 he tried to straighten his countenance. " Here,
 
 52 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Gwen, reach the vicar a chair. We are all 
 Methodists at this house, as I daresay you 
 know, but we are right glad to see you. This is 
 my wife, the youngest and bonniest woman in 
 the county for her age, who manages me ; and 
 this is Gwen who manages both of us." 
 
 " For shame, father," exclaimed Mrs. Went- 
 worth. 
 
 " It's true as the Gospel," chuckled Rufus. 
 " Well, sir, and how do you like the parish ? " 
 
 " I like the vicarage very much, and the 
 people still better, sir," replied the vicar. " I 
 am hoping to be very happy and useful here." 
 
 " Good," exclaimed Rufus. " It's a pretty 
 corner of the Lord's vineyard. I'll not deny 
 that there's nettles and weeds here and there, 
 but the soil's good, only, if you will allow me 
 to say, a bit neglected. Mr. Cross didn't take 
 kindly to country ways and country folk, and 
 so our people have grown rather slack and 
 careless, especially the young uns." 
 
 " If all I hear is true," replied the vicar, 
 " that is not your fault, Mr. Wentworth, for 
 wherever I go I hear of your visiting the sick, 
 and warning the careless." 
 
 " Why," said Rufus, " somebody had to 
 look after the sheep, when the shepherd forgot 
 'em, and so I did my best. But I'm glad that 
 you've come to take the responsibility off my 
 shoulders." 
 
 " May I hope, Mr. Wentworth, that there 
 will be no slackening of interest on your part. 
 If so, the parish stands to lose instead of gaining 
 by my presence." 
 
 " I'll not say," said Rufus, " that I don't
 
 A GOOD SHEPHERD. 53 
 
 like the work. My brother Joe says that I'm 
 like Father Flynn 
 
 ' Checking the crazy ones, 
 Coazing the aisy ones, 
 Lifting the lazy ones 
 On wid the stick.' 
 
 Have you met with Joe yet ? " 
 
 11 I don't think I have had the pleasure. I 
 have met with so many new faces and new names 
 since I came that I cannot remember all of 
 them." 
 
 <c Then you hav'nt met Joe," laughed Rufus. 
 " He's as bad to forget as a hedgehog in bed 
 or a thorn in the finger. Let me advise you, 
 sir, when you do meet him to be on your guard. 
 He was the plague of the late vicar's life. It 
 isn't that he means any harm, but he likes to 
 have his joke, and sometimes other folks don't 
 see the point. When Mr. Cross first came he 
 was just starting to the hunt one mornin' when 
 one of Joe's servin' lads came up with a message 
 that he was to go down to the farm at once, as 
 one of the best servants he had ever known was 
 dying. And very reluctantly he went, as he 
 was not ashamed to own himself, but changing 
 his coat and getting his book, he started. And 
 would you believe it, sir, when he got to the 
 farm it was just one of Joe's oldest and best 
 cows that was dying. The vicar naturally 
 resented it, and I think he never forgave him, 
 and there was a constant feud between them." 
 
 " I am obliged to you for warning me," said 
 Mr. Bird, " I will be on my guard." 
 
 A week passed. On the following Monday 
 morning, as the vicar was strolling through the
 
 54 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 fields, he met a peculiar looking, little man, 
 whose sharp features and dome-like head he had 
 noticed at church on two Sunday mornings. 
 
 " Good morning, vicar," he said. " That 
 was a fine sermon you preached yesterday 
 morning." 
 
 " Good morning, sir," replied the vicar. " I 
 thank you for your appreciation." 
 
 " Double distilled Mother Winslow's soothing 
 syrup couldn't touch it," said Joe (for it was 
 he). " I could see ten folks asleep before you 
 had been talking five minutes ; and though it 
 is years since I slept under a sermon myself, 
 I was three-parts gone when you said ' Amen,' 
 and another five minutes I should have been 
 off. Now, our Rufe, when he preaches, just 
 fixes you down to listen, and he keeps both ears 
 busy for half an hour. There are times when 
 he makes the scalp rise, and others when he 
 makes the tears come, like as if you were a 
 babby, and the man won't let you have a bit 
 of rest. It kind of makes you fidgety for a week, 
 like yeast bubbling up ; but your sermons, sir, 
 are like a drink of whey on a June day." 
 
 " I am not sure whether you wish to com- 
 pliment me or not," replied the vicar. " But 
 surely not so many were asleep as you state." 
 
 " More," said Joe. " You can't see behind 
 the pillars, and in the left transept, but I can. 
 Could give you the names, but it wouldn't be 
 fair." 
 
 " You are Mr. Rufus Wentworth's brother, 
 I think," said the vicar. 
 
 "Think again," rejoined Joe, "and you'll 
 be wrong. I'm proud of Rufe, sir. He's a
 
 A GOOD SHEPHERD. 55 
 
 striking example of what a good bringing up he 
 has had. I brought up Rufe myself." 
 
 " But he is surely older than you," replied 
 the vicar. " I should say you were ten years 
 his junior." 
 
 " Only four," replied Joe. " See what good 
 temper with fresh air will do for a man. I can 
 eat four meals a day, jump a gate if it is low 
 enough, and there is our Rufus, who is a saint, 
 can't comb his own hair." 
 
 " Why," said the vicar, surprised, " he 
 seemed vigorous enough when I saw him last 
 week." 
 
 " Ay ! " said Joe, " he does look so, but its 
 awfully sad, and as true as the Gospel, he can't 
 comb his own hair. You ask him when you 
 visit him again. Ta ! Ta ! I must be going. 
 Busy time just now for farmers. Come and 
 see me when we get the push over. I'm not 
 exactly one of your parishioners, except that 
 I have a field or two, for which I have to pay 
 an abominable amount of tithe, in Summerton ; 
 but I'll be glad to give you a bit of bread and 
 cheese and a drink of buttermilk. I never give 
 parsons anything stronger. Rufe says its 
 dangerous, as they are apt to get Timothy's 
 complaint of a weak stomach, and once they've 
 that they drink like a fish. Good morning, sir." 
 
 " Good morning," replied the vicar stiffly. 
 He had met with many men before, but none 
 like Joe Wentworth, and he did not know what 
 to make of him. 
 
 He had walked a few yards, when he was 
 hailed by a loud "Hallo!" from Joe. He 
 turned, and the farmer shouted : ' ' Just occurred
 
 56 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 to me, I wouldn't ask Rufe about combin' his 
 hair if I were you. His women folks are a bit 
 tender about it. The reason he can't comb it 
 is that he hain't got any." 
 
 The vicar stood gazing, with an expression 
 on his face in which many emotions mingled. 
 He felt a bit foolish, accustomed as he was to 
 deference and respect, both on his own account 
 and on account of his office. It was a new 
 experience to find a man who had no regard 
 for either the one or the other. The farmer 
 went away chuckling to himself. " I guess 
 he's glad about those fifty yards, that makes 
 the vicar of Stourbridge responsible for this 
 lost sheep," he muttered. " He seems a good 
 sort, and one after Rufe's own heart. Between 
 the pair of them, the devil won't get a look in 
 at Summerton. Guess it will soon be too good 
 for a poor sinner like me to visit it often. When 
 a place becomes very religious it ceases to be 
 interesting. Saints don't make much news- 
 paper copy. Old Tim the poacher, has been 
 oftener in the paper than half the folks that go 
 to church or chapel either. I must ask Rufe 
 how it is. Seems to me that on that principle 
 it's not heaven but t'other place where there 
 will be the liveliest doings." 
 
 This was the first of many interviews Joe 
 had with the vicar. Truth to tell he had con- 
 ceived a great liking for the grave, stately clergy- 
 man and was seen oftener at church than he 
 had been for years, but he would not " let 
 on," as he put it, and was a thorn in the flesh 
 to the good man, who could not understand 
 how anyone could be reverent one moment and
 
 A GOOD SHEPHERD. 
 
 57 
 
 flippant the next ; breaking jests over sacred 
 things and uttering the most outrageous opinions. 
 He was often greatly offended at some profane 
 joke, or coarse witticism, of the farmer's, who 
 was never more delighted than when he was 
 " baiting the parson," and then at other times 
 he was amazed at the practical wisdom and 
 shrewdness of his remarks. 
 
 " Vicar," he said one day, " why dunno you 
 provide something for the men and lads at 
 neet ? In towns there is plenty goin' on, but 
 here in the winter time there's nowt but the 
 public house and the street, 'cept for those who 
 go to chapel, where they run something most 
 neets : Band of Hope, Good Templars, prayer 
 meetings, class meetings, preachin', tea fights, 
 and coffee and bun tuck-outs. They're always 
 at it. They dunno give the devil a chance. I 
 tell Rufe they're regular sweaters, and if they 
 can do nothin' else they start revival meetin's, 
 and bring a long-haired man, or a short-haired 
 woman, to keep things lively. I guess if any 
 of them miss their way to Canaan's fair and 
 happy shore they will catch it pretty hot down 
 below. But at the church it's just Sunday and 
 nothin' more." 
 
 " I think you're right, Mr. Wentworth," 
 owned the vicar, " I must think about it." 
 
 " Reet," said Joe, " and if a five pound note 
 stands in the way call at the Red Acres, and 
 maybe I'll be able to put an extra tenner on a 
 hoss and spare half of it." 
 
 " Do you mean betting ? " asked the vicar, 
 aghast at the idea of obtaining money by such 
 means.
 
 58 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 11 Why not ? " asked the imperturbable 
 farmer, who really meant nothing of the sort. 
 " The world is like music, full of flats and sharps, 
 and it is the business of the sharps to get all 
 they can out of the flats. I'm a sharp myself, 
 and you, well, I'm not sure. Perhaps you are 
 both." 
 
 " I will take no money that is not honestly 
 earned," replied the Vicar. " I think betting 
 is one of the worst evils that afflicts our modern 
 life. I'm sorry to hear you indulge in it, Mr. 
 Wentworth. 
 
 " I didn't say so," replied Joe, who, as a 
 matter of fact, never did. " I simply asked a 
 question, and you jumped down my throat 
 before the words were out of my mouth. But 
 to come back again to what we were speaking 
 about. That is not the only reform that is 
 needed in this parish. The youngsters need 
 handlin', for they are as brazen-faced and im- 
 pudent a set as you will find within a hundred 
 miles. It all comes of the wimin gossiping too 
 much." 
 
 " I'm afraid that it is a habit that is ineradic- 
 able," replied the vicar, with a smile. 
 
 " Maybe, but you can begin with the young- 
 sters. If I want a good flock of sheep I pay 
 special attention to the lambs. Up there in the 
 schoolhouse they are teachin' them all sorts 
 of nonsense that binna worth headroom, such 
 as how far it is to the moon, as if anybody wanted 
 to go there for a holiday. And they learn what 
 sort of man King George III. was, or at least 
 what the writers say, for nobody ever tells the 
 truth about kings. It wouldna' do, for some
 
 A GOOD SHEPHERD. 59 
 
 of 'em were poor stuff to make men of. But 
 they dunno teach them that it's a pretty measly 
 thing for a big lad to let his old mother dig the 
 'tatoes for dinner while he plays hopscotch, and 
 the girls that their best manners ought to be 
 kept at home, and not just brought out for the 
 special benefit of the gentry." 
 
 The result of this conversation was that a 
 village reading room and library were com- 
 menced, and Joe contributed ten pounds towards 
 it, on a promise from the vicar that nobody 
 should know. 
 
 To his brother, who warmly approved of the 
 vicar's venture, he strongly depreciated the 
 scheme, and declared it was doomed to fail. 
 But when the vicar in his opening speech said 
 that the village owed the conception of the 
 idea to Mr. Joseph Wentworth, Joe, who was 
 hanging on the edge of the crowd dropped his 
 head and bolted, exclaiming " that parsons 
 and women ought never to know anything 
 that was not printed in the papers," and for a 
 whole month he was not seen in the village.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 THE LAND AND THE LADY. 
 
 " Why did she love him ? Curious fool be still, 
 Is human love the growth of human will ? " 
 
 UNDER Lord Forrester some of the worst 
 features of English landlordism had found ex- 
 pression. He was utterly careless as to the 
 comfort or the well-being of his tenantry, so 
 long as his rent was forthcoming. There were, 
 however, occasions when he had generous fits, 
 and he would spend freely while they lasted. 
 But, on the whole, a more neglected estate it 
 would have been very difficult to find. When 
 Lady Wincanton bought it, the farmers and 
 cottagers fondly hoped to obtain better con- 
 ditions, but they were doomed to disappoint- 
 ment. At first she met them with smiles and 
 fair promises, but when they became im- 
 portunate for her to fulfil the latter, they found 
 that she had no mind thereto. " If they didn't 
 like it, they could leave it," was the satisfaction 
 they received when they complained. 
 
 And not only were their complaints unheeded, 
 but in every possible case rents were raised, 
 and every opportunity was taken advantage 
 to make the estate yield the last possible 
 penny. Some left, but others who had all their 
 little capital invested in their farms preferred 
 to submit to every new imposition, with a bitter
 
 THE LAND AND THE LADY. 61 
 
 sense of social wrong in their hearts, rather than 
 face ruin. The situation was gloomily discussed 
 at each returning market day, but with little 
 satisfaction to those concerned. Twice a depu- 
 tation waited upon Lady Wincanton's agent, 
 Mr. Dyson, who expressed his personal sympathy 
 with the sufferers and his hopelessness of doing 
 anything to better their condition. Being a 
 man of conscience, he at length resigned, after 
 a stormy scene with Lady Wincanton, when he 
 frankly refused to add additional weight to an 
 already over-burdened tenant. 
 
 " The land is poor, and lies for the most part 
 close to the coppice, and more than half the 
 produce is devoured by the game," he said. 
 " Whitby has already lost a few hundreds on the 
 place, and cannot hold out much longer." 
 
 " Harold informs me there are fruit trees 
 enough on the place to pay the rent," she replied, 
 " and that, properly tilled, the land would 
 produce half as much again." 
 
 " That is not so, your ladyship. Whitby 
 is a good practical farmer, sober and industrious, 
 and the place is rented now beyond its worth." 
 
 " I sometimes think, Dyson, you hold a brief 
 for the tenants," she answered, " and 
 
 * ' I hope your ladyship does not think that " 
 
 " Oh ! " broke in Lady Wincanton, " I have 
 long since learned that every man has his price, 
 and that the only way to safeguard one's in- 
 terests is to look after them oneself." 
 
 * ' Which your ladyship shall certainly 
 do for me," replied the agent. " I have 
 endeavoured to discharge my duties faithfully, 
 but there are limits beyond which I am not
 
 62 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 prepared to go. And if you will permit me to 
 say so, there are also limits to what landowners 
 ought to do and tenants to suffer." 
 
 " When I require your advice, sir, I will ask 
 for it. In the meantime you will kindly com- 
 plete all your arrangements as speedily as 
 possible, and your salary shall be ready for 
 you." 
 
 The agent bowed stiffly and did not reply. 
 
 " I presume you have served notice to quit 
 on the Bremners ? " 
 
 " Yes, your ladyship." 
 
 ' ' And what did they say ? " 
 
 " Something I cannot repeat in a lady's ears. 
 My opinion is that you would do well to leave 
 them alone." 
 
 ' ' Your opinion, sir, shall be sought when it is 
 needed. Perhaps you can translate into proper 
 English what they did say of me." 
 
 Again the agent bowed, and there was a strange 
 light in his eyes. 
 
 " Well, Madam," he replied, " they declared 
 they would burn the place down sooner than 
 you should have it, and made ugly threats of 
 personal violence, and it is my duty to inform 
 you I fear they will endeavour to carry their 
 intentions into execution if driven to extremities. 
 They are a wild, fierce lot, and I would not be 
 the man to evict them for the wealth of three 
 counties." 
 
 " Pooh ! Cowards are easily frightened." 
 
 The agent drew himself up as though he had 
 received a blow in the face with a whip. 
 
 " The conventions of Society," he said, " allow 
 your sex the privilege of insulting mine, and
 
 THE LAND AND THE LADY. 63 
 
 there is no redress but to endure. I can at 
 least protect myself from further annoyance by 
 retiring, which I will do at once, simply adding 
 that by Saturday I shall be able to leave your 
 Ladyship's employ." 
 
 " I'm not sorry he's going," she said, when 
 informing Harold of what had taken place. 
 " He's a meddling fellow, and seems to think it 
 part of his duty to act as my Father Confessor 
 and Spiritual Adviser." 
 
 " I am not sure whether his advice about 
 the Bremners is not good, Egad ! They strike 
 me as a scabby lot," responded Harold, " and 
 they seem to hobnob with all the scamps, tramps, 
 and rabble of the county." 
 
 " The more reason why we should get rid 
 of them. Slater tells me they haven't the 
 slightest right to the land. They came there 
 nearly twenty years ago, and pitched a tent, 
 and commenced to make besoms. Then they 
 built a hut, and now they have erected a home- 
 stead. I wonder Lord Forrester allowed it. 
 But if he was blind to his own interests, I am 
 not blind to mine." 
 
 " Right, mother mine," rejoined her son. 
 " It is a crime your worst enemy would not bring 
 against you. But you remember the old saying 
 c Those who handle thistles should wear thick 
 gloves.' ' 
 
 ' ' Nevertheless, I shall instruct Slater to have 
 them ejected at the expiration of the term. I 
 have also ordered him to inquire into the terms 
 of the Red Acres Farm. I think the rental is 
 far too low." 
 
 " Humph," replied Harold, who had his
 
 64 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 reasons for not wishing to disturb Joe Went- 
 worth. " It seems to me, mother, that you 
 bother yourself about details which might well 
 be left to your subordinates." 
 
 " Yes, and be robbed on all sides," she 
 replied. " If I had a son who took an interest 
 in anything beyond the gratification of his own 
 whims, I might be spared the worry and anxiety. 
 As it is, I must keep my hand on things myself." 
 
 " You are hard to please, mother. When 
 I advise you, as in the case of the Bremners, 
 you prefer the counsel of Slater, and if I don't 
 advise you at all you accuse me of indifference. 
 Now, in relation to the Red Acres, I have this 
 to say, that Mr. Wentworth was only complain- 
 ing to me the other day of the high rent he had 
 to pay and the impossibility of making ends 
 meet. If you attempt to raise the rent, you 
 will have the farm on your hands." 
 
 " Oh ! I'm getting sick of the parrot cry 
 that they must give in their notice. None of 
 them ever do. It is my firm conviction that 
 if we let them have their farms for nothing they 
 would ask for seed to sow them with." 
 
 " Perhaps so," replied Harold. " But Went- 
 worth is not of that sort. Do you know that 
 when I wanted to buy a hunter from him, he 
 refused to sell it because he was not sure that 
 it was sound ? " 
 
 " I don't like the man. He is as conceited 
 as he is tall," replied the mother, " and Slater 
 agrees with me that the Red Acres is under- 
 rented." 
 
 " I believe if you were to say the moon was 
 nothing but a luminous custard, Slater would
 
 THE LAND AND THE LADY. 65 
 
 be of your opinion. I have observed that his 
 views always coincide with yours. I prefer 
 Dyson myself, for you know, at least, you are 
 getting an honest opinion from him. But I am 
 going down to Summerton. Have you any 
 messages ? " 
 
 " You go down to Summejrton very often, 
 Harold." 
 
 " Because there is nowhere else to go in this 
 out-of-the-way hole. The choice is so limited 
 that one is saved the difficulty of a decision. It 
 is either the devil or the deep sea." 
 
 " You are not very complimentary I wish 
 you would take some interest in the estate, or 
 in politics, or something serious." 
 
 11 All right, mother mine. A fellow must sow 
 his wild oats, you know." 
 
 " It seems rather an expensive crop, though, 
 Harold, and the worst is that I have to help you 
 pay for it. Here are bills that total up to " 
 
 ' ' Oh ! please spare me, mother," broke in 
 Harold, " I'm not in a mood for either duns or 
 debts. So farewell," and, lightly throwing her 
 a kiss, he disappeared. 
 
 Lady Wincanton sat with a frown on her face 
 for an hour, engaged in that most enervating 
 of all pastimes, pitying herself. She was rich 
 and beautiful for a woman of her years, and yet 
 unhappy. 
 
 Quite an hour passed ere she rang the bell for 
 her maid. 
 
 ' ' Adele, I want you to get me all the informa- 
 tion," she said, " about a Miss Wentworth who 
 lives at Summerton. She is, I understand, a 
 music teacher, and lives with an old man, who
 
 66 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 passes for her father, and who owns a large 
 rose garden." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," replied the maid. " I think 
 I know her. She sang at a concert I attended 
 last week, and she has a lovely voice." 
 
 11 I've heard something to that effect," re- 
 plied the mistress, " and I am interested in 
 her. But you will, of course, be careful not 
 to raise any suspicion that you are seeking 
 information. Your reward will be according 
 to the value of the information you obtain, and 
 I know I can trust you." 
 
 And so it came about that Adele was very 
 frequently seen in Summerton on one errand 
 or another. She quietly made friends with the 
 simple-minded country people, who were greatly 
 charmed by her graciousness and condescension. 
 Soon she learned all that was known in the 
 village itself about Gwen, which, truth, to tell, 
 was nothing more than could be said about any 
 other talented village maiden. She was re- 
 garded by some as being proud and cold, and 
 this was the worst the most slanderous tongue 
 could say ; but, generally speaking, she was a 
 favourite in the village. 
 
 But the maid was shrewd enough to under- 
 stand that her mistress was not so eager to 
 learn of the excellencies of Miss Wentworth as 
 of her defects, and so she coloured her reports 
 to suit the taste of her employer. It soon came 
 to her ears that Harold Wincanton had been 
 seen, on more than one occasion, walking home 
 with Gwen, and that it was common rumour 
 in the village that they were engaged. This 
 report greatly annoyed his mother, and she
 
 THE LAND AND THE LADY. 67 
 
 began seriously to consider how she might put 
 an end to what might terminate in a mh-alliance 
 for her son. 
 
 Having nothing to do in the country, Harold 
 spent his time in lounging, betting, and picking 
 up many undesirable acquaintances. His love 
 of horses took him often to the Red Acres, and 
 soon he was owing Joe Wentworth a consider- 
 able sum of money. To fancy a horse was to 
 buy it, and, finding Joe was easy about payment, 
 he did not trouble either to offer a second price 
 or to put any check on his desire for possession. 
 
 To say that Gwen had fallen in love with him 
 would hardly be true, but certainly he had a 
 charm for her that no other young man she had 
 met ever had. Her opportunities of meeting 
 with young men of culture and education had 
 been few and far between ; and although Harold 
 Wincanton was neither cultured, nor educated, 
 in the truest sense of the word, yet there was 
 a certain vein of refinement and gentility that 
 was lacking in the youths of the village. She 
 knew but little of the big world, and of the 
 temptations, shams, and hollow pretensions 
 which are so often hidden under the garb of 
 sincerity and friendship. 
 
 The character of a young man like Harold, 
 who prided himself on the very qualities which 
 ought to have been his shame, had never come 
 within the region of her observation or experience. 
 Had she known the truth, she would have shrunk 
 from his touch. But the innocence of ignorance 
 was both a protection and a danger. 
 
 For his part, Gwen had an influence over him 
 very different from that of any woman of his
 
 68 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 acquaintance. He began to yearn for her 
 companionship, and his visits, few at first, 
 became very frequent. Strange to say, Rufus 
 and his wife were the last to suspect what was 
 the real purpose of his calls. With a good deal 
 of shrewd sense, Rufus was simple-hearted as 
 a child in some things, and gave everybody credit 
 for an honesty and sincerity of purpose that 
 was not warranted by facts, so that when Harold 
 came and informed him that he was going to 
 make a rosary at the Hall, and sought his advice 
 about the situation, the kind of stocks, budding, 
 grafting, and a hundred other matters, he took 
 it for granted that this was the chief, if not the 
 only, purpose of his visits. Rufus used the 
 opportunity of saying many plain and homely 
 truths to the young man about whom there 
 were many sinister reports abroad in the hope 
 that they might do him good, and he did not 
 fail also to urge him to use his influence with 
 his mother to redress the wrongs of their over- 
 burdened tenantry. Harold received all these 
 moral lectures in good part, and recounted them 
 amidst great hilarity, with clever mimicry of 
 manner and voice, to a chosen set of friends, 
 who met thrice a week at the Conservative Club 
 at Whitehurst. If Rufus could have been 
 present at one or two of these gatherings he 
 would have learnt much. 
 
 16 Our Rufe can see the smallest green fly 
 on a rose," said Joe, " but he's as blind as a 
 moudiwarp in some things. He believes every 
 young man is a Joseph and every young woman 
 is a Ruth. He thinks that the saints fill the 
 earth, wi' just a blackguard here and there to
 
 THE LAND AND THE LADY. 69 
 
 give variety. A month in the hoss trade would 
 open his eyes." 
 
 When Rufus repeated a conversation he had 
 with Harold, in which he thought the young 
 man showed signs of grace, to his brother, Joe 
 said, " Rufe, did'st thou ever hear how Billy 
 Sowerby tried to wash his sow ? " 
 
 "No," said Rufus. 
 
 " Well, Billy's brain machinery had a screw 
 loose and he had a sow wi' big black spots, and 
 Billy got the idea that she would sell better 
 wi'oot the spots than wi' them. And some 
 jokers persuaded him to buy half a crown's 
 worth of scented soap and wash the sow wi' it. 
 And so he did." 
 
 " Well, what happened ? " asked Rufus, with 
 a smile. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Joe, " he wasted the soap and 
 the sow caught cold and died."
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 THE RED ACRES. 
 
 ' ' There is a Heaven and an earth in every man ; first in his 
 nature, then in his practice." PHILIPS BROOKS. 
 
 THE Red Acres was two miles from the village 
 of Summerton, and was just over the boundary 
 line of the adjoining parish of Stourbridge. Its 
 master, Joe Wentworth, was the best farmer 
 for miles around, and was not only proud of his 
 farm, but made every man servant and maid 
 about the place proud of it as well. He was 
 irascible, easily angered, and sometimes lost 
 control not only of his temper but of himself, 
 and, then, woe to those who happened to cross 
 his path. But withal, he was a good master ; 
 paid his servants well, and fed them better 
 than any other farmer in the district. Most of 
 them had been with him for years, but there 
 was not one amongst them who could not boast 
 of having been dismissed three or four times at 
 least, in some fit of spleen. Bill, the waggoner, 
 said he had received his notice nine times, but 
 added, * ' It generally ends in the maister buying 
 me a present or thrusting a crown into my hand, 
 and neither of us say anything more about it. 
 He binna a bad sort, the boss, but I like to be 
 three fields off when he gets into one of his 
 tantrums. My stars, I shall never forget the 
 floggin' he gave young Griffiths when he caught
 
 THE RED ACRES. 71 
 
 him mis-using a young hoss. I thowt he would 
 kill him and nothin' less, and I know he carries 
 the marks to this day." 
 
 Joe not only farmed with success, but he was 
 a horse dealer as well, and it was in the latter 
 capacity that he was best known. Dealing 
 principally in race horses and hunters he was 
 known to the gentry for many miles round. He 
 loved horses, as well as his brother loved roses ; 
 and was held the best judge of horse flesh in four 
 counties. Many strange tales were told of his 
 bargaining ; some doubtless deriving an element 
 of exaggeration from being passed from mouth 
 to mouth, and some of which were not greatly 
 to his credit. Rufus would occasionally take 
 him to task, when fresh reports reached him 
 of Joe fleecing a young lordling or squire, who 
 tried to beat him at bargain making, but Joe 
 would only grin ; admit everything, and make 
 the story appear ten times worse than it was, 
 and end with a humorous pretence of penitence, 
 or else would try to shock his brother by an 
 outrageous attempt at justification. 
 
 It was generally admitted that Joe dealt 
 straight and square with all those who trusted 
 him, and there was hardly a farmer in the 
 neighbourhood who thought of buying a horse 
 without first getting * * Wentworth's opinion 
 of him." 
 
 " I inherited the gift from my father," he 
 would sometimes say, " and it was the only 
 thing I got from him worth having. He had 
 lived among the gipsies and picked up a few 
 things, and one was to know a hoss when he 
 
 saw one,"
 
 72 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Joe was never tired of talking of his farm 
 and his stock. " There are some hosses that 
 need the shafts to keep 'em up, poor things. 
 Mine never want to stop and lean their heads 
 against a tree and wonder if there will be a feed. 
 I put the whip into the manger see." 
 
 " I never clem (hunger) anything, for if a 
 beast isn't worth feedin', it isn't worth keepin'. 
 That's what I told the vicar of Whitehurst about 
 the curate, when he complained that he couldna 
 get one to satisfy him. I said ' You dunno put 
 enough in the manger. Eighty pounds a year 
 to be everybody's lackey, and to dress like a 
 gentleman, and to cut a figger at bun fights 
 binna quite a fattening salary. Let me see, 
 it's nine hundred you get, isn't it ? and for 
 every sermon you preach he preaches three, 
 and the quality's better ; and for every time 
 the poor folks see you he visits them half a 
 dozen times. To a layman, it dunno square 
 very well with the text, " Do as ye would be 
 done by," tho' I've no doubt that you could 
 explain it in Greek.' ' 
 
 " But," said Joe, when telling the story, 
 " he took the huff, and for six months would 
 not look the side of the street I was on. I'm 
 always gettin' into hot water for talkin' 
 common-sense, because so few folks ever do. 
 But I like to make the big uns wince a bit. It 
 makes life worth livin'. The only one that I 
 canna' get waxy is our Rufe, and it's not for 
 the want of tryin'. Rufus' temper [is under 
 lock and key, and the key is lost." 
 
 It was this childish delight in disturbing the 
 equanimity of others that made him the most
 
 THE RED ACRES. 
 
 73 
 
 feared, and the most hated man on the country 
 side, especially by those whom he designated 
 " the upper ten." The very mention of his 
 name in certain circles would cause a shrug of 
 shoulders, and his extravagant exploits formed 
 the staple conversation at society dinners. 
 At the weekly market at Whitehurst he was 
 always the centre of a laughing circle, especially 
 of young farmers, who enjoyed his chaff and 
 practical jokes. 
 
 The story went round of how he had treated 
 Billy Stroud, a drunken profligate, who went 
 hanging about Red Acres farm courting one of 
 the servant girls. Joe caught him in the orchard 
 one evening, and ordered him off. 
 
 " I'll have no courtin' o' my girls," he said, 
 " wi'oot my permission, and you are not the 
 kind that will get any one of them. So put that 
 in your pipe and smoke it." 
 
 " She binna your daughter, anyway," sulkily 
 replied Bill. " I reckon she can do as she 
 likes." 
 
 ' ' Oh, that's your tack is it ? " said Joe. 
 " Well, Sarah and I have had a bit of a chat, 
 and she says she isn't in the market at your 
 price." 
 
 ' ' I'm as good as she is anyhow. Her mother's 
 on the parish," answered Bill. " So she need 
 not give herself any proud airs." 
 
 " Look here," cried Joe, " I'll tell you what 
 you are a great hulking, idle, good-for-nothin'. 
 You've a good cheek to think that any decent 
 woman is goin' to hitch on with you. Want 
 somebody to keep you, I suppose. Why man, 
 you wouldn't earn enough to keep a woman in
 
 74 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 hair pins. If one of them was so silly as to 
 listen to thee, she would be able to give a rest 
 to her jaw bones six days a week, and not have 
 much work for them on Sundays. Get off, or I'll 
 set the dogs on you, although there is hardly 
 one of them which would not be afraid to bite 
 you lest he got poisoned wi' dirt." 
 
 Joe's tongue cut like a whip, and even the 
 lazy ne'er-do-well felt its stings. He looked 
 as if he could slay the farmer, but at length 
 muttered something about " not being able to 
 get a job." 
 
 " I should think not," replied Joe, " unless 
 somebody who isn't very particular employed 
 thee to frighten crows off the 'taties. Take my 
 advice, lad, and give up treating that public- 
 house under your nose, and take a spell at 
 stone breaking, and sweat the devil out of ye. 
 Anyhow, I'll not have thee hangin' about after 
 the lasses on my place. Sarah's a decent lass, 
 and her mother's a widow ; and maybe, if thou 
 gets a chance, thou might persuade her to say 
 in a moment what she would repent all her 
 lifetime. Women are curious creatures, and 
 there is not one of them but what thinks she can 
 do a fine stroke of business in the direction of 
 saving the prodigal son, when he is somebody 
 else's son. As if anyone could save a man who 
 does not want to be saved. And so I am going 
 to play the part of father to the girl, and once 
 for all, I tell thee, if I catch thee here again, 
 you won't want an almanac to keep the day in 
 remembrance." 
 
 A few weeks after Joe thought he caught sight 
 of Billy hastily bidding good-bye to Sarah, as
 
 THE RED ACRES. 
 
 75 
 
 he rode in at the gate. He said nothing, but 
 announced that in all likelihood he would be 
 from home for a day or two the next week. On 
 Tuesday he went away, saying that he might 
 be back on Friday, but to everyone's surprise, 
 he turned up on Wednesday, just after dark. 
 He had hardly retired to rest when he heard a 
 low whistle just below his window. Opening it 
 cautiously he saw Bill making signals beneath 
 to someone above, where Sarah slept. He 
 dragged from under his bed a bucket of tar 
 water, and the next moment the unfortunate 
 man received it full on his head. 
 
 " There," he shouted, " I gave you full 
 warnin' something would happen if you came 
 mouchin' about my place." 
 
 Poor Bill was a long time ere he was able to 
 rid himself of this strange baptism, which 
 proved the death of his wooing so far as the 
 maid at the Red Acres was concerned. 
 
 It was harvest time, and Joe was on his way 
 to the field to help the men, when he saw some- 
 thing which made him rub his eyes. It was 
 Harold Wincanton and Gwen walking down a 
 bye-road, engaged in what appeared to be a 
 very animated conversation. Their backs were 
 towards him, but he was sure about their identity. 
 
 " Rats ! " he said, " that is a sight for a 
 blind man. Who'd have thought it ? Queenie 
 and that scamp. Here's a game of cards at 
 which I guess Joe Wentworth will have to take 
 a hand." 
 
 Joe, who had methods of his own of obtaining 
 information, had got a pretty fair record of 
 Harold's character. A spendthrift, a gambler,
 
 76 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 and an idler, Joe knew him to be, and to see 
 Gwen in his company made him very angry. 
 He watched them for a time, and then walked 
 on in brown study. " If Gwen has anything 
 to say to him," he muttered, " her troubles will 
 not be far to seek. And Rufe why it would 
 break Rufe's heart." 
 
 He made his way to a field where a number 
 of men were busy. Bill, the waggoner, who 
 knew all his master's moods, saw in a moment 
 that he was in a bad temper, and predicted there 
 would be storms. Joe stripped his coat off, and, 
 seizing a pitchfork, commenced to throw the 
 sheaves to the loader at a pace that kept him 
 busy. 
 
 " I say, Jim," he cried, at length, to one of 
 the men, " ask Sarah to put a feather-bed in 
 the waggon when thou comes for the next load. 
 Here's one of these new hands needs a rest. 
 He's short of breath, and has a don't-hurry-me 
 pain in his feet. I've been watching him for 
 half an hour, and I have been afraid he might 
 sweat. He's been mercifully preserved from 
 perspiration up to the present, but there's no 
 tellin' what might happen at lunch time. Here, 
 lazybones, " he shouted to the offender, ' ' here's 
 your wages ; I'd as soon gnaw a bone wi' a 
 broken tooth as work with a skulker." The 
 man came sulkily forward and put out his hand 
 for the money. 
 
 ' ' Ready," said Joe ; ' ' that's the quickest 
 job you've done yet. Take it, and dunno come 
 within sixty miles of the Red Acres again, for 
 idleness is infectious, and you've enuff hidden 
 about your person to smit a county."
 
 THE RED ACRES. 
 
 77 
 
 " I want my lunch," grumbled the man when 
 he got his money. 
 
 " And want will be your master, my lad. 
 Off you go, and if I never see your face agin I 
 shall not be off my victuals. I'll manage to 
 get on wi'oot takin' to drink because you are 
 not around. Now then, lads, hurry up with 
 this load, and we will knock off and have some 
 bread and cheese." A few minutes after he 
 exclaimed, " I declare, if yon is not Rufe come 
 to give us a hand. He will show some of you 
 young men how to handle a fork." 
 
 The men went to their lunch, and Joe waited 
 for his brother. 
 
 *' Thought I would come and help a bit," 
 said Rufus, after the greetings were over. 
 
 ' ' Reet," said Joe ; ' * I'll give you ninepence 
 a day and your meat. It's too much for a 
 beginner, but the weather is a bit unsettled, 
 and we are short of hands." 
 
 ' ' Why, I met one at the gate who was looking 
 as if his feelings had been hurt. Why did you 
 give him a holiday ? " 
 
 " Oh, he suffered from a disease which killed 
 a chap I knew in America. It was an indis- 
 position to do anything, aggravated by an 
 active stummack. But I say, Rufe, who do 
 you think was the biggest fool in the Bible ? " 
 
 " Dunno," said Rufe ; "I binna much of an 
 authority on fools. Daresay you will have an 
 opinion on the subject." 
 
 " Well, I guess it was either Solomon or 
 Samson, and I am inclined to give the cake to 
 the former. He was allus preaching aboot 
 wisdom, and tellin' others what a precious
 
 78 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 thing it was. Samson was like a hoss wi' the 
 blinkers on, that tumbles into a pit before he 
 knows it ; but Solomon walked into it wi' his 
 eyes open and spectacles on. It's my opinion 
 a chap that is always shoutin' how good fish is 
 ought to be above choking himself wi' the 
 bones." 
 
 " It does seem like it," replied Rufus. 
 
 " Well," said Joe, standing and looking full 
 at his brother, " mind you are not a second 
 cousin to Solomon. I guess you've done a 
 grown man's share of runnin' about the county 
 on Sundays givin' advice about bein' wise, and 
 tryin' to persuade folks you were as full of 
 understanding as a lad is full of vittals after a 
 club feast, and if you dunno mind you'll find 
 you're like a policeman I heard about away 
 North, who was watchin' his neighbours' coals 
 while the thief ran away wi' his own." 
 
 " I dunno what you're driving at," said 
 Rufus. "I'm trying to keep an eye on my own 
 vineyard while I'm helpin' my neighbours to 
 till theirs." 
 
 " Well," said Joe, " if I were you I should 
 be looking round the fences well wi' both eyes 
 open, or the best bunch of grapes may go before 
 you know it. A nod's as good as a wink to a 
 blind hoss. But come and have a crust of bread 
 and cheese. I always start new hands wi' 
 a feed." 
 
 " No," rejoined his brother, " I'll earn my 
 vittals before I eat them. Missis and I had 
 an early dinner. Gwen has gone to see a new 
 pupil." 
 
 " Ay," said Joe drily, " and a pretty
 
 THE RED ACRES. 
 
 79 
 
 promising one too, or I'm a sinner. Now I'm 
 off to my lunch. You can go on turning yon 
 barley over. The beer bottle is under the 
 big oak tree, but be careful with it, and don't 
 take too much. I don't want to find you lying 
 drunk when I come back, or I shall have to 
 report you to the next Quarterly Meeting. A 
 little in moderation is good but I shouldn't 
 like you to disgrace your family in your old 
 age." 
 
 " There is no such thing as moderation in 
 an evil thing," said Rufus, who was a strict 
 teetotaler. " It's time that farmers learnt 
 that beer is the worst possible drink for harvest 
 if they want to get the best out of their men." 
 
 " Well, it may be," replied Joe ; " but, you 
 see, we cannot afford whiskey." 
 
 ' ' Try oatmeal and water," said his brother. 
 
 " We give that to hosses," laughed Joe. 
 " You wouldn't have men drink the same stuff 
 as the gee-gees, would you ? " 
 
 " Why not ? You give horses corn, don't 
 you ? On the same principle you ought to be 
 ashamed to give bread to your men to eat. 
 Neither should you give them milk for breakfast, 
 because it feeds calves." 
 
 ** Rufe," replied Joe, " you've a wonderful 
 mind. If you only had a bit of common sense 
 you might have been a genius. You know a 
 heap o' things, but you don't know human 
 nature. If I offered my men oatmeal and water 
 they would strike. They'd rather be poisoned 
 with beer they like than have all the oatmeal 
 or milk in the world they don't like. So there 
 it is and all the preachin' in the world won't
 
 80 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 alter it. Give men what they've set their minds 
 on, right or wrong, and you'll get what you 
 want from them and vice versa. If it harms 
 them, that's their business, not yours. That's 
 my doctrine." 
 
 " And a fine devil's doctrine it is ! " exclaimed 
 R u f us . If 
 
 " Look here, Rufe Wentworth, if you are 
 goin' to take to swearin', don't begin in my 
 harvest field keep it for the pulpit. I can't 
 have you corruptin' the morals of my men. It's 
 nice language that for a bishop, ain't it ? Devil's 
 doctrine, indeed ! " 
 
 " Yes," answered Rufus, " that and nothing 
 else. You have no right to give others what is 
 wrong in order to get your own way, and you 
 know it. Talk like that does an infinite amount 
 of harm." 
 
 " Did you come to the Red Acres to turn 
 barley or to preach ? " asked Joe, seeing that 
 he was likely to get the worst of the argument. 
 " There's a time for all things, and now's the 
 time for harvesting. Go and get on with your 
 harvesting, my man, or I'll cut the ninepence 
 down to sixpence." 
 
 " And you go to lunch, and remember this 
 that every man is his brother's keeper, and is 
 answerable for putting temptation in his way," 
 replied Rufus. 
 
 " Hard lines that," shouted Joe, as he 
 shouldered his pitchfork and walked off. 
 11 Strikes me that the only safe place to keep 
 some of our brothers is in an asylum.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HE THAT REMEMBERETH THE 
 POOR. 
 
 " The secret pleasure of a generous act, 
 Is the mind's great bribe." DRYDEN. 
 
 THE village of Summerton stands in the heart 
 of as fine an agricultural district as can be found 
 in England. In the spring the hedgerows are white 
 with the hawthorn, and from thence on through 
 the summer are beautiful with dog roses, and 
 fragrant with honeysuckle. Every cottage has 
 its own garden in which grow fruit trees of 
 many varieties, plums, pears and apples : a 
 delightsome sight when in blossom, and a very 
 heartsome one when the fruit is ripe for gather- 
 ing. Upon garden and pig the cottagers at 
 the time of our story depended for their rent, 
 for the wages were low ; barely enough to 
 purchase food and clothing when there was a 
 family. 
 
 It happened that the first year after Lady 
 Wincanton came to Stourbridge Hall, a calamity 
 befell the cottagers. First a succession of black 
 frosts came when the blossom was on the trees, 
 and totally destroyed any chance of a fruit 
 crop ; then the swine fever broke out, and 
 many of the cottagers lost their pigs ; and 
 shortly after an epidemic of typhoid smote the 
 people and laid many of them low, and caused
 
 82 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 the sexton to be busier than he had ever been 
 known in the memory of the oldest inhabitant. 
 Three tirnes in one week the tolling of the bell, 
 which carried the news far and wide that another 
 mortal had passed to his long rest, was heard. 
 
 It was now that the village realised, for the 
 first time, what a gift from God their vicar was. 
 He went to every home where sorrow and loss 
 fell, carried comfort and help, and wherever he 
 went he found Rufus Wentworth had been 
 before him, for in all these little homes he saw 
 choice flowers that could only have come from 
 his garden, and greenhouse. 
 
 The winter came dark and lowering, and by 
 Christmas time many were nearly starving. 
 A fall of snow made matters worse, and the 
 outlook was sombre indeed. Mr. Bird had 
 used up his resources, and hardly knew where 
 to turn, for he was a poor man, and had been 
 too open-handed all his life to have much to 
 fall back upon in time of need. He was there- 
 fore greatly surprised and delighted when one 
 morning he found a dirty envelope in which 
 there were five bank notes, each of the value 
 of ten pounds, thrust into his letter box with 
 just the words " For the use of the poor" 
 written across the outside. The good man forth- 
 with thanked God, and hurried to tell Rufus 
 Wentworth, who in those dark times was his 
 guide, philosopher, and friend ; and the two 
 immediately set out to assist the cases of greatest 
 need. 
 
 They had just visited a widow named 
 Stephenson when they met Joe Wentworth 
 riding on his famous roan " Briton."
 
 HE REMEMBERETH THE POOR. 83 
 
 " Hallo ! " exclaimed the little man, " what's 
 in the wind this mornin' ? Is it a marriage, or 
 a funeral, or a christening ? Two ' sky pilots,' 
 church and chapel, hob-nobbing ; there is 
 some mischief afoot, or I'm a Dutchman." 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth, did you ever hear the 
 motto, ' ' Honi soit qui mal-y-pense " ? replied 
 the vicar with a smile, for he was getting accus- 
 tomed to Joe's vagaries by this time. 
 
 " No," replied the unblushing farmer, " but 
 it was sure to have something to do with money 
 if a parson quotes it. " Pense, pense," that is all 
 their cry. What are you begging for now, eh ? " 
 
 "Nothin 5 ," said Rufe. "Some good 
 Samaritan has sent the vicar ^50 to be distributed 
 amongst the poor, and we have been taking 
 Widow Stephenson a few shillings." 
 
 " Fifty pounds," exclaimed Joe, his eyebrows 
 working furtively, and lifting his hands in 
 astonishment, " fifty pounds, did you say, 
 Rufe ? " 
 
 " Ay, the Lord has touched somebody's 
 heart, and " 
 
 " I say, Vicar," broke in Joe, " you couldn't 
 lend me ten pounds, could you, for a month ? 
 You see, I'm a bit hard up, and I promise, 
 honour bright, to return it in four weeks. 
 
 " I'm very sorry, Mr. Wentworth, but you 
 see this is trust money." 
 
 " Say you won't and done with it," cried the 
 farmer. " It's the first favour I have ever 
 asked from you, and I think you might have 
 obliged me. Nobody need know anything about 
 it, and I will pay interest on it." 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth, if I had ten pounds of my
 
 84 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 own I would lend it to you with pleasure ; but 
 this money belongs to the poor, and it shall be 
 spent in harmony with the wishes of the donor. 
 What do you say, Mr. Wentworth ? " he asked, 
 turning to Rufus. 
 
 " I say," laughed Rufus, " that he has as 
 much need to borrow ten pounds as I have to 
 go begging for a crust of bread. I shouldn't 
 wonder if at this moment he has a thousand 
 pounds lying at the bank at Whitehurst doing 
 no good, but ministering to his love of getting 
 and keeping." 
 
 " Rufe Wentworth," cried his brother, " what 
 is the Fourth Commandment ? " 
 
 " Remember the Sabbath Day to keep it 
 holy," replied Rufe. 
 
 "Is it ! " exclaimed Joe. " You're wrong 
 for once, old man, It is ' Thou shalt not bear 
 false witness against thy neighbour.' Ain't it, 
 vicar ? A local preacher ought to know that." 
 
 " I am afraid I must give the verdict against 
 you," remarked the vicar, " your brother is 
 right." 
 
 " Trust parsons to hang together, but you 
 are both wrong. Do you mean to tell me I 
 don't know my catechism ? I'm surprised at 
 your ignorance. But about that ten pounds, 
 you will lend it me, won't you ? Our Rufe 
 thinks he knows a thing or two ; and so he does 
 about growing rhubarb and roses ; but I'll be 
 hanged if he knows anything about my banking 
 account." 
 
 " I'll give you fifty pounds for your balance 
 at the bank anyhow," said Rufus. 
 
 " Fie for shame," cried Joe, " tha's gambling
 
 HE REMEMBERETH THE POOR. 85 
 
 if anything ever was. Rufe, you will have 
 to go to the penitent form on Sunday night. 
 I AM surprised." 
 
 " Not nearly so surprised as I should be if 
 you had accepted my offer," said Rufus. 
 
 " Humph," cried Joe. " I would never think 
 to take advantage of my own brother. It 
 wouldn't be a Christian act, would it vicar ? 
 But you might lend a fellow in a tight corner 
 a helping hand." 
 
 " Joe," began Rufus. 
 
 " Shut up, Rufe, I'm not talking to you," said 
 his brother. 
 
 " Look here, Joe Wentworth," answered 
 Rufus, " if you don't take yourself off this 
 moment I'll tell the vicar something about you 
 that will surprise you both." 
 
 " You can't," cried Joe, " I'm an innocent, 
 unoffending parishioner, who never speaks 
 of my betters in the pulpit or out of it. Who 
 was it, Rufe Wentworth, that said that the 
 Church of England was a poor, shackle-bound 
 thing, with blind guides as priests, hankering 
 after the rags of Rome ; neither fish, flesh, nor 
 good red herrin' ? Eh ! If there's going to 
 be any lettin' cats out of the bag, I'll hold the 
 bag." 
 
 " Who was in Whitehurst yesterday, and 
 drew five ten pound notes out of the bank and 
 dropped them into the vicar's letter box in a 
 dirty envelope, scribbled across with the words 
 ' For the use of the poor, eh ? " answered Rufus. 
 " Man do you think I dunno your writin' even 
 when you try to disguise it ? " 
 
 " It's a fib, a big, unmitigated, fifty-ton-fib,
 
 86 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Rufe Wentworth. I'll never speak to you again, 
 you are a base fellow. Vicar, dunno believe 
 him ; he's daft, real down crazy. Good morn- 
 ing ! " 
 
 " Ah," laughed Rufus, as Joe vigorously dug 
 his spurs into the sides of his roan and galloped 
 off, " I knew that would send him away." 
 
 " Your brother is a strange man, Mr. Went- 
 worth," said the vicar. " And do you really 
 mean that it was he that put the fifty pounds 
 into my letter box ? " 
 
 " Ay," rejoined Rufus. " Gwen was reading 
 somewhere that when God made Shakespeare 
 he broke the mould. Well, that's true of 
 brother Joe, anyway. There never was another 
 man like him. He does more generous acts 
 than any other man I know, and always by 
 stealth. He would as soon be shot as accused 
 of doing a kindness. I shall be in his black 
 books for months to come. But I knew the 
 writing directly I saw the envelope. I would 
 have kept his secret if he had not tried to gull 
 you, sir. I shall have to send Gwen over to 
 make the peace between us." 
 
 " I must correct my estimate of him, it 
 seems," said the vicar. " To me, he has always 
 appeared as somewhat flippant, a practical 
 joker, without much heart, and sometimes 
 positively rude and offensive." 
 
 "I do not wonder," replied Rufus. " He 
 is one of the men who always appear at their 
 worst to others. He delights in shocking those 
 whom he calls his betters, and enjoys nothing 
 so much as ' baiting a parson.' But he has 
 a good heart. Take one instance. A few years
 
 HE REMEMBERETH THE POOR. 87 
 
 agcTthere was a man named Scrimshaw whose 
 farm joined on to Joe's. Well, he and Joe have 
 lived a cat and dog life for years, more like 
 heathen than Christian men. Perhaps twelve 
 years ago things went wrong with Scrimshaw, 
 he had several heavy losses, and then the rinder- 
 pest took his cattle. He had one girl, a fine 
 lassie, but she had been growing blind for years, 
 and at length she had to be led about. It was 
 a pitiful sight to see her sitting in the sunshine 
 in front of the house, helpless. It nearly broke 
 her father's heart. One day Joe was talking 
 with the doctor about her, and he thought she 
 might have a slight chance of regaining her 
 sight if a celebrated specialist from London was 
 brought down to operate upon her ; but the 
 cost put it out of the region of possibility. Well, 
 one day a stranger called at Scrimshaw's, and 
 seeing Bessie sitting in front as usual, asked to 
 be allowed to look at her eyes, saying ' he was 
 connected with an eye hospital in London.' 
 After examination he declared he could restore 
 the sight if he were allowed to operate. Scrim- 
 shaw sent for Dr. Gibson, who, of course, advised 
 it should be done. And, sir, the girl got her 
 sight back, married well, and her husband helped 
 her father till the good times came. But nobody 
 knows to this day, but Dr. Gilmour and myself, 
 that it was Joe who went to London, brought 
 the specialist down, and gave him a cheque for 
 150 for the job. You will keep it to yourself, 
 sir, for though Scrimshaw is dead, Joe would 
 be sadly put out if ever this reached the ears 
 of the villagers. When the books are opened 
 at the last day I guess there will be some sur-
 
 88 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 prise when Joe's account is read out. There 
 are heaps of folk who think he is a bad lot, and 
 some of 'em have good reason ; but they have 
 only seen one side of him. I wonder sometimes 
 what God will do with a man like Joe. There 
 are times when I hear of his sharp practices, and 
 his bargain driving, and his swearing, when I 
 am greatly troubled ; but there are others when 
 I think that at last he will be far nearer the 
 Throne than I am ; for he fair makes me ashamed 
 of myself." 
 
 The vicar listened with moistened eyes to this 
 account of a man whom, truth to tell, he had 
 almost grown to dislike, and despise as a vulgar 
 buffoon. 
 
 " He has his own way of doin' things," con- 
 tinued Rufus. " When Jim Stirling died 
 leaving his widow with a farm and a dissolute 
 son on her hands, who was drunk on the day 
 his father was buried, Joe went to the public 
 house and fetched him out and gave him a 
 thrashing, and told him he would do it every 
 time he heard of his dabbling with the drink. 
 He then helped him with the farm. And there 
 is not a better kept farm, or a better and steadier 
 farmer in the parish, as doubtless you know, 
 than William Stirling. Joe saved him, and 
 he will any time walk twenty miles to serve 
 him. 
 
 " On the other hand, I am bound to say that 
 I think his influence over some of the young 
 men of the neighbourhood is not healthy. His 
 knowledge of horses leads many of them to seek 
 his company more than is for their good. I am 
 a little concerned about Lady Wincanton's son,
 
 HE REMEMBERETH THE POOR. 89 
 
 who is everlastingly hanging about the Red 
 Acres buying and selling horses." 
 
 " I must have a serious talk with your 
 brother some of these days," replied the vicar. 
 " In the meantime, we must be grateful to him 
 for his very timely gift. It will help to brighten 
 the lives of many of our poor people." 
 
 " Yes," said Rufus, " only be careful how 
 you handle him. There is more of the thistle 
 than the rose about Joe. He is very prickly at 
 times, and is never so dangerous as when he 
 begins to pay compliments. I tell him I always 
 put my spectacles on when he begins wi' any of 
 his soft sawder. Whenever he starts to praise 
 my preachin' which the Lord knows is very 
 poor at best I say to myself, ' Look out, Rufus, 
 he means mischief.' ' 
 
 " What a strangely complex nature," the 
 vicar replied. ' ' He is certainly a curious study 
 in character." 
 
 " Ay," rejoined Rufus. " Joe is a mixture 
 of mud and marble, of dirt and Deity, of the 
 moon and the midden ; but if ever you are in 
 a tight place, and want a helpin' hand, I would 
 pledge my hopes of heaven on it, if you went 
 to him he would sell the shirt off his back rather 
 than say nay. Maybe God Almighty can under- 
 stand him, but he beats me. He often shocked 
 my missus, who has everythin' a woman ought 
 to have except the sense of humour, and the 
 more horrified she looks the more wicked he 
 will be, and then the next time he comes he'll 
 make it up by bringin' her some fancy bit of 
 crockery, or some women's fal-de-rals, such as 
 ribbons or feathers. As for Gwen, she canno'
 
 90 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 see any fault in him, and his kindness to the 
 girl is beyond thinking about. He'd walk fifteen 
 miles before breakfast to please her, that he 
 would. So we mon just leave him to One who 
 understands the workin' of the human heart 
 better than we." 
 
 Meanwhile, Joe had ridden off home, mutter- 
 ing to himself, " The Vic. and Rufe were soon 
 on the job when they got the cash. Straight 
 as a yard of frozen water is the parson. No 
 misappropriation of a chap's money wi' him. 
 But as for our Rufe, I'll be even wi' him, the 
 open-mouthed blabber. I'll upset his apple 
 cart, see if I don't. He's as sharp as a wasp's 
 sting newly ground. I hear the Methodies have 
 a new parson comin' soon, and are going to 
 have a tea fight to welcome him. I'll be there, 
 and if I don't make our Rufe's whiskers curl, 
 it won't be my fault. Gee up, Briton, old chap, 
 there's some fun comin'."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 THE HEARTACHE OF THE RICH. 
 
 " Can wealth give happiness, look around, and see 
 What gay distress, what splendid misery, 
 Whatever fortune lavishly can pour, 
 The mind annihilates, and calls for more." 
 
 YOUNG. 
 
 LADY Wincanton sat on the terrace in the 
 sunshine, gazing down the avenue of lordly 
 oaks and beeches, which stretched for fully a 
 mile from the Hall. She was not a happy 
 woman, and she had many things to disturb 
 her at that moment. Life is not all honey to 
 the wealthy. Gold brings with it its own curse 
 in a multiplicity of cares and worries. 
 
 The French philosopher, who declared the 
 secret of happiness to be " a hard heart and a 
 good digestion," was after all but a mere super- 
 ficial observer. Lady Wincanton had both, and 
 she was not happy. She had grown up in the 
 belief that the whole plan of Providence was 
 or ought to be adjusted to produce agreeable 
 sensations for herself, and she was finding that 
 somehow it did not work out that way. On the 
 contrary, everything seemed to go wrong. 
 
 She loved two things supremely money and 
 her son Harold. Her early life had been spent 
 in poverty. Her father an old Peninsular 
 soldier had distinguished himself for a kind of 
 dare-devil bravery, and for his wild excesses.
 
 92 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 He quickly ran through a moderate fortune, 
 and brought his family into the direst straits. 
 Twice his name figured in the bankruptcy court, 
 and she remembered, always with a flush of 
 shame, the pitiful ruses that were resorted to 
 in order to procure the necessities of life from 
 the local tradesmen. Then her mother died, 
 after a hard and disappointing life, and she had 
 to be housekeeper. The remembrance of the 
 two following years were branded as by red-hot 
 iron upon her mind and memory. Always, and 
 every day, she had to face the attempt to be 
 genteel, and to appear well on a sum hardly 
 sufficient to keep an artisan's cottage. Her 
 father doled out shillings to her one at a time in 
 a most grudging manner, and yet spent lavishly 
 at his club, until his gambling debts became so 
 notorious that it was hardly safe for him to 
 show his face there. Then he, and another 
 Society blackguard floated a bogus South African 
 Company, and came out with five thousand each 
 and a narrow escape from a prosecution which 
 would have been ruinous. At some gathering 
 he met Sir Harry Wincanton, the degenerate 
 scion of a noble house a scrofulous youth, who 
 lived so fast that at twenty-two he was an old 
 man. He fell in love with Florence, and married 
 her off-hand, on three weeks' acquaintance. 
 Marriage brought disillusionment and he found 
 the beautiful complaisant sweetheart a self- 
 willed and domineering wife. She soon made 
 it quite clear that if there was to be but one 
 head in the house that head was to be hers. She 
 had a hard, granitic intellect, and he had hardly 
 any at all, and the fittest survived, after a short
 
 THE HEARTACHE OF THE RICH. 93 
 
 but decisive struggle for domestic sovereignty. 
 She restricted his spending, she chose his 
 comrades, driving off a hoard of harpies who 
 had preyed upon his weakness ; and she managed 
 his estate, so that in a short time it was providing 
 one-half more than when in the hands of his 
 agents. When Harold was born, she mapped 
 out his future without any reference to his 
 father's will, and, when old enough, sent him to 
 Oxford, where, after two years fast living, he 
 was sent down. Then that young man exhibited 
 some of her own wilfulness by joining the army. 
 His career was short and eventful. He was 
 cashiered, under circumstances which nearly 
 created a Society scandal of the worst type. 
 But she comforted herself by saying that he 
 was sowing his wild oats, and would surely 
 settle down by and by. But his supply of that 
 particular kind of seed seemed to be unbounded, 
 and he did not weary of the pursuit, although 
 some of the harvest was already garnered. 
 She had brought him away from London to 
 save him from a disgraceful liaison with a music- 
 hall artist, a girl, whose graceful gymnastics on 
 the stage were equalled by the vulgarity of her 
 conduct in private life in the hope that in the 
 country there would be fewer temptations. 
 Lady Wincanton had not yet learned that a 
 debased soul makes its own opportunities. 
 When there is evil in the heart, it will find 
 expression, even though in Eden. There were 
 two main sources of anxiety in her mind. Harold 
 displayed the same total disregard of the value 
 of money that had been the bane of his father's 
 life. He was constantly demanding fresh
 
 94 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 supplies, over and above the more than liberal 
 allowance she made him, and there was constant 
 strife between them on this account. 
 
 Several times she had paid gambling debts 
 for him, and vowed each time it should be the 
 last. She foresaw that notwithstanding the 
 ample fortune that had come to her on the death 
 of her husband, it would all disappear if Harold 
 was allowed to have his way. But how to 
 prevent it was the question, for although he 
 professed penitence whenever a difficulty arose, 
 he quickly forgot his promises of amendment. 
 She earnestly hoped he would marry some 
 heiress and fulfil her dream of being a public 
 man. 
 
 For this purpose she contributed largely to 
 the funds of the Conservative party, for she 
 had been told by a cynic that the surest 
 stepping-stone to party favour was a big cheque. 
 When she bought Stourbridge Hall, one of 
 the considerations was that the present Parlia- 
 mentary representative of the party was an old 
 man, greatly respected and loved by all, but 
 who might be expected to resign almost any 
 time, and it had been hinted to her that if she 
 wished her son to get into Parliament, here was 
 probably a safe seat, provided he made himself 
 known and acceptable to the local magnates 
 in the division. But as yet Harold had made 
 very little advance in the direction of her wishes. 
 His knowledge of the political history of his 
 country was a negligible quantity, and, indeed, 
 consisted of a primitive instinct that the Tories 
 were the gentlemanly party, and the Liberals 
 represented a kind of embodied insurrection
 
 THE HEARTACHE OF THE RICH. 95 
 
 against the tenth commandment :] always 
 coveting their neighbour's ox or ass, or what- 
 soever he might possess. The Radicals repre- 
 sented politics in fustian, and were best treated 
 as you treat your neighbour's mangy dog either 
 with a cold indifference or with a kick, if it 
 came your way. But ignorance has never been 
 regarded as a barrier to the House of Commons. 
 He was acquainted with men who marched into 
 the Government lobby every time they heard 
 the crack of the Parliamentary whip, who knew 
 as much about politics as they did about Mars. 
 But they voted right, which, after all, is the 
 great thing. For his part, he was quite willing 
 to add to this band of political inefficients if 
 any constituency cared to send him to St. 
 Stephen's. But he would not lift a finger to 
 bring about that result himself. And so it was 
 left to his mother to do all the wire pulling, 
 social hobnobbing, and subscription-giving that 
 was necessary. 
 
 She had succeeded so well that Harold's name 
 had been coupled with the possible vacancy at 
 the next General Election. An article in the 
 local newspaper, inspired by the purchase of a 
 large number of shares (which the editor had 
 endeavoured in vain to sell for a long time), also 
 confirmed the impression that he would be the 
 candidate, although there had been no meeting 
 of the party, and truth to tell, some of the older 
 and more respected members were very much 
 annoyed at the manner in which the matter 
 was being engineered. 
 
 But she had many things to disturb her 
 equanimity. Harold had lost a thousand
 
 96 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 pounds at the Derby, and there had been an 
 unpleasant scene when he had come to her to 
 find the money. Then Joe Wentworth had 
 called and told her that he would neither pay 
 a higher rent nor move, and intimated that her 
 son was not only in his debt to a considerable 
 amount, but that he was acquainted with more 
 about his past than she cared for others to 
 know. She could overawe all the rest of her 
 tenants, but Joe was impervious to her frowns, 
 and met her threats with counter threats, and 
 the most downright plain speaking she had 
 ever heard. 
 
 " On the day you send in the notice that I 
 must leave the Red Acres I will send in my bill," 
 he said, " for what your son owes, and for un- 
 exhausted improvement. Why, when I took 
 that farm it was the poorest on the estate and 
 grew nothing but docks and nettles, and had 
 ruined the two previous tenants, and after I 
 have put a little fortune into it I'm not going 
 to pack up my traps and leave it for somebody 
 else. And now I'm on with the leaving business 
 I want to tell your Ladyship what everybody 
 is saying behind your back, and nobody dares 
 to say to your face, and that is there is a limit 
 to human endurance, and if the screw is put on 
 much tighter, you must not be surprised some 
 night to find that you have sown the wind and 
 reaped the whirlwind. There is some pretty 
 rough talk in the publics, I assure you, and I 
 should not be surprised if there is not a bigger 
 fire at Stourbridge Hall than is needed to cook 
 the next day's dinner." 
 
 " You dare to threaten me," she retorted,
 
 THE HEARTACHE OF THE RICH. 97 
 
 now angry beyond all control. " I will have 
 you sent to prison." 
 
 "Nay, you won't," said Joe, "because if 
 you did I'd have the reason your son left Egypt 
 stuck on every gate post. But I am only tellin' 
 you for your good. We are quiet, decent people 
 down here, but if we get trodden on we are apt 
 to turn, and so I bid your Ladyship good after- 
 noon, and if ever there comes a time when you 
 want to sell the Red Acres I'm the man that's 
 willing to buy it ; but it will be at my own 
 price." 
 
 Then the wild Bremners had sent an insolent 
 message, that if she wanted them to go, she 
 must come and put them out, and intimated 
 that they were prepared to resist to the last. 
 And, lastly, the vicar of Summerton and Rufus 
 Wentworth had caused her annoyance by calling 
 to lay before her the petition of a number of 
 tenants whose rents she had ordered to be 
 raised, and the former had told her very plainly 
 that she was more exacting than she was just. 
 And so she was beginning to wish she had gone 
 elsewhere instead of to Summerton, where the 
 public interests were guarded by an over- 
 scrupulous vicar and a very plain-spoken 
 Methodist. 
 
 " Seems to me she has hardened her heart 
 and stiffened her neck," said Rufus Wentworth 
 to Bedford Bird, as they turned home after a 
 stormy interview. " She is like a good many 
 more, she thinks what is lent her is her own. 
 and she is forgetting that there will be a Judg- 
 ment Day." 
 
 "Mr. Wentworth," replied the vicar, "my 
 
 a
 
 98 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 heart is heavy because of the oppression of the 
 poor, and we are so utterly helpless." 
 
 " Dunno say that," said Rufus, " you've 
 at least troubled her conscience, and that is 
 something. Sir, I thank God every night that 
 He has sent you to this parish, because you 
 dare to stand up against wickedness in high 
 places and, while condemning the sins of the 
 poor, you are not afraid to tackle those of the 
 rich."' 
 
 " And I," murmured the vicar, " have 
 offered thanksgiving because I have in my 
 parish a man who is a light in a dark place, and 
 as the shadow of a rock in a weary land. Sir, 
 this village owes a thousand times more to you 
 than it does to me. But I foresee there is a stiff 
 fight before us, and we must stand together. 
 I learn that Harold Wincanton is to be the 
 candidate at the next election for this con- 
 stituency. I am no strong politician, but with 
 all my leaning towards the Conservative party, 
 I cannot let a young reprobate like that represent 
 my parish without protest. I have always held 
 that we should send only men of the highest 
 probity to make our laws, and that as a Christian 
 people we should enthrone character in our 
 national life." 
 
 " Give us your hand, sir," said Rufus, " I 
 am with you. I am an old Radical, but I voted 
 for the present member because the folk in 
 London sent down a big brewer last election. 
 It is time we had men who fear God to make our 
 laws." And the two men shook hands on the 
 compact. 
 
 When Joe Wentworth heard the news he
 
 THE HEARTACHE OF THE RICH. 99 
 
 laughed and declared, if nobody else put up 
 against Wincanton he would become a candidate 
 himself. " And if I got in the House of Com- 
 mons," he said, " there would be some fun." 
 There is no doubt there would have been, and 
 for the gaiety of the nation it is almost a pity 
 that Joe was never destined to enter the charmed 
 circle of St. Stephen's. But whether his own 
 side or the opposition benches had most need 
 to be grateful is a moot point.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 TWO SERMONS AND AN APPLICATION. 
 
 " I saw one man, armed with God's word, 
 
 Enter the souls of many fellow-men 
 And pierce them sharply as a two-edged sword, 
 While conscience echoed back his words again." 
 
 CAROLINE E. NORTON. 
 
 RUFUS sat in his garden, musing over his 
 Sunday's sermon. His plan was first to select 
 his subject, and then to let it steep for a few 
 weeks, then to choose a suitable text, and having 
 done so, to talk it over with his wife, who usually 
 had some valuable suggestions to make. Another 
 season of meditation followed, then Matthew 
 Henry was consulted, and the final stage was 
 reached when he went into the garden with a 
 pencil and a sheet of notepaper to jot down his 
 thoughts. Hardly, however, was he seated 
 when he heard the rumble of wheels on the 
 cobble street, and, looking over the garden wall, 
 he saw his brother driving in the gig. 
 
 " Hallo, Rufe," he shouted. " Hard weather 
 this for umbrella-makers. If it don't rain soon 
 we shall have to wash ourselves in buttermilk." 
 
 " The rain will come in the Lord's good time," 
 said his brother. " There ain't much harm 
 done yet." 
 
 "Ain't there?" replied Joe. "Why, the 
 turnips are getting as dry as that rich man you 
 preached about, who wanted a lick of a beggar's
 
 TWO SERMONS. IOI 
 
 finger. It's easy for retired folks, who have 
 made their pile, to talk about the Lord's good 
 time, but if you had your bread and butter 
 depending on rain comin' I guess you'd sing 
 another tune. The glass hasn't moved a point 
 for a fortnight, and don't look as if it were ever 
 goin' to move again. It vexes me every time 
 I see it, until I feel like puttin' the thing under 
 the pump." 
 
 " Much good that would do. Better go 
 down on your knees and pray for rain," said 
 Rufus. 
 
 " Naay," said Joe. " If I went on my knees, 
 I guess all the angels would be tumbling over 
 one another to have a peep. I pay the parson 
 to do my prayin' for me." 
 
 " Joe," said Rufus, " prayin' can't be done 
 by proxy any more than eatin'. Every man 
 must do his own." 
 
 " That's rather hard lines, after paying tithes 
 and givin' to collections. But what's that 
 you're doing ? writing a novel ? " 
 
 " I'm making a sermon for to-morrow neet. 
 I'm planned at Summerton." 
 
 " Well, then, I'm coming up to tea. Tell 
 Queenie and the missis that I shall want some 
 raisin cake wi' raisins in. The last they gave 
 me they called raisin cake, becaas they stuck 
 one raisin at the top, and divided it into four 
 pieces. It was like old Croxby's pork and tatie 
 pies, one half was taties and the other half taties 
 and crust. But, mind, if I come to hear you 
 preach, you must not put any brimstone in the 
 sermon. I can't stand it. If, as you preachers 
 tell us, we are to get a double dose by-and-by,
 
 102 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 you might spare us from havin' it thrust down 
 our throats now." 
 
 " I wish," replied Rufus, " I could put in 
 some word that would awaken you to a sense 
 of your true position. I'm greatly troubled 
 about you at times. But somehow, I think 
 you will be one of those who will get hired in 
 the eleventh hour." 
 
 " Well," answered Joe, " short time and 
 full pay is about my figure. There are lots of 
 things I like better than work. But ta-ta till 
 to-morrow." 
 
 Rufus returned to his study, but somehow 
 he did not get on with it. His brother's spiritual 
 condition troubled him. If he could but lead 
 him to the better life, he felt he could die happy. 
 He, perhaps, understood the changeful, ir- 
 reverent, flippant nature better than anyone else, 
 but even he was puzzled at times. Sometimes 
 he had great hopes that impressions were being 
 made upon his mind for he would listen 
 attentively to the most serious talk but then 
 all at once he would end it by some poor jest or 
 garish story. 
 
 True to his promise, Joe turned up the next 
 day at tea time, carrying a black coat over his 
 arm, which he hung behind the door. 
 
 " Where is the raisin cake ? " he asked, as 
 he surveyed the table. 
 
 " You naughty man, you are not to have any 
 because you don't speak the truth," replied 
 Gwen. " The last cake you had was full of 
 raisins. I made it myself." 
 
 " Did you ? Well, my dear it must have 
 been somewhere else I got the inferior brand.
 
 TWO SERMONS. 103 
 
 I guarantee if you made it it would be the prime 
 article, as good as heather honey and pancakes. 
 Glad tea is ready. Now, Rufe, draw up. ' For 
 what we are about to receive, etc.' " 
 
 11 How do you like your tea, uncle ? " asked 
 Mrs. Wentworth. " One lump of sugar or 
 two ? " 
 
 " Two lumps of sugar, ma'am, a quarter of 
 a cup of thick cream, the rest tea a good 
 blackish brown. Sometimes I get tea so weak 
 it can scarcely waddle out of the pot, and cream 
 so thin you can see the pattern at the bottom 
 of the jug. But yours is TEA. Plenty of the 
 caddy, and not too much of the kettle." 
 
 " You're very flattering to-day, uncle," said 
 Gwen. ' ' What's the matter ? " 
 
 " Why," said Joe, " I do feel a bit pleased 
 with myself. You see, as I was coming to the 
 village I thowt I would come an hour earlier 
 and step into the church and hear the vicar. 
 He is a good sort, and I like to encourage him, 
 and, as he will soon be callin' for the tithe, I 
 thowt he might take something off if I went to 
 church, and, maybe, I might pick up a point 
 or two to chalk up against him. And I did. 
 He was preaching from : " If a man take thy 
 coat away, give him they cloak also," and he 
 said that was what we ought to do, fair and 
 square. ' All reet,' says I, ' we will try how 
 it works.' So directly he'd finished and given 
 out the hymn I walks to the vestry. I knew 
 he took his coat off when he put his surplice 
 on this hot weather. And sure enough, there 
 it was. I brought it away, and left a little note 
 to say that if he wanted to act up to his sermon
 
 104 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 he could make the trousers up in a parcel and 
 leave it just inside the vicarage gate, and I'd 
 call there to-night, and signed it ' A Tramp.' 
 Guess I would like to see the vicar's face when 
 he reads it. That's the coat. It will fit thee, 
 Rufe, splendidly. So I will make you a present 
 of it. Likewise the trousers, if they turn up." 
 
 The listeners sat for a moment gazing at the 
 gleeful face of the farmer, and then his brother 
 burst into a loud laugh, and his wife exclaimed 
 in horror, " You don't mean to say you stole 
 the coat ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am," he said, " I took it from the 
 vestry wi'oot saying anything, but I've asked 
 for the trousers. I guess the vicar will consider 
 twice before he preaches that sermon again." 
 
 " But you will return it," said Gwen. 
 
 " Naay," he said, "I shan't. It's time 
 parsons were taught to practice what they 
 preach. Besides, I've given it to Rufe. It will 
 make a minister of him complete." 
 
 " But dad won't have it I'm sure he won't," 
 exclaimed Gwen. " I shall take it back myself 
 in the morning." 
 
 " Well," said Joe, with a gesture of resigna- 
 tion, " I've done my best to make the pulpit 
 consistent ; but everybody is against me. But 
 I meant well. What do you say, Rufe ? " 
 
 His brother seemed greatly amused at the 
 horror depicted on his wife's face and the 
 astonishment of Gwen's. 
 
 " I think you have interpreted the vicar's 
 sermon too literally," replied Rufus. " He 
 did not mean exactly what you think he did." 
 
 * ' That's it," said Joe. ' ' One never knows
 
 TWO SERMONS. 
 
 105 
 
 how to take things from the pulpit. If a man 
 in the market says that he will sell a horse for 
 twenty pounds, we think he means four five- 
 pound notes, or two tenners ; but in the pulpit 
 he would mean thirty pounds. It is bothering 
 to plain men like myself. My, but this jam 
 puff is good. I could eat it four times a day for 
 a fortnight, and then start again. When a 
 fellow's got a clean conscience, and a jam puff 
 like this, he ought to be a happy man. Rufe 
 Wentworth, it's the right end of the stick you've 
 got, my man. Two women to wait on you, jam 
 puff for tea, and nowt to do but sit in the 
 garden and listen to the throstles sing." 
 
 " It's bearable," said Rufus, screwing up his 
 face. " I've been wuss off, and then haven't 
 had much to grumble at. There's men in 
 prisons and workhouses I wouldn't change 
 places with. But we must have some music. 
 I always like Gwen to sing for me before I go 
 to preach. It kind of helps me to the reet 
 mood." 
 
 "Well," said Joe, grinning, "I'll try and 
 stand it wi'oot stufHn' cotton-wool in my ears, 
 if she'll promise not to sing anything very 
 comic. I can't stand comic songs on Sunday, 
 havin' been brought up kind of religious." 
 
 " I won't sing for you at all if you don't 
 behave yourself," said Gwen. " You are a 
 nasty, wicked old man to suggest I would sing 
 comic songs on a Sabbath." 
 
 ' ' Take no notice of him, my dear," said Mrs. 
 Wentworth. ' ' Let's have Dad's favourite,^ 
 ' Oh, for a thousand tongues to sing.' ' 
 
 "My," said Joe, "if they were all like
 
 106 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Queenie's, what a concert there would be. It 
 would be grand, unless they took to talkin' 
 instead of singin'. Come, lass, I'll put in the 
 bass and Rufe can put in the discords." 
 
 For the next half hour the house was full of 
 music. Joe had a good voice, and he and Gwen 
 were never happier than when they were singing. 
 Rufus sat listening, a look of supreme content 
 on his face, whilst Mrs. Wentworth joined in 
 occasionally with her thin soprano, as she put 
 away the tea things. 
 
 " Now, it is nearly time we were ready," said 
 Gwen at length. 
 
 " Let's have just another," said Joe. 
 " Something lively to finish with, such as 
 ' Come on, my partners in distress,' or ' Am 
 I only born to die.' What's it to be, Rufe ? 
 This concert's for your especial benefit, you 
 know." 
 
 " Lead, kindly light," answered Rufus. " If 
 you don't mind, I should like Gwen to sing it 
 alone." 
 
 " Humph, missis," said Joe, turning to Mrs. 
 Wentworth, " that's a nasty hit at you and 
 me. Talk of unappreciated genius. Well, go 
 on lass. I wish we could stop here all night, 
 for anything is better than havin' to listen to 
 our Rufe tryin' to preach." 
 
 Gwen sang the hymn with great feeling, and 
 even the irrepressible Joe had nothing to say 
 at the close, but quietly patted her on the 
 shoulder in token of his appreciation. 
 
 The chapel was full that night, as it was every 
 time Rufus preached, for his quaint, straight- 
 forward, unconventional sermons were greatly
 
 TWO SERMONS. 
 
 107 
 
 liked by the simple-minded country people. 
 His text was, " And let the beauty of the Lord 
 our God be upon us," and for three-quarters of 
 an hour he held his congregation in deepest 
 attention. From hill and dale, from tree and 
 garden, he culled his illustrations, and never 
 once did his congregation weary. He con- 
 cluded by describing an evening spent in 
 his rose garden, just after a shower, when 
 raindrops hung on leaf and flower, and the 
 sun shot from behind the clouds, to flood the 
 landscape for a few moments with a rich, mellow 
 light, and God gave him this message to deliver. 
 " I saw the fringe of his garment, friends," he 
 exclaimed, " but, some day, I shall see His 
 face, and shall understand how He, who can 
 make a sunset, has only been giving us a hint 
 of His own beauty." 
 
 " Well, uncle," said Gwen, " did you not 
 think Dad was grand to-night," as they wended 
 their way home, leaving Rufus to conduct the 
 prayer meeting. 
 
 " My dear," said Joe, " there ain't a bishop 
 on the bench that can hold a candle to our Rufe 
 at preachin', only it wouldna do to tell him so. 
 I'd back him on a preachin' match agin all 
 comers for a thousand pounds, and then have 
 no v/orry about losin' the money. I wish I was 
 as sure of something else, larss." 
 
 "What's that, Uncle Joe ?" 
 
 ' ' That you'll marry a sensible man. Don't 
 make the mistake a' thinkin' that because a hoss 
 comes out of a fine stable that he is a good goer. 
 And remember, lass, that the best lookin' nag 
 often loses the race,"
 
 io8 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " I don't know what you mean," replied 
 Gwen, blushing furiously. 
 
 " Well, the next time thou goes walkin' down 
 Blackberry lane, mind and look o'er the top of 
 the hedges. Good-night, and give my respects 
 to the vicar when you take his coat back," 
 and ere Gwen could reply he was gone. 
 
 " There," he said to himself, " the pig is out 
 of the sty amongst the cabbages now. I guess 
 there ain't as many raisins in my cake next time. 
 I'd a good mind to call on the vicar and see what 
 he says about his coat." 
 
 Mr. Bird was just about to go to his supper 
 when Joe was shown in. ' ' How do you do, Mr. 
 Wentworth ? " he said. " I hope I see you 
 well." 
 
 ' ( Well enuff in body, sir," replied Joe, ' ' but 
 troubled in conscience, and so I thought I'd 
 call and ask your advice. 
 
 " Sit you down, sir," replied the vicar. " If 
 I can be of any service to you, I shall be pleased." 
 
 " Well, it's this. Supposing a loyal church- 
 man, who has conscientious convictions against 
 dissent, and thinks it is heresy, is asked by a 
 friendly neighbour to subscribe towards a new 
 chapel, ought he to do so ? " 
 
 The vicar took a moment to think, and then 
 answered, " I should say not, Mr. Wentworth, 
 if he has strong convictions." 
 
 11 Humph," said Joe, " thank you. Well, 
 then, suppose a Nonconformist has conscientious 
 scruples against paying tithes and church rates, 
 ought he to do so ? " 
 
 The vicar smiled, and replied, " I am going 
 to have my supper. Suppose we discuss the
 
 TWO SERMONS. I09 
 
 matter over a cup of coffee, if you really want 
 an answer." 
 
 " I've no objection to pick a bone wi' you," 
 replied Joe. " I should think preachin's hard 
 work, ain't it ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the vicar, " I always feel very 
 exhausted on a Sunday evening." 
 
 " So do I," said Joe, " when I go to church. 
 There's only one thing harder than preachin' to 
 my mind, and that's listenin'. I've heard two 
 sermons to-day one a very good one, and the 
 other just middlin' and I feel quite done up. 
 They will last me for quite three months at 
 least." 
 
 ft I was glad to see you in church this after- 
 noon. It is a duty you owe to yourself and 
 God, Mr. Wentworth, to be found at worship 
 oftener." 
 
 " Ay," replied Joe, " I came just to en- 
 courage you, sir. But I've been to the Methody 
 Chapel, to-night, and I listened to a sermon 
 worth walking ten miles to hear. Yours was all 
 reet, but it was not practical enuff for me." 
 
 11 There was a tramp present who differed 
 from you, for he took away my coat, and left 
 a note asking for my trousers as well." 
 
 " Did he ? " exclaimed Joe, rubbing his 
 hands. ' ' Well, that's a good 'un. I guess 
 you've set Benbow, the policeman, on his track." 
 
 " No," said the vicar. " But I hope it 
 really was some poor man who needs a coat, and 
 if so he is welcome to the trousers." 
 
 " Do you say that ? " said Joe. " You 
 meant what you said then ? " 
 
 ' ' Well, not exactly as this man seems to have
 
 I io ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 taken it, but if I have not made myself sufficiently 
 plain I ought not to punish those who misunder- 
 stand my preaching. But you have not told 
 me who has been preaching at the Methodist 
 Chapel." 
 
 " My brother," answered Joe. " And there 
 binna a parson in the county can preach like 
 him." 
 
 ' ' Your brother is a good man, Mr. Wentworth, 
 and one I'm proud to have in my parish. I can 
 readily believe that he can preach, although I 
 never have had an opportunity of hearing him." 
 
 " Ask him to preach in the church some 
 Sunday," said Joe. " It would be full, and 
 I'll guarantee the collection." 
 
 ' ' I wish I could ; but you know the Bishop 
 would not allow it." 
 
 11 Bishop be hanged ! I guess the Bishop 
 will want to go to the same heaven as Rufe. 
 If he don't he'll be badly off." 
 
 " Ah, you don't understand, Mr. Wentworth, 
 how convention, and caste, and privilege keep 
 men apart. I feel strongly myself the differ- 
 ences between our Nonconformist brethren and 
 ourselves ought not to make any difference 
 either in worship or service, but many of the 
 clergy think otherwise. But for your brother 
 I have the highest regard, I can assure you, 
 and count it an honour to number him amongst 
 my friends. I wish there were more like him." 
 
 "So do I," said the unabashed Joe ; " but 
 if we were all like Rufe there would be nothin' 
 for parsons to do. The more people there are 
 like me, the more need for a parson." 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth," replied the vicar, " I
 
 TWO SERMONS. 
 
 in 
 
 have had it on my conscience to come and see 
 you for some weeks past. There are many 
 stories afloat about you buying and selling cattle 
 on a Sunday, which I hope, for your credit's sake 
 and that of the parish, are not true." 
 
 11 Ain't there an old proverb which says 
 * the better the day the better the deed ' ? " 
 asked Joe. 
 
 * ' There is a commandment which says ' Thou 
 shalt remember the Sabbath Day to keep it 
 holy,' ' sternly replied the clergyman. 
 
 " I'll try and remember it in future," said 
 Joe. " But don't believe all the stories you 
 hear, sir, because some of them are lies, and 
 some are half lies, and most of them are only 
 three-quarters of the truth. I cannot help folks 
 comin' squintin' round at my cattle on a Sunday, 
 and I never bargained on a Sunday but once, 
 and that was when I sold your coachman the 
 nag you ride." 
 
 " You don't mean to say that John bought it 
 on the Sabbath ? I shall dismiss him in the 
 morning. 
 
 ' ' Na-ay," said Joe, ' ' he didn't bargain 
 exactly for it on the Sunday. He came on 
 Saturday and offered me a price for the nag, 
 and said you were set on havin' the hoss ; but 
 I didn't particular want to part wi' him, and I 
 just clapped five pounds on the price. Well, 
 we couldn't agree, but I promised to come and 
 hear you preach on the Sunday. It was just 
 after you came to Summerton. And I'll say 
 this, you took my fancy that morning. It was 
 like a change from winter to spring after your 
 predecessor. But I suspect that was the best
 
 ii2 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 sermon in the box. You so worked on my 
 feelings that when I got to the door I sees John 
 and I says, ' He shall have the hoss at his own 
 price,' and he says, 'I'll come for it on the 
 morrow,' and so we fixed it. Now, who was to 
 blame, sir me for offering the tit, or John for 
 jumping at the offer ? Anyhow, it wouldn't be 
 right for John to get it all, would it ? " 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth," the vicar said, smiling, 
 " really I can never understand you." 
 
 " La', sir," said Joe, " that's nowt. I cannot 
 understand myself. There's bits o' me that 
 are first-rate stuff, and there are considerable 
 pieces that ain't any better than they should be, 
 and I never know which will come uppermost. 
 But I'm not as bad as some make out, and not 
 nearly as good as I might be. I once heard an 
 old preacher say there were some folks too good 
 for hell and not good enough for heaven, and 
 I think he had his eye on me. But I might as 
 well own up now I'm here. I took your coat, 
 sir." 
 
 11 You ! " exclaimed the vicar. 
 
 1 ' Ay," said Joe ; ' * and I confess I thought 
 you'd be a trifle mad when I took you at your 
 word. But, seeing it ain't ruffled your plumes 
 a bit, all the fun has gone out of it. Queenie 
 has promised to bring it back in the morning. 
 And here's a couple of guineas for the poor 
 fund, but don't tell anybody I've given 'em. 
 Good neet, vicar ; I've enjoyed my supper." 
 
 As he trudged home the farmer muttered to 
 himself, " Joe Wentworth, this parish wonno' 
 be worth livin' in soon, wi' a vicar that isn't 
 content wi' saying' you mon follow the light,
 
 TWO_ SERMONS. 113 
 
 and not the lantern, but is a light as big as a 
 haystack on fire on a dark night ; all the fun 
 will be gone, what wi' him and Rufe there 
 won't be work enuff to keep the devil warm. 
 It will be too much like the Garden o' Eden for 
 a poor sinner like me. I shall have either to 
 mend or flit, and it's not easy to mend, and I 
 dunno' want to flit."
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " AND HE SPAKE TO THEM IN 
 PARABLES." 
 
 " How far the little candle throws its beams, 
 So shines a good deed in this naughty world," 
 
 SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 "CHUCK! Chuck! Chuck!" 
 
 Joe Wentworth stood leaning over his farm 
 gate, counting the black Spanish fowls, which 
 were greedily picking up some corn scrapings 
 he had thrown them. Having assured himself 
 that their number was correct, he very closely 
 scrutinised the fifty hens, one by one. 
 
 " Seems to me," he said, " when all are 
 black, it's very difficult to tell the thief from 
 the honest hens, but I'll catch her yet. No less 
 than thirteen eggs eaten, or broken yesterday. 
 A hen that eats eggs I regard as a kind of cannibal 
 and a cannibal binna fit to live. If I can find 
 her out I'll boil the eggs inside of her. Our Rufe 
 is great on sending missionaries to the cannibals, 
 but my way would be to send the hangman. It 
 mayn't be quite so Christian, but it is the more 
 sartin." 
 
 "Chuck! Chuck! Chuck!" 
 
 " Ay, what is that ? " 
 
 A hen was running round the group to get a 
 better chance at the corn, and the farmer 
 caught sight of a small speck of white on her
 
 AND HE SPAKE IN PARABLES. 115 
 
 beak. After she had settled to her feeding, he 
 went quietly up to her, and laid his hands on 
 her. She fluttered and flustered in protest, but 
 was helpless, and he carefully examined her beak. 
 
 ' ' Thought so," he said. ' ' Sorry to disturb 
 you at lunch, but justice will not wait. Cir- 
 cumstantial evidence is decidedly agin you. 
 Bit of egg shell on your beak. Pity you didn't 
 wash your mouth after eating. Small feathers 
 all stuck together. That means egg for break- 
 fast. Anything to say in self-defence ? Then 
 good-bye," and the next moment the hen lay 
 dead on the ground with a dislocated neck. 
 
 11 That's an object lesson," he said, addressing 
 the other fowl, as if they were human beings, 
 " agin developing an appetite for egg. Next as 
 does it gets same sauce. It's a sure way to the 
 pot. Hullo ! why yon's our Rufe comin'. 
 Guess he's got a collectin' book, or prick-this- 
 for-a-penny-card, or a shillin' block for sale, 
 whereby he takes your silver, and gives you a 
 bit o' fancy cardboard, if you are fool enufL 
 Grand ideas has Rufe for clothin* savages in 
 gingham and alpaca as if sunshine wasn't 
 good enuff. Or else he's on for buildin' a little 
 Bethel for somebody who wants to go to heaven, 
 and makes other folks pay for it ; or otherwise 
 he's beggin' for a preacher's salary from those 
 who never go to hear him preach. Rum fellow 
 is Rufe. I guess if there's any House o' Lords 
 in heaven Rufe'll be on the front bench. Any- 
 how he'd get my vote." 
 
 " Hallo, Rufe, lad, what art thee up to this 
 morning ? And how's the missus and the 
 princess ? "
 
 ii6 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " Toppin', Joe," replied his brother. " They 
 are entering into a kind of conspiracy against 
 you just now, so keep your peepers open." 
 
 " What's in the wind, eh ? Going to marry 
 me to a widow with fourteen kids, or send me 
 as a delegate to the Methody Conference ? 
 Ha, ha ! " 
 
 " Na-ay," replied Rufus, joining his brother's 
 laughter, " but they are going to have you up 
 at our house on Gwen's birthday, and are for 
 giving you chronic indigestion by stuffing you 
 with birthday cake. Maybe you'll be glad of a 
 widow to nurse you after that." 
 
 "Right," said Joe, "I'm their man. I'll 
 take a lot of stuffin' I guess before the crisis 
 comes, and if the wuss comes to the wust, I'll 
 die a martyr in a good cause. When does it 
 come off ? " 
 
 " Next Tuesday, and I've brought you the 
 invitation." 
 
 " Oh," said Joe, " I thought you'd come 
 beggin' for a ruined chimney pot for some chapel, 
 or for some money to buy Beecham's pills for 
 the natives of Africa, or a motor-car for a 
 Methody parson. I've got a bad three-penny 
 bit, paid me by a churchwarden, and I started 
 to find it directly I saw you." 
 
 " Why," said his brother, screwing up his 
 face, " now you mention it, it does go agin 
 the grain not to increase your chances o' gettin' 
 into heaven, by taking some of your money for 
 a good cause. You owe a lot to the Lord for 
 your prosperity." 
 
 " Prosperity," exclaimed the farmer. " I'd 
 a cow died last week, and a horse lamed the
 
 AND HE SPAKE IN PARABLES. 117 
 
 week before, and a pig died an unnatural death 
 just a week before that ; and wi' a Liberal 
 Government in power, wheat's goin' down, and 
 labour up, the foreigner is gettin' all the cream 
 off the milk, and we get what's left. Call that 
 prosperity, eh ? " 
 
 " Bosh," said Rufus, " Gi' me a farmer for 
 grumbling, all the world over. The cow that 
 was staked was certainly a loss, but the horse 
 that was lamed was better in three days, and 
 is now working on the land. And that pig that 
 died an unnatural death is now being salted in 
 your cellar. Is that so ? " 
 
 " Guess," said Joe, " he did run up against 
 a sharp knife and cut himself." 
 
 " Thought so," said Rufus, " and as for the 
 Liberal Government, and the forriner, and the 
 cream, that is not your honest opinion, and 
 you know it. See what a season you had last 
 year. Two hay crops, splendid barley, wheat 
 capital, roots superb." 
 
 " It was a bad year for mushrooms though," 
 growled Joe. 
 
 " Ay," replied Rufus, " An' for crabs and 
 sloes. If you told the truth, in these bad times 
 you are saving not a penny less than five hundred 
 a year." 
 
 Joe shook his head. 
 
 " Shake away," said Rufus, " you'd shake 
 it off before you'd make me believe that your 
 profits were less than that. And here you are 
 grumbling at the rate of a thousand a year loss, 
 and giving a few shillings away and posing as 
 very generous for doing that." 
 
 " Well, what is it you want ? Name the
 
 ii8 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 sum, and done with it. If a man's to be hung, 
 it's no use keepin' him in misery wi' the rope 
 round his neck." 
 
 " Well, I want five pounds for the foundation 
 stone laying at Keystone next week." 
 
 Joe pulled his face into various shapes, and 
 then said, " Humph, I'll give you a guinea." 
 
 " No," said Rufus, " a guinea's nowt for 
 you." 
 
 "Two, then." 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Hang it, man, do you want to send me to 
 the workhouse ? I tell you I have no end of 
 losses. Why I've had to kill this hen this 
 morning as fine a fowl as ever stepped." 
 
 " What have you killed it for ? " asked his 
 brother. 
 
 " Eatin' its eggs," said his brother. " When 
 a fowl eats all it produces, and shares the good 
 corn given to others, it's time it was taught not 
 to be greedy." 
 
 " Ay," said Rufus, his eyes twinkling, " and 
 what is good law for chickens is surely not very 
 bad for farmers. Mind you don't get your neck 
 screwed if you keep all you produce." 
 
 "Gad," said Joe, "that's kind o' gettin' 
 your shins cut with your own scythe. I'll 
 give no more than a shilling towards your 
 foundation stone, but I'll give you the other 
 four pounds nineteen to keep it quiet. If I gave 
 five pounds, I should have the place thick wi' 
 trampin' parsons, and missionary collectors 
 and hospital men, and orphans, and asylums, 
 and societies for the Promotion of Wooden 
 Legged Men, or for puttin' down organ grinding,
 
 AND HE SPAKE IN PARABLES. 119 
 
 and Anti-Spitting Societies, and Hatters' 
 Leagues, and^Women's rights, and there will be 
 murder donejbefore I'm through with it. Put 
 it down as a donation from the old black hen, 
 for I'll have saved something this morning by 
 shortening the earthly existence of this one, 
 who has been eatin' eggs, price a shilling a dozen, 
 for weeks. But came in and have a bite o' bread 
 and cheese, and a drink of ale." 
 
 " Bread and cheese, yes. For your cheese 
 is always worth eatin', but no ale for me." 
 
 " Oh, I forgot," said Joe, " that you drink 
 water like a beast." 
 
 " That's so," said Rufus. " I don't want 
 to go below the level of beasts in my drinking. 
 They kind of turn their noses up at your drink." 
 
 ' l Pooh ! " said Joe, * ' they drink water 
 because they have no better sense." 
 
 " It agrees with them remarkably well," 
 rejoined Rufus. " Those horses of yours 
 wouldn't look so well on whisky." 
 
 " Dunno," said Joe, " I once knew a donkey 
 that was wonderfully fond of porter. He'd 
 take it three or four times a day, and enjoy it." 
 
 " Likely," replied Rufus, " I've always 
 thought if the beasts ever get demoralised, the 
 donkeys would lead the way." 
 
 " Gad ! " said Joe. " I wish I had been a 
 preacher, it would have helped me wonderfully 
 in sellin' horses. Answers come so ready when 
 you're used to pattering. It's a great gift is 
 that of the gab. But come in and have a feed, 
 or the next time you are preachin' on the parable 
 of the good Samaritan you'll be sayin' I'm like 
 the priest who passed by on the other side."
 
 120 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " Not I," said Rufus, " I'd never be so 
 foolish as to liken you to either priest or Levite. 
 I should rather liken you to another character 
 in the parable." 
 
 11 What, the man who had been robbed ? 
 Ay ! I never thought of that. Capital ! " 
 
 " No," replied Rufus, " but if I bought 
 horses of you, the man who robbed. You should 
 hear what young Markham says of you." 
 
 " Why," said Joe, with a laugh, " I reckon 
 I did young Markham a good turn by takin' the 
 conceit out of him. He was boastin' nobody 
 ever had, or could, get the top-side of him in hoss 
 buying, and that what he didn't know about 
 hosses wasn't worth knowing. He allowed I 
 knew a thing or two, but accordin' to him, mine 
 was second-hand goods compared with his. 
 Well, I sold him a hoss that had fits, and charged 
 him five sovereigns extra for the fits. You see, 
 he didn't have them often, and when he was 
 all right there wasn't anything the matter with 
 him. Do his work, eats his vittals, and was as 
 quiet as a lamb, and was the fastest goer in the 
 stables. But about once a month that hoss 
 seemed to go right down mad, and then he would 
 kick his shoes off his feet. I'll tell ye he made 
 matchwood of his stall in one fit, and in another 
 nearly killed a young colt. The men were afraid 
 of him, and nobody could do aught wi' him but 
 me. But if I was about, and went and spoke 
 to him, he'd kind o' cool down in a few minutes. 
 Well, Markham fell in love wi' him one day when 
 he was comin' from market. He tried wi' his 
 big bay, which never lets mushrooms grow under 
 his feet, to keep ahead of me. My hoss didn't
 
 AND HE SPAKE IN PARABLES. 121 
 
 like the dust, and made up his mind to give the 
 other a turn behind, and, in spite of all Markham 
 could do, he slipped past him on the common, 
 and I asked him if he had any message to send, 
 as I was going to trot on. I tell you he didn't 
 like it, and the bay got more long oats than he 
 cared for. Markham came up next day and 
 wanted to deal. I held off, and told him the 
 hoss was a rotter, and that he was not good 
 enuff for him, and I named a stiff price to choke 
 him off. But he wouldn't be said nay, and so 
 I parted. Next week he had a fit and he kicked 
 Markham's new gig into splints, and ran into a 
 shop window, and upset the bottles, and Mark- 
 ham had to come down handsome. Well, six 
 weeks passed, and he had another, and this 
 time he upset the whole show, and was so mad 
 they sent for a gun to shoot him. But I 
 happened to be passing, and I bought him back 
 to please Markham, for about as much as I 
 could sell him to make sausages. Markham's 
 been kind o' shy wi' me ever since." 
 
 " There don't seem to be too much of the 
 golden rule in horse buying," said Rufus. 
 
 " Dunno," said his brother. " It's my rule, 
 ' Do as you are done by,' and a decent rule it 
 is. I never cheat unless I see the other chap 
 at the game, and then its diamond cut diamond. 
 I don't wait to be bitten, I get furst bite." 
 
 " That isn't the golden rule," replied Rufus. 
 " It is to do as you would be done by." 
 
 " Ay! that's all right for growing cauliflowers 
 and roses, but it wouldn't do for hosses. There's 
 more rascality in the hoss business than any 
 other, and the man that wouldn't come out of
 
 122 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 it as bare as a pig's back is of wool, must be up 
 to the dodges." 
 
 "Then I would be out of it," said Rufus. 
 " I wouldn't have dirty money at any price." 
 
 " 'Cept for foundation stones," said his 
 brother with a chuckle. " But here's the bread 
 and cheese. I suppose you won't refuse that 
 because my cows got into Robbin's pastures 
 and ate his grass. That milk wasn't quite 
 honestly come by, and the receiver is as bad as 
 the thief." 
 
 " Well," replied Rufus, "I'll run the risk this 
 time. If Robbins lets his fences down he 
 deserves to suffer. Anyway, the cows didn't 
 know they were doing wrong." 
 
 ' ' Trust a Methody preacher to find a way out 
 of a difficulty," said Joe. '* But how's the roses ? 
 Good show this year ? " 
 
 " There's a fine promise," said Rufus. " The 
 stocks are good, and the buddin's all I could 
 wish. A little more rain is desirable." 
 
 Just then a lad entered the room, bringing a 
 letter. Joe opened it, lifted his eyebrows, and 
 the corner of his lips twitched nervously, as if 
 he wanted to smile, and would not. 
 
 " All right," he said to the lad, " you can 
 go. Ask Mary Ann to give you a chunk of 
 bread and cheese if you are hungry. Then take 
 a paddle and cut the thistles in that nine acre 
 field. And mind you DO cut them. A little 
 extra trouble in the spring saves a big lot in the 
 harvest." 
 
 * ' That's true," said Rufus, * ' thistles and 
 bad habits should be stopped when they're 
 young. But who is that lad ? "
 
 AND HE SPAKE IN PARABLES. 123 
 
 " Widder Brassing's son." 
 
 " What, the one that's been in jail for poach- 
 ing ? " 
 
 ' Ay, looks a desperate creature, doesn't 
 he ? You see no one else would have him, and 
 so I took him on. I get him cheap that way." 
 
 " Go on," said Rufus, " I know all your 
 tricks. You took him on because you like to 
 do a kind deed, and don't like to own up. And 
 I'll be bound you give him as much as he's 
 worth." 
 
 " One shilling a week and his keep, and he's 
 worth four." 
 
 " And you give the rest to his mother, or I'm 
 a " 
 
 " Rufe," said Joe, " you are gettin' too sharp 
 to live. Do you ever shave yourself without a 
 razor ? " 
 
 Rufus laughed. " I think," he said, " you'd 
 rather be shot than own up to doing a generous 
 deed." 
 
 " Pooh!" replied Joe, "if I do give the 
 widder a little towards her rent, I don't want 
 the dogs to bark it all over the county. But the 
 lad's a decent sort, and the man that sent him 
 to jail deserves penal servitude for life. He 
 heard a hare in a trap squealing, and he went 
 to let it out. Young keeper comes along and 
 catches him, and accuses him of poaching. The 
 lad declares he had no intention of takin' the 
 hare, but was touched by its piteous cries. 
 Well, he's summoned before a bench of fox- 
 hunting' squires, who would rather hear of a 
 lad killin' a baby than a hare. So they sent 
 him to jail for six weeks, and the widow nearly
 
 I2 4 
 
 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 broke her heart. So when the youngster came 
 out of jail, Gibbens tells him he is sorry, but 
 the keeper has told him if he takes him on again 
 he will lose his farm. That's real up-to-date 
 English fair play. So I hears of it, and I sends 
 for the lad and gives him a job. 
 
 " But your farm is under Mrs. Wincanton, 
 isn't it ? " 
 
 " Ay, and I hadn't had the lad two days when 
 I had Neddy Williams, the keeper, on my track. 
 I think he'll not forget the interview in a hurry. 
 I gave him a few sugar plums away in his pocket. 
 Guess he'll tell the young squire my opinion of 
 him in italics, and it won't bear puttin' in 
 print, for I was warm, and hadn't said my 
 prayers that morning. There are occasions when 
 there isn't any religious word big enough to let 
 out your feelings. 
 
 " I hav'nt felt the disadvantage myself," re- 
 joined Rufus drily. " There are a few psalms 
 that supply all I have ever needed. But you'll 
 likely get notice to quit." 
 
 " Maybe," answered Joe carelessly. " But 
 if I do, you'll not let me go to the wurkuss, eh, 
 Rufe ? '" 
 
 " Joe Wentworth," said Rufus, " I'm proud 
 to call you brother. You've your own way of 
 doing things, but you're nearer the kingdom of 
 heaven than many make that a great profession. 
 You'd make a grand Christian if you'd only 
 come out on the Lord's side." 
 
 " Why," drawled Joe, " if they were all like 
 you I might ; but there's some really measly 
 ones among you. The only time I ever got 
 cheated was by a Christian. He was too fly for
 
 AND HE SPAKE IN PARABLES. 125 
 
 me, and he'd such a gift for quoting Scripture 
 you'd have thought he'd a Bible inside o' him, 
 and that he was too good for anything less than 
 the company of angels." 
 
 " Joe," said Rufus, " did you like them taties 
 I sent you the other week ? " 
 
 " Champion," replied Joe. " I had sum 
 biled, and they turned out like balls of flour. 
 I wish you'd sell me a sack." 
 
 " Na-ay," said Rufus, " I wouldn't think of 
 it. Why, man, when I picked them out o' the 
 tatie pie there was nearly a peck of rotten ones. 
 You'd never think of buying taties that has 
 rotten ones amongst them, would you ? I 
 wonder you'd eat 'em at all." 
 
 ' ' Had agin, Rufe ; I see taties and Christians 
 need soarting, eh ? That's the pint. But aboot 
 this lad. I have not lost any sleep over him, 
 and I'll tell you why. The young squire is 
 pretty heavily in my ribs for horses, and a little 
 sumthing he borrowed one day he'd run out, 
 and he binna flush just now. So maybe my 
 opinion of him won't cost me much, and will 
 do him good. Anyhow, he's welcome to it. 
 And if he cuts up nasty ; well, tell the princess 
 I'll cum and offer marriage to her, and we'll live 
 in a cottage, and eat taties and bacon, and 
 cucumbers, for dinner every day. The lad's 
 here, and here he'll stop. Going, eh ? Well, 
 ta-ta. I'll bring the five pounds when I come 
 next week." 
 
 The brothers shook hands and parted. 
 
 "Good man, Rufe," said Joe, "and he's 
 let me off cheap this time. I thowt he'd 
 ask fur a tenner. And he'd have got it.
 
 126 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Can't refuse Rufe any more than a cat can 
 
 cream." 
 
 " Wish Joe would join the church," muttered 
 Rufus. " He'd make a front row Christian, if 
 he'd give up horse buying."
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 < 'MANY HAPPY RETURNS OF THE 
 DAY." 
 
 " A young maiden's heart 
 
 Is the rich soil wherein lie many germs, 
 
 Hid by the cunning hand of Nature there, 
 
 To put forth blossoms in their fittest seasons," 
 
 KEMBLB. 
 
 THE birthday arrived, or what was kept as 
 such, being the day Rufus found Gwen in his 
 garden, and Joe Wentworth turned up in what 
 he termed his * ' going-to-meeting " suit, which 
 consisted of a tight-fitting coat, a red waistcoat, 
 and knee breeches, and a very showy necktie. 
 The horsey man always carries the atmosphere 
 of the stable about with him. He was riding 
 the bonniest little Welsh pony that ever crossed 
 the border. 
 
 " Hallo, Rufe ! " he cried, " have you room 
 in your greenhouse for a hoss that hasn't taken 
 its growth properly ? " 
 
 ' ' Why," said Rufe, ' * he does seem a bit 
 dwarfed. He might get inside the pigstye with- 
 out lifting the roof. Whatever made you buy 
 such a hobby-horse as that ? " 
 
 "Well," rejoined the brother, "I bought 
 it for a young lady, and, as I wanted to be sure 
 it was quite safe, and wouldn't want to jump 
 every nine-foot wall it came to, I rode it here 
 to-day. It binna as tall as a giraffe, but every
 
 128 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 bit from nose to tail is hoss flesh, and Ai quality, 
 and it can get over the ground quicker than a 
 tortoise. We passed a few snails on the way." 
 
 " It's bonnie," said Rufus. " There's is 
 nothing in the old stable but a few tomato 
 plants ; but I've nowt to give it to eat ; we 
 must send for some wuts " (oats.) 
 
 1 * Oh ! he'll take no harm for a bit. He's 
 been laying in a store all morning ; but you'll 
 need to get in some provender, for I've no room 
 for a nacker like that at my place, and I mean 
 to leave him here." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Rufus, " leave him 
 here ? " 
 
 " Ay," laughed Joe, " don't you let the cat 
 out of the bag, but I've bought that animal as 
 a kind of lover's present for the princess. Thowt 
 you'd manage to house and feed it, and, maybe, 
 find exercise enough for it to keep its legs from 
 swellin' by ridin' it to your appointments. 
 I'll send some hay and wuts for it now and agin." 
 
 ' ' Joe," said Rufus, ( ' I can't have you comin' 
 round here and spoiling my little girl in this 
 manner. There's hardly any living' in this 
 house with her now. Directly she knew you 
 were coming, she starts and makes puffs and 
 tarts and seed cake, and a great beef-steak pie, 
 and spice bread, and tatie cake, and other 
 poisonous stuff of that sort, and orders me 
 into the garden, and when I tell her I won't 
 stand it any longer, and give her a month's 
 notice, she's as cheeky as you please. She says 
 1 Then I'll go to Uncle Joe's. He'd be glad 
 enuff to have me.' It's a kind of conspiracy, 
 nothing less, between you two."
 
 MANY HAPPY RETURNS. % 129 
 
 " Right," said Joe, laughing. " She knows 
 that a way to a man's heart is through his 
 stomach. For bribery and corruption there 
 binna nothin' to touch a good beef-steak pie, 
 served up with smiles. I daresay there are men 
 that can resist it, but I ain't made that way. 
 But yonder is the young lady herself, looking 
 like an angel in her best clothes. Hello, 
 Queenie ! " he shouted. ' ' Dad here has been 
 givin' you a desperate character. He's a fine 
 sample of a backbiter for a local preacher, and 
 would take first prize for defamation of character. 
 Of course, I don't believe one word of it. But 
 if I were you I would comb his hair wi' the garden 
 rake. But hanna you got a kiss for your broken- 
 hearted admirer, eh ? You have not kissed me 
 since well, I won't tell when it was." 
 
 Gwen laughed, and said, " I don't mind what 
 dad says about me. My character is above 
 suspicion. But I'll kiss you on one condition." 
 
 " I surrender unconditionally," said Joe. 
 " I'm like Adam in the Garden of Eden, when 
 Eve said take a bite. My opinion is that if it 
 had been a milestone instead of an apple he 
 would have tried his teeth on it. But what is 
 it ? Another fiver for the foundation stone, eh ? 
 Now, be merciful. 
 
 " No, something easier than that." 
 
 " You don't want me to put my hair in curl, 
 do you, cos it wouldn't suit my complexion ? 
 But let's have the kiss to be going on wi'." 
 
 " Not till you promise." 
 
 * * Well, it's hard on a chap, but I reckon I 
 must. Hope you don't want the weddin' to be 
 earlier than next week cos I shall want a new
 
 130 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 pair of corduroy trousers, and a velveteen coat 
 with pearl buttons, to be married in. I always 
 said I would when I was a lad, and I will. There 
 was a handsome widder down Shrewsbury way 
 that once took a particular fancy to yours truly, 
 and she got all fixed up, but when I told her 
 what I wanted to be married in, she became 
 kind o' huffy, and said it was an outrage, and 
 threw up the cards. She thowt I should change 
 my mind about the clothes, but I didn't, and 
 so I'm still a poor lone bachelor." 
 
 " You're a bad man, and I've a good mind 
 not to kiss you at all. I only want you to 
 promise that if the vicar calls and I expect he 
 will you won't tease him. It's such bad 
 manners you know." 
 
 " Rats ! " exclaimed Joe. " Well, I promise 
 to be as good as a Sunday-school scholar at 
 treat time if the vicar leaves me alone. But it's 
 a fact that parsons Church, Methody, or Bap- 
 tist, never can keep off the bones of a poor chap 
 like me. They are all so anxious either to save 
 my soul or put their hands in my pocket that 
 I've no peace. I mean to take out a protection 
 order against them. The vicar's best of all I 
 know. He never asked for anything but his 
 tithe, but he's a rank Tory. The Methody 
 fellow says nasty things in a nice manner, like 
 takin' pills in jam, but the Baptist man, he goes 
 straight for you, and tells you that it is either 
 water in this life or fire in the next. I rather 
 like him, although he doesn't hold out the faintest 
 hope that I shall hear the singin' in the other 
 world. I went to hear him preach one night, 
 and I tell you his sermon was a scalper. He
 
 MANY HAPPY RETURNS. 131 
 
 was dead nuts on sinners, and the place fair 
 smelt o' brimstone before he'd done. I gave 
 an extra shillin' in the collection to help to pay 
 for it. That's my way. If a chap's going in 
 for a thing, whether it be stocks and shares in 
 the Millennium or Derby winners, I like whole- 
 hoggers." 
 
 " You get worse, I declare," said Gwen. 
 
 " Ay," said Joe, " 'tis so, I fear. I'm a 
 walkin' commentory on the text, ' Evil com- 
 munication corrupteth good manners.' Ever 
 since I've known you I've gone the wrong way. 
 But you have not given me that kiss yet, and 
 I'm longin' for it as much as a boy does for 
 chewin' gum." 
 
 "There," said Gwen, kissing him; "it's 
 more than you deserve. Now, remember, you've 
 promised to be good." 
 
 " My," said Joe, " that's better than straw- 
 berries and cream, but you might have kept 
 on a bit when you were started. It was hardly 
 worth while getting your mouth into shape just 
 for one. But come here, I want to show you 
 a nice hoss I've bought for a lady acquaintance 
 of mine, and should like your opinion. Only 
 mind you don't tread on him. He's so small 
 and you've sich big fe " 
 
 Before he could finish the sentence he had 
 received a smart box on the ears. 
 
 " Oh ! what a lovely little creature ! " ex- 
 claimed Gwen, as Joe threw open the door and 
 showed the pony. " How I should like to ride 
 on his back. Did you ride him here, Uncle 
 Joe ? " 
 
 "Well," said Joe, "partly. When he felt
 
 132 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 faint and weary I let down my legs and walked 
 a spell ; but he binna one of those ponies that 
 wants to stop and lean himself against every 
 gatepost he comes to. He can go. I overtook 
 a man pushing a wheelbarrow full o' turnips, 
 and we left him a few yards behind. You 
 see, I couldn't bring him along any other way. 
 If I'd put him in my pocket he might have 
 smothered. Rufe there has promised to find 
 him house room, and I'll find him something to 
 keep his teeth from getting rusty, if you don't 
 mind trottin' him out occasionally, and if you 
 get tired o' him, make him into a rabbit pie. 
 Nobody 'ull be any the wiser." 
 
 " But," began Gwen. 
 
 " It's a birthday present from Joe," said 
 Rufus, " only he's too delicate to say it." 
 
 " Oh ! you dear ! " exclaimed Gwen. " I'll 
 give you a dozen kisses if you like. I am 
 delighted. You could not have bought me 
 anything that would have pleased me more. 
 There one, two, three, four " 
 
 " Hold on," said Joe, " I feel like a wasp 
 that has found a full treacle cask. There is too 
 much sweetness for a meal. Couldn't you 
 divide 'em ? " 
 
 " You shall have them all six, seven, eight, 
 nine, ten, eleven, twelve, and one more." 
 
 " That's what I call capital punishment, as 
 the lad said when his mother shut him up in the 
 pantry and he found a raspberry pie. Now let 
 us go in and have something to eat. I've passed 
 the stage when kisses will keep me at working 
 pressure." 
 
 It was a happy birthday party that gathered
 
 MANY HAPPY RETURNS. 133 
 
 round the table in the parlour at tea time. 
 There were all Rufus' special cronies and some 
 of Gwen's friends, so, as Joe said, " both ends 
 of life were represented." 
 
 When the vicar came, Joe said, " Now, Vic., 
 you've to keep your hands off me to-day. Fve 
 promised not to molest you, on condition that 
 you don't present an order for tithe, or want me 
 to become a Conservative, or to come to church 
 more than twice a Sunday for fifty-two Sundays 
 in the year, or to vote against Disestablishment 
 at the next Election. But if you begin on me, 
 I'm sure to retaliate. I couldn't stand it any 
 more than a bull can a red rag. I've given you 
 fair warning." 
 
 The vicar smilingly bowed to Joe, and said : 
 " Mr. Wentworth, your sense of fitness of 
 things is so well known that I can hardly con- 
 ceive there could be any necessity for obtaining 
 a promise from you not to introduce contro- 
 versial subjects on such an auspicious occasion 
 as this." 
 
 Joe bowed in return, and said : "I told 'em 
 so, but everybody thinks beca'as I won't be 
 boiled down for tallow for foaks to make 
 tuppenny ha'penny candles that I'm a pug- 
 nacious man. There isn't a milder-tempered 
 better behaved man in the parish, now is there, 
 Vic., when I'm not trodden on ? " 
 
 " Well," replied the vicar laughing, "I think 
 I can say there is not a man in the parish who 
 is more ready to give himself a good character, 
 Mr. Wentworth." 
 
 " Beca'as there's nobody knaws it as wellfas 
 I do," replied the unabashed Joe. " I always
 
 134 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 speak about what I knaw. If preachers did 
 that there wouldn't be much in some sermons, 
 would there, sir ? " 
 
 " It seems to me, Mr. Wentworth, you are 
 introducing one of those controversial topics 
 you assured us you were so anxious to avoid. 
 At another time we might possibly debate the 
 matter, but to-day I have not time, I regret, to 
 remain. I just called in to wish Miss Gwen 
 many happy returns of the day, and to ask her 
 acceptance of this book of poetry. It is written 
 by an old college friend of mine, Mr. Arthur 
 Tennyson, and, I venture to say, has in it great 
 promise." 
 
 " Oh ! thank you very much," rejoined 
 Gwen, curtseying. " I am sure I shall enjoy 
 it very much. But you will sit down and have 
 some cake, and a glass of mother's elderberry 
 wine." 
 
 " I regret I must decline, thank you. News 
 has just reached me that the poor fellow Stockall 
 has been found hanging in his barn, having, I 
 fear, taken his own life, and I am on my way to 
 comfort the widow." 
 
 Various exclamations of surprise and sym- 
 pathy broke from the members of the company, 
 and the vicar went on : " Yes, it's a bad case. 
 He has been unable, through sickness, to pay 
 his rent, and Mrs. Wincanton has sent and seized 
 his two cows and given him notice to be out in 
 a month. This so preyed upon his mind that 
 the poor fellow has ended his life." 
 
 Joe uttered an exclamation so forcible that 
 the clergyman turned and said : " Sir, if I had 
 not been a minister of the Gospel I should have
 
 MANY HAPPY RETURNS. 135 
 
 said the same thing, though it had imperilled 
 my soul." 
 
 11 Can I be of any service if I come along, 
 sir ? " asked Rufus. 
 
 " At another time I should have said yes, 
 but I must not take you from this happy gather- 
 ing, or Miss Gwen will not forgive me. As it is, 
 I must apologise for throwing a shadow over 
 your happiness. I will call for your advice in 
 relation to the poor widow and the fatherless 
 children." 
 
 ' * The old lord was bad enuff," said Joe, when 
 the vicar had departed, " but this woman's wuss. 
 He would skin a gnat for the hide, but she would 
 make broth of the bones. The tales I hear about 
 the way she is grinding down the cottagers 
 would shame the Sultan o' Turkey. And her 
 son is worthy of his mother. I never see him 
 but I want to horsewhip him. He comes 
 shambling about my place as though he was lord 
 of the hemisphere. He has about as much 
 sense in his head as he has money in his pocket, 
 and that wouldn't take a bank clerk a fortnight 
 
 to count." 
 
 During this tirade on Harold Wincanton 
 Gwen hung down her head and toyed with the 
 rose in her dress ; but it was not lost on Uncle 
 Joe that her cheeks were flushed and her fingers 
 trembled." 
 
 " I'm afraid," replied Rufus, " that what 
 you say is true. He strikes me as poor stuff 
 out of which to make a man, but the Lord may 
 take a dealing with him some day, and there's 
 no telling what he may become." 
 
 " Even the Lord cannot make a lion out of
 
 136 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 a mouse at least, I've never seen it done. 
 I've heard that he was going away to be married, 
 and I thought we should be well rid o' him, 
 though God help the woman who gets him, 
 say I, but I think it was only a country clash." 
 
 The thin, nervous ringers of Gwen plucked the 
 rose bud until it fell to pieces, and the beautiful 
 face dropped, until it was impossible to see the 
 expression upon it, and so he went heedlessly on. 
 
 " If I had a daughter, I would give her a big 
 dose of rat poison rather than that she should 
 marry such a rake and fool. I wonder that any 
 decent woman could be found to walk on the 
 same highway as he, much less to love, honour, 
 and obey. But it's strange the wuss a man is 
 the easier it seems to get a wife. There's 
 princess, I'll be bound she hallo ! the gal's 
 gone ! " 
 
 " Ay," said Rufus, " the vicar's news has 
 upset her. She cannot abear trouble. Her 
 heart is so tender." 
 
 Joe did not answer, but sat for some time in 
 a very thoughtful mood. After a time Gwen 
 came back, and he noticed her eyes were red, as 
 though she had been weeping. When he asked 
 her to sing, she excused herself, saying she had 
 a headache. When the party broke up, Joe 
 refused to accept the pressing invitation of his 
 brother to stay the night with him, and so Rufus 
 walked part of the way home with him. 
 
 " I'm thinkin' o' buying Stockall's place," 
 said Joe, after a pause in the conversation. 
 
 "What for? "asked Rufus. "Are you 
 going to leave the Red Acres ? ' 
 
 "No," said Joe, "not yet. But there's a
 
 MANY HAPPY RETURNS. 137 
 
 Staffordshire fellow after Stockall's farm, and 
 I know Lady Jezebel would be glad of some 
 ready money, for that young spendthrift of hers 
 keeps her as clean as a pig trough after a sow 
 and pigs have had their dinner, and Stockall got 
 his notice last week. I guess that was in his 
 mind when he put the rope round his neck. He 
 was not a bad 'un, of a soart, but the soart 
 wasn't very valuable. Well, I had a kind o' 
 hankering to be a landlord myself, and I put 
 the matter in Lawyer Neal's hands last week 
 to buy over the Staffordshire fellow's head, if 
 he did not stand over seven feet high. 
 
 11 I see," replied Rufus, " and you would 
 have let Stockall stay on till he had pulled him- 
 self round." 
 
 "Well," replied Joe, " I don't say that I 
 should have kicked his pots and pans into the 
 ditch and turned his wife and children into a 
 ten-acre field to feed on turnips. That binna 
 my way. Stockall was not up the morning the 
 Lord shared out gumpshun, that's certain. He 
 woke when most of it was disposed of. But I 
 thowt I could come to some arrangement with 
 him, whereby I could put brains in, if he'd find 
 the labour and manure, and between us we might 
 have made a shilling grow into fourteenpence. 
 But the silly fellow has gone and throttled my 
 plan as well as himself. If there had to be 
 hanging done, he should have hung his 
 landlady. There would ha' been some sense 
 in that." 
 
 " What will you do now ? " asked Rufus. 
 
 " Why, that's the question," he said. " You 
 remember the time when you and I were sent
 
 138 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 off on our own, when they talked o' taking us 
 to the workuss, the day they buried mother I 
 bolted. I would have taken you as well, but 
 you wouldn't come. It was a bitter cold day, 
 and I had nowt to eat 'cept a raw tatie, and half 
 that was rotten. As I ran through the village, 
 I saw a little girl sittin' on a doorstep, eatin' a 
 piece o' bread and treacle. That pulled me up 
 quick, though I was mighty feared they would 
 be after me to take me to the workuss. Well, I 
 stood looking hard, and the little lass saw me, 
 and held out her piece for me to take a bite. I 
 bit big, and it tasted good. Then I could not 
 resist it. I snatched the bread out of the child's 
 hand and scuttled hard, like a hare with a grey- 
 hound at its heels. It was my first theft. I've 
 never stolen since, not 'cept its been in the way 
 o' hoss dealin'. But I guess if those who talk 
 high and mighty had felt as hollow as I did, and 
 had a piece o' bread and treacle thrust into their 
 mouth, they would have swallowed it at a bite 
 I heard the child cry, but I had urgent business 
 in a plantation two miles away when I finished 
 the piece and licked my fingers after. That girl 
 grew up to be a decent lass, and she married 
 Harry Stockall, the worst day's work she ever did. 
 Well, do you see, I owe her for that piece of 
 bread and treacle. I'm going to pay off an old 
 debt. So I want you to step round in the morn- 
 ing and tell her not to worry about the notice 
 to quit. She shall stay as long as she likes. 
 But mind, don't say anything about me. I 
 donna want any widders, wi' gratitude an' all 
 the rest o' it, coming gallivantin' about my place. 
 I might lose my character wi' the vicar if he heard
 
 MANY HAPPY RETURNS. i 39 
 
 I was encouraging handsome widders round my 
 farm." 
 
 " But what if the other man has bought the 
 place ? " asked Rufus. " You might be too 
 late." 
 
 " Oh ! I know he hasn't. He was comin* to 
 see it on Monday, and if this thing binna settled 
 by Saturday night there will be a prayer meetin' 
 in Lawyer Neal's office." 
 
 " But if Lady Wincanton knows," commenced 
 Rufus. 
 
 " Chuck," said Joe. " Your brother wasn't 
 born on April 1st. I hold a bit of paper or two 
 that would make Lady Jezebel open her eyes if 
 she saw 'em. But now, Rufe, mind if you let 
 anyone know I have anything to do wi' this 
 matter, I'll " 
 
 " What ? " said Rufus with a smile. 
 
 " Cut your acquaintance. Pll disown you. 
 Pll never look the side of the road you're on, 
 and some day when you are preaching Pll get 
 up and denounce you as a breaker of contracts. 
 Pve come to you as my Father Confessor, and 
 you've got to help me to make restitution wi'oot 
 blabbin' either." 
 
 " Pve always heard that public apology 
 should follow public wrong, and that the con- 
 fession should be as open as the crime," said 
 Rufus. " Seems to me, Joe Wentworth, you 
 want to sneak into heaven by a back door," 
 
 "Well," replied Joe, "the front gate is 
 blocked by foaks all yellin' out what good they've 
 done. They are dreadfully afraid the Recording 
 Angel was asleep when they gave their tanners 
 and half-crowns to help a lame dog over a stile,"
 
 140 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 6 I'll do it," said Rufus, ' and keep my 
 mouth as close as a rat trap. But it will come 
 out some day, as sure as cowslips in the spring. 
 " Not till my toes are ticklin' the roots o' 
 the daisies I hope," returned Joe. " Now, 
 Rufe, you think yourself a wise man, so take 
 this to think over as you walk home ' If I had 
 a prize bunny at home, I should keep a sharp 
 watch out for weasels.' "
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 A SNAKE AMIDST THE FLOWERS. 
 
 " All our actions take 
 
 Their hues from the complexion of the heart, 
 As landscapes their variety from light." 
 
 BACON. 
 
 THERE was to be a flower show at Summer- 
 town. Rufus had suggested it to the vicar, 
 who had fallen eagerly in with the suggestion, 
 and soon a committee was busy at work, making 
 arrangements. For many weeks it formed the 
 one topic of conversation in the village and 
 neighbourhood. 
 
 " Rufe Wentworth knew what he was about, " 
 said Bill Newhams, who never did a generous 
 thing in his life, and could not understand 
 generosity in others. " He'll get all the prizes 
 himself, and nobody else will have a chance. He 
 was not born yesterday." 
 
 "Well, Bill," rejoined John Cartwright, 
 " there's one thing that Rufe conno beat you 
 in, and that's nettles. I had a look into your 
 garden yesterday, and I'll be prepared to back 
 it for rankness and quantity of weeds against 
 anything in this parish." 
 
 " It wonno grow nowt," replied Bill. " It's 
 as poor as poverty itself, and the rent I pay for 
 it is shameful." 
 
 " All nonsense," replied Cartwright, " there 
 isn't a bit of better land in the village, if it was
 
 I 4 2 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 properly worked. All it wants is manure and 
 elbow grease. I wish I could get hold of it, 
 that's all." 
 
 11 Thou's welcome to it for all I care. I never 
 had a good crop off it yet. It was starved before 
 I got it, and I found time and money wasted on 
 it. It wonno sprit a wut (oat)." 
 
 " No, it binna likely," rejoined Cartwright. 
 " It's wi' the ground, as wi' everything else. 
 You get as much out of it as you put in. Treat 
 it badly and it will treat you badly. Use it 
 well, and it will use you well. At least that is 
 what I have found. There's Jones' patch just 
 over the hedge, it's a credit to any man, and 
 better crops I never wish to see." 
 
 " Ay," answered Billy, " so would mine be 
 if I had stolen the manure to put into it. But 
 I'm too honest for that." 
 
 " Thou binna too modest to blow thy own 
 trumpet," Cartwright replied, as he moved 
 away. " If they would give a prize for brag 
 and laziness at the flower show, I could guess 
 at twice who would win it." 
 
 When this conversation was repeated to Rufus, 
 he was much amused. 
 
 " No," he said, " I didna think of competing 
 in the class where Bill would shine ; docks, and 
 thistles, or squitch. Solomon, long ago, saw 
 that a fool couldna have a garden wi'oot it 
 telling everyone that he was a fool. It would 
 come hard on Bill if he took the ague, for he 
 would be too lazy to do the shaking himself. If 
 his head itches, I guess it's too much trouble 
 for him to scratch it. There is only one thing 
 he isn't too lazy to do, and that is stick his nose
 
 A SNAKE AMIDST THE FLOWERS. 143 
 
 into a pint pot. But about this flower show. I 
 shall not compete in anything 'cept grapes. No 
 poor man grows 'em, and I guess the rich have 
 as good a chance as I. Lady Wincanton's Jim 
 has been swaggering that there binna no grapes 
 in this country that wouldna look like black- 
 berries alongside of his. A man that grows 
 grapes is like a man that grows daughters, he 
 thinks they are non-suchers. There is not any- 
 thing I know that will give a man colour blind- 
 ness in the matter of size like grapes. His own 
 somehow seem always bigger and richer than 
 his neighbour's. So I wouldna like to brag, but 
 I've an opinion that mine will make Jim whistle 
 on the wrong side of his mouth. But there's 
 no saying, for Jim's as confident his grapes will 
 get first prize as I am that Setterday comes after 
 Friday. So there's nowt for it but to let the 
 judge decide between us. But as for any- 
 thing else, I shanna enter. It would be a mean 
 advantage to take of men who are not as well 
 placed as myself." 
 
 When this decision was known, some who had 
 held back entered, and the flower show promised 
 to be a success in every way. A brass band 
 from Whitehurst, noted for the vigour of its 
 attack, was engaged for the occasion, and the 
 whole countryside had holiday. 
 
 Rufus and the vicar took a preliminary walk 
 round. It was only when inspecting the roses 
 that his face clouded. The best stand was 
 undoubtedly Billy Porter's, a drunken ne'er- 
 do-well, who had once been a gardener at the 
 Hall. 
 
 ' ' What is the matter, Wentworth ? ' ' asked
 
 144 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 the vicar, as he saw him look unusually close at 
 this collection. 
 
 " I thowt I saw a sarpint among those flowers," 
 said Rufus, " and sure enuff he's there." 
 
 " Where ? " exclaimed the vicar, peering 
 closely at the moss. " It must be a small 
 adder." 
 
 "Nay, sir, it binna," replied Rufus; "it's 
 the same owd reptile that crept into Eden. It's 
 the devil, and nowt else." 
 
 " You don't mean to say " 
 
 "Ay," said Rufus, "I do. Billy Porter 
 ain't got a stock in his garden that produced that 
 rose. I sauntered round last week and had a 
 look at his lot. He'd some decent Marechal Niels 
 and some Indica Odorata, but his Catherine 
 Mermets were not worth twopence a dozen. 
 And that binna his'n either. If I don't mistake 
 I've seen it growing not forty yards from my 
 own back door." 
 
 The vicar's face lengthened, and he said, 
 ' ' Wentworth, I'm sorry, if what you say is true. 
 Are you sure you are not mistaken ? ' 
 
 " Well," he said, " roses is much alike, I 
 allow, but I can generally pick my own out any- 
 where, for you see I live among them. There 
 binna many buds but what I watch grow until 
 I know their shape and size, and colour exactly. 
 There is one flower that never grew in my 
 garden, or Billy Porter's either. It's come from 
 the vicarage or from the Hall." 
 
 " Mine ? " gasped the vicar. " It surely 
 hasn't come from my garden." 
 
 " Well," said Rufus, " I won't say it has, nor 
 it hasn't, but I will say Billy Porter never in all
 
 A SNAKE AMIDST THE FLOWERS. 145 
 
 his life grew a flower as perfect as that. He has 
 only three trees of that species, and I gave him 
 them, and they never did produce anything 
 beyond middlin' or fair." 
 
 1 ' What's to be done ? ' ' asked the vicar. 
 " He ought to be disqualified, of course, but 
 how can we prove it ? ' 
 
 "Easy," said Rufus. "We will give him 
 the credit o' the nine, but we will take these three, 
 and go and look where I think they came from. 
 This has been cut with a knife that wasn't too 
 sharp. You see, instead of being clean cut, the 
 bark is ragged, and he has had two tries at it. 
 Guess the tree will show it. Then we will go 
 and see Billy's garden, and ask him to show us 
 where it grew." 
 
 So the two hurried off, first to Rufus' garden. 
 Amidst a score of trees all bearing roses, Rufus, 
 at the first trial, picked out the tree from which 
 the stolen blossom had come, and pointed at 
 once to the place from where it had been 
 cut. 
 
 " Don't need much more evidence," he said. 
 " They fit together like foot and slipper. Billy 
 has made a good choice, though he did it in the 
 dark. There is only one better rose on the tree 
 than that. I know'd it as soon as I set eyes 
 on it." 
 
 " Your knowledge is most wonderful to me," 
 said the vicar. " I grow roses, 'tis true, but I 
 could not tell whether any particular blossom 
 had come from the vicarage, any more than I 
 could tell what field a particular blade of grass 
 grew in." 
 
 " I love 'em," Rufus explained, " and I've 
 
 K
 
 146 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 heard Gwen read from Shakespeare, " Love 
 gives a priceless seeing to the eye." 
 
 " But so do I love them." 
 
 " Ay," said Rufus, " in a general kind o' way. 
 But you love roses, and I love the rose. Every 
 particular one. I often think that is what the 
 Saviour meant when He said, ' I know My 
 sheep, and am known of Mine.' There are many 
 who love men in the lump, but Christ loves 
 them separately." 
 
 " Thank you, my friend," said the vicar, 
 " for a new light upon an old text. But what 
 shall we do next ? ' 
 
 " Humph, no need to go to the vicarage for 
 more evidence, I think. Look, here is another 
 proof, a footprint in this bed. That binna mine, 
 and nobody's about the place. Heel plates and 
 toe plates ; five rows of nails. There binna 
 nobody 'cept Billy and Ned Porter with a foot 
 fourteen inches long in this village, which I 
 calculate is about the length of this one. Seems 
 to me Billy ought to have had his bedroom 
 slippers on if he didn't want tracing." 
 
 The two straightway made their way to Porter's 
 cottage. Billy's lad was cleaning his father's 
 boots for the show. 
 
 " Hallo! Eddie," said Rufus. "Nice job 
 that you've got. Like it, eh ? ' 
 
 The lad looked as if he had been crying, and 
 did not relish the work at all. 
 
 " You'll never get a shine that way. Let me 
 have hold of it. Now then, this is the way to 
 rub blacking in. Know the best thing to make 
 blacking shine ? Well, it's elbow grease. I 
 learned to clean boots when I was no higher than
 
 A SNAKE AMIDST THE FLOWERS. 147 
 
 badly I got a rap on the 
 head wi' the brushes. I was brought up on 
 blows, and hard words, and table scrapins. Here 
 you are, lad. Got a ticket for the flower show ? 
 No. Well, here's one, and a penny to buy 
 ginger nuts wi'. Now don't forget the elbow 
 grease. Father in ? Just run and tell him the 
 vicar wants him. These are Billy's best boots, 
 but the size is fourteen inches." 
 
 Porter came out, and touched his cap to the 
 vicar, but his face dropped when he saw Rufus. 
 
 11 We've been admiring that stand o' roses o' 
 yours up at the show," said Rufus. " The vicar 
 and I are agreed thet, all in all, they look like 
 furst-prizers. So we've walked round to see 
 if you've any more like 'em." 
 
 " Sum," replied Billy, his face brightening. 
 " Of course, I've sent the best, but I have got 
 a few more left. I have half a dozen thet would 
 take some matchin', even in your garden, Mr. 
 Wentworth." 
 
 "Glad to hear it," replied Rufus. "I've 
 a few Marechal blossoms that needn't blush to 
 show themselves. But if it won't take too much 
 of your time, the vicar and I would like to see 
 your posies." 
 
 " Come this way, then. That's a good 'un, 
 that Marechal Niel. I did think I'd send it, 
 but I sent a Souvenir d'un Ami instead. It 
 wasn't so good, but rarer." 
 
 " Right," replied the vicar. " Well, I must 
 say you've got a decent lot, and there is great 
 credit due to you.
 
 148 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 j-* 
 
 ^" Great credit," said Rufus. 
 ^After Porter had shown them round, and they 
 had duly admired and praised all that was worthy 
 of praise, they were about to wish him good 
 morning, when Rufus, as though he had for- 
 gotten, said, ' ( Oh ! but do you mind showing 
 us your Indicas and Catherine Mermets ? I am 
 specially interested in them just now." 
 
 Bill looked about as comfortable as a live eel 
 in a frying pan, and shuffling from one foot to 
 another , said, ' ' Well, there binna nowt to look 
 at. I've cut the only fine one there was for the 
 show." 
 
 " Come," said Rufus, " you're too modest. 
 A man that can grow a Catherine Mermet like 
 that in the Show ought to have his tree in the 
 front of the garden. Show us the trees. The 
 vicar and I are specially anxious to see 'em." 
 
 Bill turned red and then white, and stood 
 silent. 
 
 " Now, vicar," said Rufus, " it's your turn. 
 I caught the fox. It is for you to put salt on 
 his tail." 
 
 The next ten minutes were the most uncom- 
 fortable of Billy's life. 
 
 " I didn't know," said Rufus afterwards, 
 " that the vicar could get angry. He gave Billy 
 Porter such a lecture as I hanna heard for a 
 piece. If he would preach like that I'd go and 
 hear him. He would empty the church the first 
 Sunday and fill it the next. I felt sorry for Billy 
 before he had done with him. I said nothing 
 except I gave him the advice the next time he 
 came gathering roses not to wear fourteen inch 
 boots with toe and heel plates and five
 
 A SNAKE AMIDST THE FLOWERS. 149 
 
 rows of nails. But he did not look very amiable, 
 dida't Billy, so we left him. The last words of 
 the minister were calculated to stick for a bit : 
 ' It may be interesting for you to know,' said 
 the vicar, and he looked nine feet high when he 
 said it, ' that if you had been honest you would 
 undoubtedly have won the first prize. Now I 
 shall take care that your exhibits are disqualified, 
 not only from this, but from succeeding shows 
 for three years to come. I feel humbled that I 
 should have a man in my parish who would 
 condescend to do such a thing.' " 
 
 ' You won't see Billy at church for some time 
 to come," said Rufus, as the two walked back. 
 " You've rubbed him a bit sore, but maybe it 
 will do him good." 
 
 The show was in every way a great success. 
 Rufus carried off the first prize for his grapes, 
 and even the gardener from the Hall admitted 
 the fairness of the award, and congratulated 
 him upon his success. But that night Rufus had 
 five of his glasshouses broken, and a number of 
 valuable trees damaged. Sad havoc was also 
 made of a promising lot of young and rare plants. 
 There was no doubt in the mind of Rufus to 
 whom he was indebted for this mischief, but when 
 the policeman called to investigate he refused 
 to allow him to proceed further in the matter. 
 " No," he said. " I havn't much faith in 
 prisons as reformatories, and Billy has nothing 
 to pay with. It might make him better, but 
 it may make him wuss, and he's poor stuff to 
 experiment on. I can afford to bear the loss 
 better than he can afford to have it upon his 
 
 conscience."
 
 ISO ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 The vicar especially was very angry, and 
 went to see Porter, but that worthy found it 
 convenient to be absent from home. But the 
 next Monday, when a group of farmers were 
 standing in the Market Place at Whitehurst 
 discussing the price of wheat and other matters 
 relating to their calling, Billy was making his 
 way towards the Market Hall with his hands in 
 his pockets. 
 
 Suddenly a little man was seen to dart out of 
 the parlour of the Red Lion, bareheaded and 
 horsewhip in hand. It was Joe Wentworth. 
 
 " Hallo Billy," he said, " have you broken 
 any windows lately ? ' 
 
 " Dunno what you mean, mister," growled 
 Billy. 
 
 The horse whip whistled round his head and 
 came with a vicious cut across his shoulders. 
 
 " Perhaps that will help to revive your 
 memory," said Joe, and for the next few minutes 
 nothing was heard but the savage swish of the 
 lash, as blow after blow fell in rapid succession. 
 
 The farmers crowded to the window of the 
 bar, and those who were in the street formed a 
 circle about the little man, who danced round 
 the big hulking fellow, and seemed the very 
 personification of angry justice. Some laughed, 
 others shouted approval, while the rest looked 
 on in silent interest. Billy tried to protect his 
 head with his arms, but at each succeeding blow 
 of the whip he cried out " I didna do it. I 
 didna do it." 
 
 At length the limit of human endurance was 
 reached, for the merciless lash cut him across the 
 cheek, and with a bellow like that of a bull he
 
 A SNAKE AMIDST THE FLOWERS. 151 
 
 made a mad rush for the Market Hall. By 
 accident rather than design his great foot caught 
 Joe on the shin, which made him limp for a week 
 after, and rendered it impossible for him to 
 pursue Porter even if he had wished. 
 
 "There," he said, as he looked round, " I 
 feel as good as if I had been to the Sacrament. 
 Guess Billy won't rub the marks off this side of 
 Sunday," and then he went back to finish his 
 dinner. 
 
 Rufus was very displeased when he heard of 
 this encounter, and soundly rated his brother. 
 
 " I would not have had this happened for 
 five pounds," he said. 
 
 " And I wouldn't have missed it for twenty, 
 replied Joe. " There binna no pleasure greater 
 than letting a measly fellow like Billy taste a bit 
 of the Judgment Day." 
 
 " Then leave it till that time," said Rufus. 
 
 " Na'ay, then I should miss the fun. Look 
 here, Rufus, you are a bit too good for this world, 
 and foaks take advantage of you because you 
 are too tender to flog a scoundrel. You might 
 as well try to make a pig sweet by spreading 
 honey on its back, as waste kindness on such 
 fellows as Billy. A horsewhip will do more 
 good for 'em than all your gospel o' forgiveness. 
 Ask the vicar. I met him comin' down, and he 
 didn't say I had done wrong, but just said, 
 " Wentworth, we must have you on the Com- 
 mittee for the flower show next year." 
 
 " All reet, Vic.," I said. " You've a pretty 
 good mixin' o' black sheep in your flock, and it'll 
 take us both to manage 'em. So you see it's 
 all reet. A good horsewhip is a powerful instru-
 
 152 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 ment for teachin' rogues to be honest men." 
 
 " I don't believe it," said Rufus. 
 
 11 Jesus Christ did," said Joe, " for He laid 
 on to those fellows who sold doves in the Temple. 
 Guess you are gettin' on Rufe, when you know 
 more than Him. Billy Porter won't go smashin' 
 glass again in a hurry." 
 
 And Joe was right in his conclusion, whatever 
 may be said of his premises.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 CALLED TO BE A MINISTER OF JESUS 
 CHRIST. 
 
 ' "Tis thine to watch thy Master's budding vine. 
 Till the ripe fruit in purple clusters falls ; 
 The ever radiant threads of truth to twine 
 A golden clue to those celestial halls 
 Where, when the kingdoms of the earth decay, 
 And suns are dim, thou'lt live in endless days." 
 
 EMILY JUDSON. 
 
 ONE of the periodic changes in the ministry 
 so common in Methodist churches had just 
 taken place in Whitehurst Circuit, to which 
 Summerton was attached. Mr. Wyvern, the 
 outgoing minister, had been greatly respected 
 by all sections of the community and much 
 beloved by his own. Rufus, whose judgment 
 carried great weight in the circuit councils, had 
 recommended the Rev. Stephen Evans as his 
 successor, and he had been elected. Mr. Evans 
 was a rising man in the denomination. He 
 united unusual pulpit gifts to a charming 
 personality, and, without claiming to be either 
 a great scholar or a .profound student, never- 
 theless had considerable scholastic gifts. He 
 had also a versatile pen, and had written several 
 popular young people's stories. It was the 
 reading of one of these that first led Rufus to 
 consider the possibility of securing his services. 
 " He writes as one who loves children," he said
 
 154 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 to Ms wife, " and the man who can win the 
 hearts of the children is making the history of 
 the future. I learned long ago that if you look 
 after the buds the blossoms will be all right." 
 
 It had been decided to have a welcome meet- 
 ing at Summerton the first time Mr. Evans was 
 planned. It was an innovation borrowed from 
 the Congregational Church, and some of the 
 older folk were not quite sure about the advisa- 
 bility of it, but at length consented under 
 pressure, and for weeks it was the talk of the 
 village. 
 
 " I dunno believe in these new-fangled 
 notions myself," said Thomas Surton, when he 
 took his wife's china with the lilac spray upon 
 it down to the chapel for the tea, " but I'm 
 only ONE." Mr. Surton might easily say that 
 with truth, and hardly one in his own home ; 
 for it was well known that his wife, a little woman 
 just over five feet, and weighing six stones all 
 told, controlled and directed him, although he 
 stood six feet, and weighed fourteen stones. 
 The way she ordered him about, and the dumb, 
 unresisting obedience he paid her, was a stand- 
 ing joke in the church, and, as Rufus put it, 
 " furnished a splendid example of mind con- 
 trolling matter." 
 
 " Now, then, dunno yo' break that chancy," 
 she called out from the end of the table to 
 where Thomas stood uttering his objection. 
 " There's nowt so clumsy as men," she con- 
 tinued ; ' ' they canno do anything wi'oot 
 breakin' something. I tell our Thomas his 
 fingers are all thumbs, and thick 'uns at that, 
 for he smashes more pots in a month than I do
 
 CALLED TO BE A MINISTER. 155 
 
 in twelve. There was that beautiful glass bowl 
 our Sally brought from Southport. You re- 
 member it, Miss Wentworth wi' the sea on 
 one side and ' A Present from Southport ' on 
 the other. If he didn't go and break that one 
 night, though I handled it a thousand times. 
 Then he broke my mother's cream jug. Though 
 it was badly cracked, it stood on the shelf where 
 nobody could see the crack and did as well as 
 a new 'un, except that it wouldna' hold cream. 
 And then one Sunday after being at chapel and 
 hearin' a good sermon on Cain and Abel he came 
 straight home and, it's as true as I'm here, if 
 he didn't knock a looking-glass off the table 
 that I had been using to put my back hair up 
 with, and all his excuse was, ' I didna' see it.' 
 ' Didna' see it ? ' says I ; ' then you ought to 
 see it what are your eyes for ? ' I wonder 
 where we should ha' been if I had gone knocking 
 things down because I didna' see them. We 
 should have neither stick nor stone in the house. 
 And to break a looking-glass is bad luck, every- 
 body knows that, and what wi' the children 
 having the measles and the pig the swine fever 
 I think we've had bad luck enough, I don't 
 know what you think about it. ' Stuff and 
 nonsense,' says he, ' it's all superstition.' ' 
 
 ' ' ' Thomas Surton,' says I, ' if you are goin' 
 to go in the teeth of the almanac and of Provid- 
 ence, say so, and I'll clear out, for I won't have 
 you talk such blasphemy in MY house. I broke 
 a looking-glass once myself, and I know what 
 I'm talkin' about.' ' And what happened, 
 woman ? ' says he. ' Happened,' says I ; 
 ' why, I met thee at my brother Lyjah's and yo'
 
 156 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 would go home wi' me, and I promised that neet 
 to be your wife, and that's bad luck enuff for a 
 lifetime, I reckon.' ' 
 
 ' ' Well did anything specially unlucky happen 
 after Thomas broke the glass ? " asked Gwen, 
 immensely amused at this conversation. 
 
 ' l Ay ; we had a letter next mornin' from 
 my brother in Amerikey sayin' that the City of 
 Chicago had been burnt down. It's true he'd 
 left only a week before for Boston, but then 
 that was as it might be. It is easy to see that 
 he might have lost everything." 
 
 " But the breaking of the looking-glass 
 cannot have had anything to do with the Chicago 
 fire," said Gwen, " because the fire must have 
 taken place weeks before." 
 
 " Well, miss," said the little woman, " I'm 
 not one of them folks as sets myself up to explain 
 the ways of Providence. Lots of things happen 
 in this world that would take a cleverer head 
 than yours or mine to tell. Here, Thomas, 
 bring that chaney this way." 
 
 " That's right," she said, as she uncovered 
 the basket and saw the precious china with the 
 lilac flower upon it which had graced the table 
 at every Methodist tea meeting for twenty years. 
 " I was all of a dither for half an hour lest you 
 tumbled down wi' the basket. Now go home 
 and clean yourself, and feed the pigs, and make 
 the fire up, and " 
 
 Alas for human nature ! Just then a shadow 
 appeared in the doorway of the chapel, and 
 Harold Wincanton looked in. The surprise so 
 completely took her attention off the china 
 that the basin she had in her hand fell to the
 
 CALLED TO BE A MINISTER. 157 
 
 floor and was broken into a hundred pieces. 
 
 With an exclamation of horror she turned 
 red, then pale, and forthwith burst into tears. 
 
 * It's a good job you did it yourself," was the 
 rational but unwise remark of her husband, 
 who began clumsily to pick up the pieces. 
 
 ' If you'd ha' been here when you ought to 
 ha' been it wouldna' ha' happened," she retorted. 
 " To think that I should have kept the whole 
 set until now, ever since my old mistress gave 
 them to me, and this should be the end of it ! 
 Don't sit grinning there like a gorilla ! What's 
 broken canna be mended, but I wouldna' have 
 had it happen for five pounds." 
 
 Poor Mrs. Surton was not the only one who 
 had flushed by the totally unexpected appear- 
 ance of the young man. Gwen blushed to the 
 roots of her hair, and commenced furiously 
 wiping the china, regardless of the fact that it 
 was no duty of hers. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Wentworth," he said, " may I 
 speak to you a moment, please ? " 
 
 Gwen, with a face as red as a peony, went to 
 the door and closed it behind her. 
 
 " I fear," he said, " that I have come at an 
 inopportune moment. But I had a message 
 from my mother to deliver, and, calling at the 
 house, I was informed that you were here, and 
 that probably I should find you alone. I there- 
 fore ventured to look in as I was passing." 
 
 Gwen simply bowed her head, for she had not 
 yet recovered self-possession. 
 
 " Had I known that you were engaged in 
 so interesting an occupation I should have 
 hesitated to have intruded," he continued.
 
 158 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 looking steadily into her face all the time ; 
 11 but I hope you will forgive me. My excuse 
 must be the urgency of my mother's request. 
 She is having a house party next Friday, and 
 she desired me to ask you to come and help her 
 to entertain by singing for them. I'm not to 
 take back a refusal." 
 
 As a matter of fact, Lady Wincanton had only 
 consented after a scene to invite Gwen. Harold 
 had declared if she did not invite her he would 
 not remain at home that day, and very reluc- 
 tantly she had yielded. 
 
 11 I'm afraid I cannot say yes," replied Gwen. 
 " Friday is a busy day, and I have two pupils 
 in the evening." 
 
 " But you really must," replied Harold. 
 " My mother will not forgive either you or me 
 if I carry back a refusal. You can surely arrange 
 for your pupils to come some other time.' 
 
 " Well, I'll ask father and let you know. 
 But you must not build any hopes on my coming, 
 for I fear it is impossible. 
 
 " Oh, don't say that, Miss Wentworth. If 
 you only knew how much my happiness depends 
 on your presence I'm sure you would come." 
 
 Gwen's eyes sank under the bold penetrating 
 gaze of the young man as he uttered these words, 
 and she was about to reply when she saw the 
 keen inquisitive looks of Mrs. Surton peering 
 out of a side window. 
 
 " You will excuse me," she said ; "I cannot 
 stay any longer. I will write you to-morrow. 
 Good-bye." 
 
 " Farewell," he replied, seizing her hand, and 
 lifting the finger-tips to his lips. She as hastily
 
 CALLED TO BE A MINISTER. 159 
 
 withdrew them, knowing well that every detail 
 of the scene was being eagerly watched, to be 
 repeated with embellishment all over the village 
 in a few hours. 
 
 The tea proved an unqualified success. Just 
 as the large company which had gathered were 
 seating themselves her father came in, bringing 
 a stranger with him, who was introduced as the 
 new minister. Outwardly there was but little 
 of the cleric about him, and he might easily 
 have passed for a well-to-do business man. 
 At first sight Gwen thought him the most 
 handsome man she had ever seen. He was 
 above the medium height, and had a good- 
 humoured look in his hazel eyes as he bowed 
 to the company. 
 
 Rufus brought him to the head of the table, 
 where Gwen was serving, and introduced him. 
 
 " I am glad to make your acquaintance, Miss 
 Wentworth," he said. " I have been told at no 
 less than four places on the circuit of your 
 wonderful singing. It has made me quite 
 anxious to hear you." 
 
 " I fear you will be greatly disappointed when 
 you do hear me," she rejoined, with a blush. 
 "I am really only a very ordinary singer, 
 suffering from being extra-ordinarily advertised." 
 
 " And this is one of your most enthusiastic 
 advertising agents," he said, smiling at Rufus, 
 " is he not ?" 
 
 " Oh, dad is incorrigible. Anybody would 
 think to hear him talk I was an angel minus the 
 wings. He really makes me ashamed to go 
 about with him." 
 
 "Well," said Rufus, "if you've a middlin'
 
 160 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 bad article on your hands you have to talk it 
 up to get rid of it. If I was to go about and tell 
 how badly I'm treated by the two women at 
 home, and how I've not been able to keep my 
 hair for worry, and what sauce I have to take 
 with every meal, do you think I should ever be 
 likely to get rid of either one or the other ? 
 Another lump of sugar, please. You needn't 
 stint me to-day. I've paid my shilling, and I 
 can have as much sugar as I like. You'd be 
 surprised, sir, how they tie me down at home. 
 It's only when I come to a tea meeting I can get 
 a full allowance six cups of tea, and five lumps 
 of sugar to each cup." 
 
 Gwen was about to reply when a voice was 
 heard at the door, and, turning round, she was 
 surprised to see Joe Wentworth, laughing 
 heartily, and trying to pass the ticket collector. 
 
 " No ; I call it a downright swindle," he 
 exclaimed, loud enough to be heard all over the 
 place. ' ' A shilling for a man my size is robbery. 
 There's Slought, you charge a shilling for him. 
 He's seventeen stone and I'm eight. By either 
 size or weight I should have some consideration. 
 Why not half price ? " 
 
 Everybody stopped eating, for they knew 
 that there would be sure to be some fun now 
 Joe had come. 
 
 " It's only children half price, sir," said the 
 ticket collector, " if you like to sit amongst 
 them." 
 
 " Here, take it," cried Joe ; " it's downright 
 robbery under the name of religion. Where's 
 the new parson ? I'm going to sit by him, and 
 put him up to a thing or two. He doesn't know
 
 CALLED TO BE A MINISTER. 161 
 
 what sort of a lot he's come amongst, or he would 
 have gone to Timbuctoo before he came to this 
 circuit." Making his way across the room to 
 Gwen's side, he said, * ' Hallo, Queenie ! I want 
 some tea with cream in. None of your Methodist 
 blue milk, seven times watered, for me. But 
 where's the new parson ? I don't see anybody 
 that looks as if he were tired of this world and 
 afraid to go to the next, here. I guess he's 
 repented and has not come." 
 
 "He's here," said Rufus. " Let me intro- 
 duce you. Mr. Evans, this is my brother Joe." 
 
 " Humph," said Joe, " this is a queer throstle 
 to be in a blackbird's cage. How are you, sir, 
 and how's the missus, and the kids ? " 
 
 " I'm very well, thank you," replied the 
 minister. " There's doesn't happen to be any 
 missus or children in this case, so that I've no 
 one to be responsible for but myself." 
 
 " You are a sensible man I find. But 
 you must keep your eye on Queenie," replied 
 Joe. " She falls in love with all unmarried 
 ministers right off the reel ; wins their affections, 
 breaks their hearts, and then throws them aside 
 like old crocks." 
 
 * ' For shame, Uncle Joe ! I'll not give you 
 any tea now for slandering me. You are a most 
 untruthful old man." 
 
 " Well, well," replied Joe, " least said soonest 
 mended. But I'm sorry to see you, sir, for you 
 are in for a bad time. I've known this circuit 
 ever since I was as tall as a mushroom, and the 
 ministers either die, or run away, or something 
 else nearly as bad." 
 
 ' * Take no notice of him, sir," said Rufus ;
 
 162 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 "he is always joking, and he is never to be 
 believed when he speaks like that." 
 
 11 Look here, if you are a betting man some 
 ministers do bet on the sly I bet you a guinea 
 to a penny that they either marry you or bury 
 you before you leave this circuit," replied Joe. 
 
 " Well," said the minister, " if you have as 
 many young ladies as beautiful and as clever as 
 Miss Wentworth, there are more unlikely things 
 than the former. Anyhow, I hope it will not 
 be the latter." 
 
 " Smitten already, are you ? I'll make the 
 bet five guineas if you like. But look here, 
 seriously now, you will have to beware of our 
 Rufe here. He bosses all the parsons that 
 come, and he's the most unmitigated tyrant 
 that ever trod in shoe leather. He's bishop and 
 you are the curate, and if you want to keep 
 straight, butter him up ; he's as fond of being 
 praised as a cat is of cream. It's the only way 
 to get on with him. I told him I should warn 
 you against him, and I have. Now, Rufe, what 
 have you to say in self-defence ? " 
 
 " Nothing. Mr. Evans will find out for him- 
 self what we all are soon enough ; and until 
 then I am quite content that he should take 
 what you say as correct." 
 
 " There isn't a word of it true," exclaimed 
 Gwen warmly, " and I call it disgraceful, Uncle 
 Joe, for you to talk about dad like that. He 
 never bosses anybody, and he doesn't like being 
 praised." 
 
 " There's a Miss Spitfire for you," replied 
 Joe, laughing. " I thought I should set the 
 pot a-boiling soon. You musn't say a word
 
 CALLED TO BE A MINISTER. 163 
 
 again Rufe, or up goes her claws and she's a 
 tartar. I'll tell you what they do with the 
 parsons here. The first year they idolise 'em, 
 the second they tantalise 'em, and the third 
 they scandalise 'em. Nobody ever stops longer 
 than three years. Another cup of tea, please. 
 That's only the third, and I've a shilling's worth 
 to dispose of." 
 
 All through this conversation Mr. Evans 
 looked up from one to another with an amused 
 and puzzled expression on his face, but said 
 nothing, but having as he thought, taken the 
 measure of the talkative little man, he now said : 
 " Your description is certainly not very com- 
 plimentary to our people, but I've generally 
 found those who have most fault to find with 
 their fellows are far from perfect themselves." 
 
 " Right," said the unabashed Joe, " that's 
 on the principle of setting a thief to catch a 
 thief. But there are exceptions to all rules, 
 and I'm an honourable exception in this, I assure 
 you. I came along out of sheer charity to warn 
 you as to what you might expect. Did you ever 
 preach from this text, sir, * But every fool will 
 be meddling ' ? " 
 
 " No," replied Mr. Evans, " I might promise, 
 however, to do so if you would come and hear 
 the sermon." 
 
 ' ' Humph ! " muttered Joe to his brother. 
 " The fellow has his head screwed on right," 
 and then, turning to the minister, replied : 
 " It's a bargain, let me know, and I'll come. 
 I'd like to come. It would be as good as fresh 
 strawberries to hear some of your flock get a 
 good talking to, for they are a meddlesome lot,
 
 164 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 who mind their own business and everybody 
 else's besides." 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth," replied the minister, " I 
 am a little tired of hearing about the faults 
 supposed or real of my people. Suppose we 
 change the subject." 
 
 ' ' All right," said Joe, ' ' I thought it was only 
 neighbourly to put you on your guard. Do 
 you know anything about hosses ? " 
 
 " A little," replied the minister, smiling at 
 this rapid transposition. 
 
 " Well, come along some day to my place, 
 and I will show you the grandest lot of gee-gees 
 in the county. Can you ride ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied the minister. 
 
 " Humph ! bit proud of his horsemanship," 
 Joe thought. 
 
 1 ' I'd like to see him on the back of King Jim, 
 or handling George the Third, there'd be some 
 fun, I reckon." 
 
 11 Are you going to stop to the meeting, 
 Uncle Joe ? " asked Gwen. 
 
 " No, no, lass, they will all be tellin' the 
 minister what a fine fellow he is, and what a lot 
 of saints he's come amongst, and making all 
 sorts of promises they never intend to keep, 
 like they did at the Congregational Church. 
 For the first month honey wasn't sweet enough 
 for their little fellow, but by the end of three 
 months they dropped to treacle, and now it's 
 vinegar ; all vinegar. He came to me the other 
 day, poor chap, and he says : ( Mr. Wentworth, 
 I wish I'd been a farmer, or a market gardener 
 instead of a parson.' ( Ay,' I answered, ' yo' 
 look a likely soart of man to grow good cabbages,'
 
 CALLED TO BE A MINISTER. 165 
 
 but when I seed it hurt him I dropped it. 
 
 ' What's wrong, anyway ? ' says I. ' Binna 
 the money comin' in, cos if a sovereign's any 
 
 use ' He blushed to the roots of his hair, 
 
 and says : * No, it is not money. Perhaps I 
 ought not to have mentioned it,' and then he 
 stopped, and wouldn't open his mouth an inch 
 farther. ' I know,' says I, * it's lack of appre- 
 ciation, binna it ? They don't see your strong 
 points, eh ? You trot your best, but they want 
 you to go faster. They binna fond of work 
 themselves, and think you are, and show their 
 love by piling it on. They want twenty-ton 
 gun sermons, but only pay for powder enough 
 to fire a rifle. They talk about you as their 
 1 ' dear minister " to strangers and then straight- 
 away tell all your little weaknesses, and how 
 you don't give them the right kind of doctrine, 
 and what a dear man your predecessor was, 
 who lived the life of a toad under a harrow all 
 the time he was with them. And they are always 
 wondering why the chapel don't fill up, and 
 telling you what grand congregations they used 
 to have. That's about the size on't. I know 
 the breed and I advise you to clear out and take 
 to hoss dealing. It's a clean, honest business 
 compared to that you are in. There'll be more 
 hossdealers in heaven than other traders, I 
 guess.' But the little chap is real grit and is 
 sticking to his post like sealing wax. I did 
 hear he was going to ask Queenie there to share 
 his lot, I know he's as sweet on her as our Rufe 
 is on roses." 
 
 11 He will be greatly to be envied," said the 
 minister, "if he succeeds, I'm sure."
 
 166 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 11 That's all you know, young man," replied 
 Joe. " You should see her with her warpaint 
 on. She bites. Tat-ta, I must be going. And 
 remember you call on me soon, and come to 
 dinner. We've buttermilk and taties the first 
 part of the week, and taties and buttermilk 
 the second." 
 
 " You musn't take any notice of Joe," said 
 Rufus when he was gone. He talks, but he has 
 a heart of gold. There is nothin' he likes so 
 much as what he calls ' raggin' a parson,' but 
 if there's a man who does more kind deeds on 
 the sly than Joe Wentworth I'd like to know 
 him." 
 
 " I think I understand," said Mr. Evans, 
 " but he certainly is rather a curious study." 
 
 " Ay, he is not easily classified and put into 
 a catalogue, ain't Joe. I think his one great 
 joy is to shock folk by doin' or sayin' outrageous 
 things. But I think he has taken to you." 
 
 ' ' Well, he certainly has a queer way of show- 
 ing his liking. But I daresay we shall get on all 
 right together. Does he often come to the ser- 
 vices ?" "No," said Rufus, "he ain't a 
 regular worshipper by any means. He drops 
 in now and again when the maggot bites him." 
 
 " He always comes when dad's preaching," 
 said Gwen, " because he says that he knows 
 that the preaching and the practice go together." 
 
 " Pooh," answered Rufus, " that's Joe's 
 way of keeping up the family pride. He has 
 never forgotten that we were children together." 
 
 The meeting following the tea was a great 
 success. Rufus took the chair, and his speech 
 was characteristically original, witty, and yet
 
 CALLED TO BE A MINISTER. 167 
 
 profound and spiritual. Mr. Evans thought he 
 had never heard it equalled. Gwen sang, and 
 as her sweet voice filled the building the minister 
 was thrilled, and fell in love with the singer 
 forthwith. As for Gwen, his presence affected 
 her in a different way than any other person had 
 ever done. She did not attempt to analyse her 
 own feelings, but she was conscious that she was 
 indifferent to everyone else in the place. She 
 wanted to please him, and when she sat down 
 amidst a tempest of applause, she observed that 
 he clapped loudest and longest. 
 
 * ' Well, dad," she asked over the supper table, 
 " how did you like Mr. Evans ? " 
 
 " I think he is A.I ;| top class," he said with 
 a smile. " And what do you think, eh ? " 
 he queried with the light of expectation in his 
 eyes. 
 
 " I think he has very big feet," she replied 
 and laughing kissed her father " Good-night."
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 THE GUILE OF A HUMORIST. 
 
 " I notice that when a man runs his head against a post, 
 he curses the post furst, all kreashun next, and sumthing else 
 last, and never thinks ov cursing himself." JOSH BILLINGS. 
 
 FOR many years the Methodists of Stourbridge 
 had held preaching services in the kitchen of a 
 farmer named Jackson a man who walked 
 with God, and enjoyed the respect and esteem 
 of all who knew him. Jackson's kitchen was 
 the Bethel of many a soul, the place where 
 heaven and earth touched. And the church 
 grew until the spacious kitchen would no longer 
 hold the congregation that assembled. It over- 
 flowed into the parlour, then into the yard, 
 the window being open to let those who could 
 not get inside hear as much of the sermon as 
 was possible under these disadvantageous con- 
 ditions. Many attempts were made to get land 
 on which to build a chapel, but the only two 
 landowners in the village, Lord Forrester and 
 Mr. James Deakin, refused to sell. When Lady 
 Wincanton first entered into possession, a depu- 
 tation was appointed to wait upon her, to lay 
 the case before her, but she peremptorily dis- 
 missed it, saying that she had no sympathy with 
 dissent of any kind, and least of all with Metho- 
 dism. The vicar, unlike his brother at Summer- 
 ton, was a narrow-minded man, and, having
 
 THE GUILE OF A HUMORIST. 169 
 
 heard of the proposed deputation, had fore- 
 stalled it, with the result named. Squire 
 Deakin, as he was called, was a soured old miser, 
 a retired moneylender, whose life had been 
 spoiled by a woman who jilted him, and whose 
 companions were a dozen large dogs of 
 various breeds, with which he surrounded 
 himself popular rumour said because he was 
 afraid of being robbed. He had little inter- 
 course with the villagers ; an old man, nearly as 
 surly as himself, and his wife, being the only in- 
 door servants he employed. A hater of his kind, 
 he lived a solitary life, his sole recreation being 
 the pursuit of certain occult sciences, which gave 
 him rather a fearsome reputation with the simple 
 villagers. The only man with whom he held 
 intercourse was Joe Wentworth, who occasionally 
 called and spent an evening with the recluse. 
 When questioned about what he had seen and 
 heard, he would put on an air of mystery, and 
 give some such reply as this : " Doing ? Oh, 
 I found him trying to make a silk waistcoat out 
 of cobwebs. He managed all right till he had 
 to make the buttonholes and stitch the buttons 
 on, and, finding he couldn't do it himself, he sent 
 for me to help him. Queer chap is the squire. 
 Guess what we had for supper ? No, you couldn't 
 if you had a fortnight. We had soup made out 
 of rats tails, and roasted hedgehog. Fact 
 you ask him." And, laughing, Joe hurried 
 away. 
 
 Although everybody knew that Joe was 
 drawing the long bow, nevertheless the fact that 
 he gave such whimsical replies added to the 
 mystery that gathered round the squire. When
 
 170 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 questioned as to the squire's wealth he said : 
 * ' Ay, he s trying to make gold sovereigns out 
 of lead ore, but he hasn't quite managed it." 
 
 One day Farmer Jackson met with a fatal 
 accident, and the farm was taken by a man who 
 had no sympathy with Methodists or their 
 ways, and they were speedily told to find another 
 meeting-place. That was much easier said than 
 done. So long as the summer lasted the services 
 were held on the village green, but winter was 
 fast approaching, and it seemed as though the 
 little church would be compelled to disband. 
 Many anxious meetings were held. Three 
 cottagers, who in turn opened their houses when 
 the weather was unsuitable for them to be held 
 outside, received notice to quit from Lady Win- 
 canton's agent. The case became an open 
 scandal. Letters appeared in a local paper 
 which greatly annoyed Lady Wincanton and 
 the vicar, and made them more determined not 
 to yield. The broad-minded Vicar of Summer- 
 ton, after a conversation with Rufu?, attempted 
 to intervene, only to be told by his fellow cleric 
 that he was a traitor to his Church, and by Lady 
 Wincanton to mind his own business. 
 
 When the agitation was at its height Squire 
 Deakin was taken ill, and in a few days died. 
 He left the whole of his wealth to certain charities 
 with the exception of a life annuity to his two 
 household attendants, and his horses and personal 
 goods to his friend Joe Wentworth. When it 
 was understood that the estate was coming into 
 the market the hopes of the Methodists rose, 
 for there were two sites of land eminently suited 
 for building purposes. One was opposite Lady
 
 THE GUILE OF A HUMORIST. 171 
 
 Wincanton's park gates, and it was thought 
 that she would be prepared to give a pretty stiff 
 price in order to prevent having a chapel built 
 there. The other was in the centre of the 
 village. 
 
 Very many meetings were held, and it was de- 
 termined to purchase one or the other site unless 
 the price was prohibitive. But in order that 
 they might not appear in the matter Rufus 
 suggested that his brother Joe should be asked 
 to attend the sale and purchase on their behalf. 
 When, however, Joe was approached he flatly 
 refused to have anything to do with it, very 
 much to the astonishment of his brother. 
 " Naay," he said, " I'll have nothing to do with 
 it. In all probability Lady Wincanton will 
 buy one or both plots, and if she does not the 
 vicar will." When further pressed he answered : 
 " He was not going to bring a hornet's nest 
 about his head ; he had enough on hand." 
 
 Rufus was utterly taken aback by this attitude 
 of his brother, for he thought that it would be 
 just the kind of thing that would appeal to Joe, 
 but in spite of persuasion he remained obdurate. 
 " He did not want to be mixed up with a 
 religious row," he said. " Let the parsons settle 
 it themselves. If they would take off their 
 coats and fight it out like men, he would give 
 a donation towards the purchase, but he saw 
 no reason for interfering. He would, however, 
 give them a hint. There was old Jeffries, of 
 Stemford, a Conservative, and a friend of his, 
 who had married a Methodist wife nobody 
 would suspect him, as he was an entire stranger 
 in the district. Undoubtedly he would act for
 
 172 j ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 them for a small consideration." And so Jeffries, 
 a retired lawyer, was approached and consented, 
 a fact that Rufus duly communicated to Joe. 
 
 The next day Joe was riding on horseback 
 when he met the vicar driving. He lifted his 
 whip for him to stop, and said, " Nice day, 
 vicar. By the way, I've got a bit of news for 
 you, if you'll promise to keep it quiet. The 
 Methodists are likely to get a footing in Stour- 
 bridge after all. I hear they are going to 
 purchase the croft opposite the park gates to 
 build a rippin' new chapel steeple, 'lectric 
 lights, and all up-to-date appliances. Guess 
 they'll lick the church, then, into fiddlestrings. 
 I'm not sure if they dunno mean to set down 
 a minister in the village, to look after the sheep 
 that jump over the fence." Joe was, of course, 
 drawing on his imagination for these particulars, 
 but a favourite maxim of his was, ( ' If you don't 
 know the facts, invent them." 
 
 The vicar replied, " I thank you, Mr. Went- 
 worth, for the information. It will be my duty 
 to prevent such a calamity happening if I can. 
 I'd as soon have the pestilence in the parish as 
 have more Methodists." 
 
 " But, look here, vie," said Joe, with an 
 anxious look on his face ; " you'll be jannock 
 you won't let on that I told you ? " 
 
 " Certainly not," answered the vicar. " You 
 are quite sure your information is correct ? " 
 
 " As sure as that I'm sending twenty of my 
 best cheese to the market to-morrow. It's a 
 dead cert, and I'll bet you a twenty pund note 
 that they'll have a chapel up within the next 
 twelve months. They are set on it, and when
 
 THE GUILE OF A HUMORIST. I?3 
 
 Methodists say a thing, you may take it that 
 it's as good as done. They have a way of 
 prayin' themselves into believing furst, that 
 they ought to do a thing, then, that they can 
 dp it, and then that they will; and the devil 
 himself cannot stop 'em once things get to that. 
 And they are jamb up to that point about this 
 chapel." 
 
 " I don't bet," said the Vicar, " but " 
 
 ' Pity tfiat," said Joe. " It kind o' adds 
 a bit of spice to daily providence like Worcester 
 sauce to cold meat." 
 
 ' It's the pastime of fools," said the vicar 
 severely. 
 
 1 ' Thank you," replied Joe, lifting his hat. 
 * I'm kind of your opinion. At least, it is to 
 bet with me. The fact is, I always win. Funny, 
 ain't it ? I never lost a bet but once, and that 
 was when I had a bet with a bishop. He had 
 a face like a cherub, but, law bless you, he 
 knew all the ropes. I never took a bishop on 
 again ; they know too much. But, sorry I 
 interrupted you, sir ; go on." 
 
 " I was going to inquire if I might know how 
 you obtained your information." 
 
 " Well, you know, my brother is a kind o' 
 ganger amongst them. It's a pity, for if he'd 
 only stuck to the mother Church there is no 
 tellin' what he might have become Archbishop 
 of Canterbury, or something of the sort. I 
 tell you, he can whip you all at preachin' as easy 
 as winking. He just gives out his text, pulls 
 his spectacles off, rubs the back of his head, and 
 fires away. None of your paper bullets for 
 him. And I assure you he makes it pretty hot
 
 174 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 for the sinners. There binna many fleas left 
 on 'em when he's done with them." 
 
 11 And your brother told you," the vicar 
 impatiently broke in. 
 
 But Joe would not hear. " I once heard you 
 preach, sir, and it was like cold cabbage and 
 lard on a winter's day, nothin' warm about it. 
 You should get Rufe to give you a lesson or 
 two." 
 
 The vicar was getting very red in the face, 
 and he angrily shook the reins, but, wishful to 
 get all the information he could from the gar- 
 rulous farmer, he restrained his rising anger and 
 simply said, " I have some knowledge of your 
 brother, Mr. Wentworth. He is a market 
 gardener at Summerton, I think. The vicar 
 speaks very highly of him." 
 
 " He need to," answered the unblushing 
 Joe, ' ' for when the last vicar was dangling after 
 fine ladies at dances, and drinking with old 
 Lord Forrester, Rufe kept the folk up to concert 
 pitch, visiting both church and chapel alike, and 
 seein' that they went reg'lar to the place o' 
 worship. Rufe's topsawyer in Summerton in 
 religion, and it pays the vicar to keep on the 
 sweet side of him." 
 
 " And it was your brother who informed 
 you of the intended purchase of land at Stour- 
 bridge, was it ? " 
 
 " Ay, it was Rufe who let the cat out of the 
 bag. And so you see," continued Joe, " it 
 wouldna do for my name to appear, or Rufe and 
 me might have a few words. So I'll rely on you, 
 sir, to keep it quiet." 
 
 ' ( I pledge you my word on it, Mr. Wentworth.
 
 THE GUILE OF A HUMORIST. 175 
 
 But I don't quite understand why, if your brother 
 is so eager for a Methodist chapel at Stourbridge, 
 you should have so great an objection." 
 
 ''Now that's real cute," said Joe. "But 
 you see, because I care a bit for Rufe, it is no 
 reason why I should carry all the Methody 
 parsons of the country on my back. Rufe 
 sometimes says, ' Joe, I love you, but I don't 
 love your companions.' ' Ditto, Rufe,' says I, 
 ' so we are equal.' I haven't any objection to 
 the Methodists having a church at Stourbridge. 
 I'm a Churchman myself, because it's the only 
 church where a man can swear when he's vexed, 
 and gamble when he pleases, and have a fling 
 without being called to account. That's the 
 kind of church I like. Not one where the 
 members are going about wi' a microscope in- 
 specting one another's characters, to see if they 
 are fit for the New Jerusalem. But I've nowt 
 agin the Methodists only the harness is too 
 tight for me to pull in. And now I've told you 
 so much, I'll tell you a bit more. They wanted 
 me to appear at the sale for them, and when I 
 refused they have got old Jeffries of Stemford 
 to come and bid for them. He's a tall man, with 
 a beard like a billy goat, and rusty black hair. 
 It was grey before he married a young wife, but 
 it's turned black since. Usually marriage acts 
 the other way. If you are at the sale you'll see 
 him, and he will make the runnin' in the biddin'. 
 Good afternoon, sir, and remember that a friend 
 in the bush is worth two in the open." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Wentworth. I'm greatly 
 obliged for the information." 
 
 Joe rode on, a quizzical smile on his face, and
 
 176 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 muttered to himself, " Guess the Vicar rose 
 to the bait like a wasp to the honeypot. He'll 
 try and put a spoke in Rufe's wheel. He won't 
 sleep for thinkin' of the Methodist chapel wi' 
 a steeple." 
 
 The vicar, instead of going straight home, 
 drove to the Hall, where he had a long interview 
 with Lady Wincanton. The latter next day 
 sent for her agent, and told him that she had 
 determined to buy both plots of land which 
 belonged to Deakin's estate. He was to attend 
 the sale and bid up to a certain sum, and then, 
 if they went higher, withdraw ; but he was to 
 arrange for someone else to carry the bidding 
 on, and purchase no matter at whatever price. 
 Two days before the sale he informed her that 
 the arrangements were complete. A lawyer's 
 clerk from a London firm would represent her. 
 An hour afterwards he came back with the 
 news that a strip had been pasted over the sale 
 bills stating that the plot in the middle of the 
 village had been withdrawn from the sale. 
 Could this mean that the Methodists had been 
 and purchased by private contract ? Nobody 
 seemed to know, and, after consulting the vicar, 
 he set off to see Joe Wentworth. 
 
 1 'Well, vie," said the latter, "all going 
 right ? " 
 
 ' ' I came to ask you if you had seen the sale 
 bill for Thursday. One plot has been with- 
 drawn from the market." 
 
 " Has it ? " said Joe. " Well, seems to me 
 the Methodists may get their nose in after all. 
 Rufe Wentworth ain't got his wisdom teeth 
 
 to cut."
 
 THE GUILE OF A HUMOURIST. 177 
 
 ' Do you mean that they have bought it by 
 private contract ? " asked the vicar. 
 
 ' ' Well, such things happen," said Joe. ' ' But 
 I wouldn't venture an opinion." 
 
 ' But can an executor sell by private con- 
 tract any part of an estate left as Deakin's 
 was ? " 
 
 " Depends on the will," said Joe. " But 
 there may be other reasons for withdrawing 
 it from the sale. Keep your pecker up, sir. 
 I'll go and see Rufe, and let you know how the 
 land lies." 
 
 * ' I'm greatly obliged to you, Mr. Wentworth. 
 It will be very annoying to find that, after all, 
 we have been forestalled." 
 
 * ' Like drawin' a front tooth wi'oot gas, eh ? " 
 said Joe, with a wink. " I told you that the 
 Methodists, when they got to prayin' aboot a 
 thing, were ugly customers. Seems to me, sir, 
 there's not been much prayin' being done on your 
 side. Couldn't you have a prayer-meetin' ? " 
 It appears to me you might, if the Methodists 
 are as bad as the pestilence. If you'd call a 
 prayer-meetin' I'd be sure to come, just to see 
 how you'd get on. There's the churchwarden, 
 Grindling he couldn't pray to save his life 
 and Sowerby he might, but I guess it would 
 surprise the angels and the schoolmaster he'd 
 try, if he was hard put to it. But you could 
 send the prayer-book round." 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth, there are subjects that are 
 not fit for profane wit, and this is one of them." 
 
 " Why ? " said Joe. " I beg your pardon 
 if I have given offence. But I'll stake my best 
 horse against a gooseberry that Rufe has been
 
 i;8 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 on his knees forty times over this business. I've 
 a kind of notion that if I were a Christian, instead 
 of a Churchman, I'd lay my money on the prayin' 
 side. But every man must run his own funeral 
 as he likes." 
 
 Late that night a note was handed into the 
 Vicarage, which ran : 
 
 " Dear Vic, Rufe Wentworth knows nothing 
 about purchase of land so Methodies have not 
 got it, for what Rufe don't know about Methody 
 business ain't worth knowing. Again I say, 
 ' Keep your pecker up.' If you take a walk on 
 Friday morning, about ten o'clock, through the 
 village, you will see something that will warm 
 the cockles of your heart. J.W." 
 
 " What an insufferably coarse and rude man 
 he is ! " exclaimed the vicar. " I never met 
 with his equal. What does he mean, I wonder, 
 about Friday morning ? But it is a great relief 
 to know that so far we are not out-flanked." 
 
 The day of the sale arrived, and the large 
 dining-room in the Wycliffe Arms was crowded 
 when the auctioneer took his stand. 
 
 " See," said one, " there is old Jeffries from 
 Stamford. What's he after, I wonder ? Keen 
 old bloke ! Shouldn't wonder if he is in for 
 buying land and building a villa for his new 
 wife." 
 
 " Oh, Lady Wincanton will purchase. She 
 won't have anybody building either villa or 
 anything else at her park gates." 
 
 " I've heard say," said a third, " that the 
 Methodists were going to purchase for a chapel, 
 but I guess the figure will be too high for them." 
 
 " Oh, they will wait for the other plot to be
 
 THE GUILE OF A HUMOURIST. 179 
 
 sold if it is ever sold. It will suit their purposes 
 and pocket much better." 
 
 The auctioneer took his place at the head of 
 the table and called his clerk to read the con- 
 ditions of the sale. Then the bidding com- 
 menced. Lady Wincanton's agent led off with 
 a bid for four hundred pounds. " Four-fifty," 
 said the deep bass voice of Jeffries. " Five," 
 said the agent. " Five-fifty," continued Jeffries. 
 " Six-hundred pounds," replied the agent. 
 " Six- twenty-five," from Jeffries. "No, I've 
 done," replied the agent, in reply to an invitation 
 of the auctioneer to continue bidding. 
 
 * ' Six hundred and twenty-five pounds bidden. 
 Once, twice, the third and last time six " 
 Something like a thrill broke through the 
 audience as a shrill voice broke in with " Six- 
 fifty." Everybody turned to see who the new 
 bidder was, and discovered him in a beardless 
 youth, who stood carelessly twisting his watch- 
 guard round his finger. Seven-seventy-five, 
 eight hundred was reached. Then came a pause. 
 The last bid was the young stranger's. Jeffries 
 had reached his limit. Just then a small piece 
 of paper was thrust into his hand, upon which 
 he read " Go to a thousand," and was signed 
 by the Methodist minister. And so the bidding 
 went on, until Jeffries sprang at one leap from 
 nine hundred to a thousand pounds. The price 
 was now nearly double the worth of the land. 
 Excitement found expression in a slight stamp- 
 ing of the feet and clapping of the hands. There 
 was another moment's pause. 
 
 " It's against you, sir," cried the auctioneer. 
 
 " Eleven hundred," he cried.
 
 i8o ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 11 Twelve," cried Jeffries, for he was carried 
 out of himself. 
 
 " Fifteen hundred," said the youth. 
 
 An ominous silence followed, and the auc- 
 tioneer lingered, went through his usual parrot 
 cry, and the hammer fell. 
 
 " The buyer's name, please ? " shouted the 
 clerk. 
 
 " Spears and Sons, for Lady Wincanton," 
 was the reply.
 
 HE AND LORD SHEPFORTH WERE SHOT HEAD FOREMOST 
 INTO THE STREAM. 
 
 Chap. 16.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 A RACE. 
 
 ' ' You may as well physic the dead, as advise an old man." 
 
 ANON. 
 
 " KEEP your pecker up, Rufe. There's more 
 fish in the sea than was ever caught," exclaimed 
 Joe Wentworth, as he joined the little group 
 outside the hotel consisting of the Methodist 
 minister, his own brother, and several other 
 Methodists, who were discussing the auction. 
 
 " The fish in the sea binna much use to a 
 hungry man, Joe, and in this case the sea is only 
 a millpond, and the one fish in it seems to have 
 got hooked." 
 
 ' * Not on your line ? " said Joe. ' ' That's 
 the pity, I thought you believed in prayer, 
 Rufe Wentworth." 
 
 "Ay," rejoined Rufus, "so do I." 
 
 " How many prayer meetings have you had 
 over this business ? " 
 
 " A good many,' replied Rufus. " And a 
 large number of the Lord's people are praying 
 to-day about it." 
 
 " And the land is Lady Wincanton's after 
 all. Seems to me that either you are shootin' at 
 the wrong target, or you are good at missing. 
 I think you'd better give up those prayer meet- 
 ings, for all the use they are." 
 
 " I confess," said his brother, " I cannot
 
 1 82 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 understand it. I have prayed for hours about 
 our cause at Stourbridge, and I got the assurance 
 that all would be well ; but somehow things 
 to-day have gone wrong, and I'm nearer doubt- 
 ing God's Providence than I have been for 
 years." 
 
 ' ' I am sure that it will come all right, Brother 
 Wentworth," said the minister. " God is His 
 own interpreter, and He will make it plain." 
 
 " Humph," said Joe, " seems to me that this 
 is a case where somebody will need to lend a 
 helping hand at the explanations. But I want 
 you, Rufe, to come over to my place in the 
 morning on particular business. You can bring 
 the parson here if you like, and I will give you 
 both a spin round the country, behind the 
 smartest trotter in tjie shire. Nine o'clock, if 
 you want breakfast ; half-past if you don't." 
 
 " I'm not sure that I'm at liberty," said the 
 minister. 
 
 ' ' Pooh ! nonsense ; parsons do nothing before 
 dinner, as a rule. They generally begin business 
 when other folks leave off, and very little satisfies 
 them." 
 
 " That is not true," answered Mr. Evans 
 warmly. " I am down every morning at seven, 
 and in my study at eight. I can compare my 
 work ' 
 
 " Well," exclaimed Joe, " there's no need 
 to let off a charge of dynamite. Suppose, for 
 quietness' sake, we admit that you are an 
 exception to the rule, and that you prove it 
 by being at the farm in time for ham and eggs 
 in the morning. You don't seem over-fed. 
 I guess those good men expect you to preach
 
 A RACE. 183 
 
 three times on Sunday, and six times a week, 
 and then tell you to trust to Providence for 
 your salary. ' 
 
 " No, it's not quite so bad as that. When 
 I complain it will be time enough for others to 
 champion my cause," said the minister. " I 
 did not enter the Methodist ministry for a fat 
 living." 
 
 " If you did," said the unabashed Joe, " you 
 would be the biggest fool on two feet between 
 John o' Groats and Land's End. But, ta ta, 
 till the morning. I guess the vicar is blowing 
 a big horn to-night." 
 
 Joe was perfectly right. Directly the sale 
 was over the vicar hastened away to acquaint 
 Lady Wincanton with the result of the sale. 
 He met her driving through the park. Her joy 
 was somewhat chastened by the big price of the 
 land, for money was not too plentiful just then, 
 but nevertheless she was a happier woman than 
 she had been for many days. She took the 
 vicar home to dine with her, and every detail 
 of the day's proceedings was repeated. 
 
 Next morning, punctually as the clock struck 
 ten, the vicar turned the corner of the street 
 leading into the middle of the ^ village At 
 precisely the same moment a trap in the shafts 
 of which was a high-stepping horse swept round 
 the corner at the other end. In the trap was 
 seated Joe Wentworth and the Methodist minister 
 in front, and Rufus and Gwen behind, for 
 directly she had heard of the expedition she had 
 insisted upon joining it. Joe, on seeing her, 
 pretended to be very angry, and muttered 
 something about he did not want a parcel of
 
 184 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 women around, who would be far better at home 
 mending stockings. But she laughed at him, 
 called him a grumpy old bear, and told him he 
 could stop at home if he liked, for she was going. 
 
 Then Joe scored as a man of unbounded 
 impudence always can by saying, " that he 
 could quite understand that she would be glad 
 for both him and her father to remain behind, 
 but that while he disliked being a spoil sport, 
 he was not going to let her go gadding about 
 the country with a single young minister in HIS 
 trap," and then insisted upon putting her behind 
 with Rufus, who was made responsible for her 
 good behaviour. 
 
 " Where are you going, Uncle Joe ? " she 
 exclaimed, as soon as they started. 
 
 11 Ask no questions, and you'll be told no 
 lies," snapped Joe. 
 
 " You are a nasty, cross-grained old man," 
 she answered. " I'll not speak to you any 
 more this morning." 
 
 11 This is peace purchased at small cost," said 
 Joe to the minister. " But I dare say to you 
 the sound of a woman's tongue (if she is young 
 and beautiful) is delightful enough, no matter 
 what nonsense she talks. 
 
 " Is it quite fair to insinuate that Miss Went- 
 worth talks nonsense ? So far as I have heard, 
 her conversation is both interesting and sensible." 
 
 " Humph, then," said Joe, " she must keep 
 her sense for her friends, and her nonsense for 
 her relatives. A more addle-pated and con- 
 ceited " 
 
 " I'm listening, uncle," cried Gwen. " Mr. 
 Evans, don't believe a word he says."
 
 A RACE. 
 
 185 
 
 ' How much money have you got in hand 
 for the new chapel at Stourbridge ? " asked Joe, 
 suddenly changing the conversation. 
 
 ' In money, eighty pounds, in promises two 
 hundred ; but you know our people have been 
 discouraged by the unfortunate circumstances in 
 which they have been placed." 
 
 " And yet you bid one thousand for the 
 land. Where was the money coming from if 
 you had bought it ? " 
 
 " I don't know," replied the young minister, 
 " but I would have tramped the country 
 through if we had been fortunate enough to have 
 obtained the land, rather than not have built 
 the chapel. But it is no use talking. Our 
 last chance appears to have gone." 
 
 " It seems like it," rejoined Joe. " Get 
 on " (this to the mare.) ' ' She does not stop 
 to gossip, this one, does she ? " 
 
 " She is as fine a horse as I have seen for 
 many a day." 
 
 " You know something about gee-gees," 
 queried Joe. 
 
 " A little," replied the minister. " I was 
 brought up amongst them. The fact is, I have 
 a great passion for horses. To my mind, they 
 are the finest animals on four legs. A great 
 preacher says his recreation is to go out and 
 watch the big carthorses in the street." 
 
 " Sensible chap that," says Joe. " I should 
 like to know him." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Evans, " I'm pretty much 
 the same. When I was a boy there was not a 
 text in the Bible about horses I did not know, 
 from the wonderful description in Job of the
 
 1 86 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 war-horse, to those in Revelation about the 
 horses in heaven." 
 
 " Horses in heaven," said Joe. " I didn't 
 know they kept a stud there." 
 
 " My dear sir, I expect that one of the great 
 joys in heaven will be riding on fine horses, as 
 fleet as the wind, and ' 
 
 1 1 
 
 Hear that, Rule," shouted Joe. ' The 
 minister says there's to be hoss racing in heaven. 
 Guess I'll have you a turn, if we are allowed to 
 choose our own mounts. I thought heaven was 
 a kind of everlasting concert, but it seems they 
 do something sensible after all. I must look 
 that up when I get home." 
 
 " You are not the only one," said the minister, 
 " who thinks God's heaven is a poor place, 
 instead of one full of ever-changing delights. I 
 don't think there is any pure joy here, but what 
 will be repeated up yonder." 
 
 11 That's so ? " inquired Joe. " Guess I 
 shall have to get a ticket after all. There have 
 been times when I have thought the other place 
 would be more interesting, but if there's hosses 
 in heaven I might get a job in the stables, and 
 lend my harp to somebody else." 
 
 ' l Mr. Wentworth, listen " and the minister 
 repeated the description of the war-horse from 
 the Book of Job, the 39th chapter, the i8th to 
 25th verses. 
 
 " Where did you hear that ? Ay, that's fine, 
 though." 
 
 " That is from the Book of Job," rejoined 
 the minister. 
 
 " Well, if you'll preach from it, I'll come and 
 hear you," exclaimed Joe. " Say it again."
 
 A RACE. 
 
 187 
 
 The minister repeated it once again. He 
 had barely finished when they entered the 
 village. ' ' Hallo, there's the vie, I declare. 
 And hang my hat if yonder isn't LadyWincanton. 
 Better and better. And what's here," he con- 
 tinued, as he pulled up opposite the site which 
 had been withdrawn from the sale. Three men 
 were pounding soil around a post, upon which 
 was nailed a board. Over this was hung a piece 
 of old wrapping. 
 
 " Good morning, vicar," he cried to the 
 ecclesiastic, and at the same time lifted his hat 
 to Lady Wincanton, whose carriage stopped as 
 she leaned forward to speak to the clergyman. 
 
 " What have you got there, John ? " he 
 shouted to one of the men. " Pull his jacket 
 off, and let's see if it's another sale." 
 
 All eyes were turned on the man, who gave 
 a pull, and off came the wrapper, and then the 
 following notice was revealed : " SITE FOR 
 NEW METHODIST CHAPEL." 
 
 Lady Wincanton stood up in her carriage, 
 while she uttered a slight cry. The vicar turned 
 white. The minister sat speechless, while Gwen 
 clapped her hands, and Rufus uttered a tri- 
 umphant " Hallelujah." Joe alone was un- 
 disturbed, glancing from one to another, and 
 evidently enjoying the scene. 
 
 The vicar was the first to recover himself, 
 and walking up to the trap, said, in a voice 
 suppressed with passion, " This is one of your 
 tricks, Mr. Wentworth, and you have brought 
 us here that you may enjoy it." 
 
 ' ' There are more unlikely things," said Joe. 
 " I can't say but what it is better than ice
 
 i88 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 cream when it's snowing. I told you if you'd 
 come, you would see something to warm the 
 cockles of your heart, and if you are a true 
 minister of the Gospel, it ought to cheer you 
 to know that there is a prospect of fellow 
 Christians getting a suitable place of worship." 
 
 " But you don't mean to say that the 
 Methodists have bought this land," gasped the 
 minister. "If so you have cruelly deceived 
 me." 
 
 " No," said Joe, " they haven't bought it. 
 They never will buy it. I've given it 'em. I've 
 the deeds in my pocket, and I want to hand them 
 over to my brother and this minister in your 
 presence. Here, Rufe, catch hold. I give and 
 bequeath, and all the rest of it, to you and your 
 heirs for ever, etceterer." 
 
 " But how about Mr. Deakin's executors," 
 said the Vicar. " This is a huge joke, and the 
 farce had better end." 
 
 "Think so?" said Joe. "Well, ta, ta. 
 I told you that the Methodists' prayer meetings 
 would win, and they have. But you'd like to 
 know about the executors ? Well, I guess I'm 
 the only one there is under Squire Deakin's will. 
 Sole boss of the job. You see there was nobody 
 else he could trust in the parish. But Squire 
 Deakin's will has nothing to do with this bit of 
 land, or the other you bought yesterday. He 
 sold them to me a month before he died, signed, 
 sealed and delivered." 
 
 " I must see the will," said the vicar. " I 
 shall put the matter in the hands of my solicitor 
 forthwith." 
 
 "Do," said Joe. "It will find 'em some-
 
 A RACE. 
 
 189 
 
 thing to do, and you might as well spend your 
 money that way as any other. Spears and Co. 
 are decent fellows as lawyers go, though lawyers 
 are like a field o' frozen turnips, there's not 
 much to choose among 'em." 
 
 " You are a low trickster, sir. You are a 
 liar and a cheat." 
 
 Joe's eyebrows went up, and he pushed the 
 reins into the hands of the minister. " Here, 
 hold these reins," he said, " and I'll be down." 
 
 Lady Wincanton screamed, and ordered her 
 coachman to seize that dreadful man ; but he, 
 thinking discretion the better part of valour, 
 remained on his seat. Rufus, fearing his 
 brother's impetuous temper, also sprang to the 
 ground, with an agility that did credit to his 
 years. But there was no need for alarm. Joe 
 once on the ground faced the clergyman, and 
 said, " You have called me a liar and cheat, in 
 the presence of these ladies. Now will you 
 apologise to them and me ? " 
 
 " Really, Mr. Wentworth," stammered the 
 vicar. 
 
 ' ' Will you apologise ? Yes or no," thun- 
 dered Joe. 
 
 ' ' Yes ; ladies, I beg your pardon, and yours 
 Mr. Wentworth, but the circumstances are so 
 peculiar that you must allow I have had great 
 provocation." 
 
 " Granted," said Joe. " Now that's settled ; 
 but don't do it again." 
 
 By this time quite a little crowd had gathered, 
 wondering what was the matter, and most of all 
 at the strange board with its inscription. 
 
 ' ' This looks like a camp meeting," said Joe.
 
 190 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 11 Suppose we adjourn. Rufe you tell the folk 
 when the new chapel will be built, and I will walk 
 a little way with the vicar, and explain some 
 things he does not understand. Come, sir, 
 unless you want to give the first donation 
 towards the building fund." 
 
 The vicar did not reply, but stepping to Lady 
 Wincanton's carriage he held a few minutes' 
 conversation. Her carriage then drove away, 
 and he followed Joe down the street. 
 
 ' ' Now," said the latter, ' ' I guess there binna 
 much to tell you, except that when I heard 
 Deakin was ill I called to see him in a friendly 
 way, and he was troubled about his will. He'd 
 neither kith nor kin that he cared to leave it to, 
 and so I suggested that he should leave it to the 
 hospitals and orphanage of his native town. 
 It was all in money and shares except these 
 two pieces of land, and I offered to buy them 
 at his own price, which was a thousand pounds. 
 He wanted to tie me up at first to some con- 
 ditions, viz., that I would not sell to Lady 
 Wincanton, but I explained the little scheme I 
 had in my head, and he smiled, and I think it 
 helped him to die easy, for though he would not 
 sell to the Methodies in his lifetime, he had 
 nothing against them, while he liked her ladyship 
 as much as a cat likes poison." 
 
 " But you made me believe that you were an 
 honest Churchman, and did not want the 
 Methodists to buy this site." 
 
 1 'The other site," corrected Joe. "Neither 
 did I, because I knew Lady Wincanton's heart 
 was set on it, and I never like to disappoint a 
 lady. Besides, if the Methodies bought that
 
 A RACE. ,0! 
 
 site, my little game would have been spoilt." 
 ' I must say, Mr. Wentworth, I think you 
 have not treated either Lady Wincanton or 
 myself fairly." 
 
 " Na'ay," said Joe. "I told you nothing 
 but the truth. It's a case of the biter bit. 
 Give my regards to her ladyship, and tell her 
 I am glad she bought the other site. I cal- 
 culated she would, because a Methody chapel 
 just outside the park gates would have been an 
 eyesore to her, though why it should be is a bit 
 of a puzzle to me, seeing that there is a public- 
 house on the other side. But rich folks have 
 their whims and fancies, and, of course, they 
 are prepared to pay for them. I reckoned on 
 that when I bought the land, and I made a guess 
 that I could get one thousand for the one site 
 which would just keep matters square if I gave 
 the other site to the Methodies ; and when I 
 saw how set on it my brother Rufe was, I said 
 to myself I would do it, and be neither richer 
 nor poorer. But it upset my calculation when 
 the park site fetched five hundred more than I 
 bargained for. I was completely flabbergasted, 
 but you see there was a woman in the case, 
 and you never can calculate to a hair's breadth 
 where they are concerned." 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth," replied the vicar, " I 
 consider you have treated both myself and 
 Lady Wincanton very shabbily. You have 
 made us your dupes." 
 
 " Well," said Joe, " I allow you've been had, 
 and all things considered I say it serves you 
 right. You've behaved pretty mean yourself 
 towards the Methodists, so if there is to be any
 
 192 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 stone-throwing and glass houses broken, look 
 out for your own. But before I say ta, ta, I 
 want to ease my conscience." 
 
 "Conscience!" exclaimed the vicar. "It 
 would apear to me you did not possess a 
 
 conscience." 
 < i 
 
 ( c 
 
 Oh ! but I do," said Joe cheerfully, 
 although I don't trot it out every day for 
 any dog to bark at. Indeed, there are times 
 when I think I am about the only man on this 
 country-side who has one, the others have worn 
 theirs out, while mine is as good as new, 'cause 
 I only bring it out on special occasions. And 
 this is one. Now, I've told you I didn't cal- 
 culate to make any profit on this deal. But I've 
 got five hundred pounds, which seems like virtue 
 rewarded. I propose to give the Methodies half 
 towards the new chapel, and as you want a new 
 heating apparatus at the church which is one 
 reason folks won't come, the coldness gives the 
 folks rheumatics, and skyatics I'll give you 
 the other two hundred and fifty for that object." 
 " Really, Mr. Wentworth," said the vicar, 
 " I hardly know what to say to your strange 
 proposal." 
 
 " I know thou doesn't," said Joe. " You 
 are the vicar of the parish, but the real vicar 
 lives at the hall and wears petticoats. She'll 
 have her say. But it's all one to me. It is a 
 case of ask and have. If you don't want it, 
 there are those who will not refuse a cheque for 
 250. Now, I think Rufe will have got his 
 sermon over, and I've promised the parson a ride 
 behind the fastest trotter in this county. So, 
 1 Good morning.' '
 
 A RACE. I93 
 
 Joe was hurrying away, and then suddenly 
 recollecting something, he shouted "Hi!" The 
 vicar turned, and Joe walked back a pace. He 
 asked, ' ' Do you think, Vic, there are any hosses 
 in heaven ? " 
 
 The vicar, thinking Joe was ' ' having him," 
 as the latter put it, turned on his heel and 
 walked off. 
 
 " I've kind of hurt his feelings," said Joe. 
 ' But I should like to have heard his opinion. 
 I'll ask the Vicar of Summerton. Now Rufe," 
 said he, when he joined the group. " Jump in 
 aside me. You are too heavy at the back. The 
 minister and I have more above the neck and 
 less below than most folk. He is light weight." 
 
 "Why," said Mr. Evans, "I believe I'm 
 just one pound heavier than your brother," 
 nevertheless eagerly jumping into the seat 
 behind. 
 
 " Young man," said Joe, " you may have 
 your own weight, but you haven't the weight 
 of Brother Rufe. He'd weigh three men your 
 size and five the size of the vicar. Besides, 
 there's Gwen never given me anything but black 
 looks since we started. She wants to do a spell 
 at courtin'. She never can see a young man 
 but she wants to go for him, and as for parsons, 
 she's dead gone on 'em." 
 
 " Uncle Joe," she exclaimed, " if you don't 
 hold your tongue I shall box your ears." 
 
 "That's it," said Joe. " If I speak the 
 truth I'm bullied, and if I hold my noise I'm 
 sulky. There's nothing for it but fibbing if 
 you are to get on with her. Tell her she's an 
 angel and she'll smile like the mornin' sun, 
 
 N
 
 194 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 but tell her the plain honest fact that she's a flirt, 
 and look out for thunderstorms. Now, Rufe, 
 hold tight. We are going to make this tit 
 understand that she is not to let the daisies grow 
 under her feet. Git." 
 
 Mr. Evans never forgot that ride. Joe simply 
 gave the mare her head, and she flew along, pass- 
 ing everything on the road. Her master watched 
 her with a critical eye for the first mile or two, 
 contenting himself with clicking his tongue 
 occasionally and murmuring, " Git on, lass." 
 
 Rufus sat silent and happy over the unexpected 
 good fortune that had befallen the Stourbridge 
 Methodists, and reflecting on the complex 
 character of his brother. Joe was certainly a 
 surprise packet. It was impossible to measure 
 him by ordinary standards, or to expect him 
 to conform to conventional methods. 
 
 The minister and Gwen were engaged in 
 animated conversation on the respective merits 
 of Southey and Wordsworth. The sun shone 
 gloriously, and the fine October morning seemed 
 to make all nature glad. Joe nodded or shouted 
 to everybody he met, and seemed in the best of 
 tempers. 
 
 " He's never as happy as when he's taken 
 somebody in," Bill, his waggoner, used to say, 
 and it certainly did seem to add to his enjoyment 
 of life. At length he turned to his brother and 
 asked, " Well, how do you like the site for the 
 new chapel ? " 
 
 " Could not be better," replied Rufus. 
 
 " Seems some use in praying after all," said 
 Joe. " But the vicar's hipped." 
 
 " He will get over it," said Rufus.
 
 A RACE. I9S 
 
 "Might get jaundice, though. He looked 
 like it," replied his brother. 
 
 ' Joe," said Rufus, after a pause, " I want 
 to thank you, but I don't know how." 
 
 ' ' Do you see that hedge ? If you say another 
 word, over you go," snapped Joe. " Now 
 lassie, a bit faster, Git." 
 
 ' Where are you going ? " asked Rufus. 
 
 " To Hawkrock Castle. Never been there 
 since we were lads. Do you remember how 
 we dined off blackberry pie wi'oot crust, and 
 told our fortunes by blowing dandelions ? You 
 said you'd like to be a parson, and I wanted to 
 be a jockey. I thought I'd like to see the place 
 once more and give the youngsters behind a 
 treat. This is my birthday." 
 
 " Oh, is it ? " replied Rufus. " Let me see. 
 You're fifty-six and I'm sixty. I don't feel 
 anything like that age." 
 
 " Never felt younger in my life. I can eat 
 well, drink well, and sleep well. I ought to be 
 thinking about getting married, but I'm too 
 busy, and am afraid I'm too callow yet. I 
 might get taken in," said Joe, and he grinned 
 from ear to ear." 
 
 " c He that findeth a wife findeth a good 
 thing,' Solomon says," replied Rufus. 
 
 " Well, if experience counts for ought, he 
 should know," said Joe. ' ' All right there 
 behind. Got day fixed yet ? " 
 
 "Yes," replied Gwen. "The stone-laying 
 is to be on Christmas day, and the chapel opening 
 on my birthday July yth." 
 
 "Hang my hat up. That girl's ready for 
 anything," he replied. " The man that marries
 
 196 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 her won't have to keep his wits in cotton wool. 
 He'll get razors for breakfast if the harness 
 galls." 
 
 After a twenty miles drive, they arrived at 
 Hawkrock, a quaint old world village, and 
 driving up to the hotel Joe ordered dinner for 
 four. When it was over, they wandered about 
 the park and old castle, Joe taking an almost 
 childish interest in hunting up the places where 
 they had sat or played nearly fifty years before. 
 After a most delightful afternoon they returned 
 to tea. Never was there a merrier party. Joe 
 told story after story, until Rufus begged him 
 to desist, for he had laughed until his sides were 
 sore. 
 
 Here his brother surprised them still more by 
 flinging a cheque for two hundred and fifty 
 pound at the minister, and telling him to enter 
 it as an anonymous contribution to the building 
 fund. 
 
 Mr. Evans could hardly believe his eyes, and 
 Gwen jumped up and kissed her uncle. 
 
 " Here, stop that, young lady," he cried. 
 " You ought to be prosecuted for taking a man 
 unawares in that violent fashion. I shall not 
 get over the shock to my nerves for a week. 
 Besides, I've a confession to make, and it's 
 heavy on my conscience." He then told the 
 story of how he had acquainted the vicar of 
 what the Methodists intended to do in relation 
 to the sale, and gave an account of the whole 
 course of events that had taken place. " So 
 that is ' conscience money,' ' he said, " for 
 splittin' on Rufe and his little scheme ? He 
 binna no good at scheming. He never was.
 
 A RACE. I97 
 
 It takes a man wi' a spice of the devil in him 
 to win on a move like this. But mind, no 
 blabbing or not another farthin' do you ever 
 get of my money." 
 
 They started home in high spirits and had 
 just reached the top of the hill, about two miles 
 from the village, when Joe suddenly gave a 
 shout. ' ' Yo, ho ! yonder's Harold Wincanton 
 driving Briton, the roan. He bought it from 
 me at the beginning of the season. He's a 
 capital horse, but I guess this mare can trot 
 his tail off. We will see which is the best bit 
 of horseflesh fore long. Swish, lassie, Gee," 
 and he touched the mare lightly with the whip. 
 Flinging her head up, as if insulted by the lash, 
 she sprang forward at a rate that made her 
 former pace seem crawling in comparison. 
 
 " Good," exclaimed her master. " She's off. 
 Hold tight there behind. Easy, there, mare, 
 too fast is as bad as too slow." Gradually they 
 gained on the yellow gig before them, in which 
 sat Harold Wincanton and Lord Shepworth, 
 one of the wildest young sparks, and the despair 
 of his parents. 
 
 For a time they did not notice the trap behind. 
 It happened that just at that moment Harold 
 was boasting to his companion that his roan 
 could beat anything on four legs. " I got him 
 from a queer little chap who lives on the estate, 
 who knows a good thing in horses when he sees 
 it. He made me pay pretty stiff, but I've had 
 a good bit offered since for my bargain, but I 
 will not part." 
 
 " Somebody's coming behind yonder, driving 
 like old Harry," said Shepworth.
 
 198 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " Gad," exclaimed Harold, "it's Wentworth. 
 The chap I've been speaking about. Talk of 
 the devil, eh ? I hear he has bought a new mare 
 that he thinks can trot. We will let him see 
 how to handle the ribbons. Get on, Briton." 
 
 Briton responded nobly to the call of his 
 master, and for the next two miles there was 
 no appreciable lessening of the difference be- 
 tween the two parties. But Joe, having come 
 to the conclusion that Harold meant racing, 
 had slackened the pace a little ; knowing the 
 extra staying power of the roan, he did not 
 want to take too much out of the mare. In a 
 few minutes there they were on the common 
 with a straight road for four long miles before 
 them. Directly they entered on this Joe again 
 touched the mare with the whip, and she res- 
 ponded as before. 
 
 " Gad," exclaimed Lord Shepworth, " he 
 is gaining on us. Give him beans." 
 
 Little by little the trap drew up, until but 
 a few yards divided them. Harold kept the 
 middle of the road, and Joe shouted to him to 
 make way for them to pass. His only reply 
 was to lash the horse ferociously, which was 
 now doing its best. 
 
 " I'll take the paint off his wheels, if he does 
 not get out of the road," cried Joe. " Hi, there, 
 what are you crawling at ? " 
 
 For half a mile they continued, the nose of 
 the black mare being close to the gig, Joe shout- 
 ing and raving at Wincanton, who took no 
 notice. But suddenly the road widened, and 
 with a shout to his horse, Joe shot past, shaking 
 his whip in triumph as he did so.
 
 A RACE. I99 
 
 Harold politely took off his hat to Miss Went- 
 worth, and smiled ironically. Inch by inch, 
 the distance widened between the two vehicles, 
 until Joe seemed to be in a fair way of leaving 
 his rivals behind altogether, when suddenly the 
 black mare floundered, nearly pitched on her 
 knees, and with difficulty recovered herself. 
 A stone had wedged itself in one of her shoes, 
 and the party narrowly escaped a serious 
 accident. 
 
 With his usual promptitude, Joe was out in a 
 moment, and having discovered the cause, set 
 himself to extricate the stone. In a few minutes 
 Wincanton overtook them, and pulling up for 
 a moment, shouted, " If Miss Wentworth is in 
 a hurry, we will take her with us." 
 
 It took a few moments to get the stone out, 
 and then Joe jumped up and looked ruefully 
 along the road, where the yellow gig was fast 
 disappearing in the distance, 
 
 " Let 'em go," said Rufus, " and don't dis- 
 tress the mare any more." 
 
 "Hold hard there," was Joe's comment. 
 "This is my funeral, and I'll run it as I like. 
 Git, lassie." 
 
 Once more the mare threw up her head, and 
 sprang forward at a rate which fairly alarmed 
 the minister. 
 
 "Mr. Wentworth," he exclaimed, ''really I 
 must protest. It is neither safe nor seemly to 
 drive like this." 
 
 But Joe either did not hear or took no notice. 
 His eyes flashed under his bushy eyebrows. 
 His jaws were set, and his sinewy fingers 
 clutched the reins, as though he would impart
 
 200 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 some of his own determination to the horse 
 through this medium. 
 
 Very gradually but surely the distance again 
 lessened between the two conveyances, the 
 plucky mare thundering away with nose dilated, 
 and eyes aflame, as though she was determined 
 to win or die in the attempt. Joe, in his eager- 
 ness, partly sat and partly knelt, humouring her 
 as a fisherman does a shy fish, and saying nothing 
 but an occasional " Gee, lassie," as a lover 
 might speak to his mistress. 
 
 Meanwhile the occupants of the gig had not 
 failed to note that once more he was gaining 
 ground. Harold did not spare his horse. 
 
 " A level tenner he catches you," said his 
 companion. 
 
 " For the last three minutes we have been 
 gaining ground," said Harold. " When we get 
 to the Stourbridge Hill we shall leave them 
 behind. I'll take twenty to one that I'm at 
 the village pump first." 
 
 " Right, he's coming like a thunderbolt. 
 Gad, I should like a mare like that. Three to 
 one in hundreds he overtakes you." 
 
 " Done," cried Harold, setting his teeth. 
 "The horse is just finding his speed. Go it 
 Briton." 
 
 " He's getting nearer," cried Shepworth," 
 excitedly. " I'll double my bet." 
 
 " Treble it if you like," replied Wincanton. 
 " This horse is noted for his staying power, 
 and yonder is the hill." 
 
 All this time, at intervals, Rufus, and the 
 minister and Gwen had entreated Joe to give 
 up the race, but they might as well have spoken
 
 A RACE. 20I 
 
 to the wind. He heard neither entreaty nor 
 expostulation, but simply waved his hand, and 
 shouted to the mare. 
 
 Three hundred yards, two, one, and then 
 a few strides separated the two conveyances. 
 
 ; ' Double again," shouted Shepworth. 
 
 " Done," said Harold, lashing his horse un- 
 mercifully. 
 
 They had now reached the bottom of a long, 
 steep hill, and a brief glance told him that the 
 mare behind was showing signs of distress, 
 while his own horse was going strong as ever. 
 Joe was too skilful a driver, however, to let his 
 horse take the hill at the tremendous pace at 
 which it had been travelling, and eased up. 
 
 Again, the distance between the two widened, 
 for the roan hardly altered his long swinging 
 stride. 
 
 " Britan's the best hill climber, I know," 
 muttered Joe, ' ' besides we have a heavier load. 
 We must let them go ahead." 
 
 " Ay," said Rufus. " You have shown what 
 the mare can do. I've never seen anything like 
 it." 
 
 "Yes," said the preacher, "let them go. 
 Undoubtedly yours is the faster horse, but it 
 is not fair to distress her farther." 
 
 By this time the yellow gig was leaving them 
 well behind, and Harold turned with a leer on 
 his face to his companion, and said, " Double 
 again ? " 
 
 "No," he said, "I've had enough. Gad, 
 I think you are going to win." 
 
 ' ' I told you so," was the answer. ' ' Why, 
 Wentworth told me himself that this roan is the
 
 202 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 best thing on the road, and he knows. See how 
 splendidly he is taking this rise, and has not 
 turned a hair." 
 
 " Splendid," replied the other, who never- 
 theless wished that the horse was a little less 
 plucky, seeing what he had on the result of 
 the race. Looking behind, he saw the mare 
 was taking things very easily, and that the 
 driver was chatting and laughing with his 
 companions. 
 
 But the brow of the hill was reached, and 
 there was a mile straight run down into the 
 village. When the trap reached the top Harold 
 was thundering down at a break-neck pace. 
 " Git, lassie," shouted Joe, and away went the 
 mare once more like an arrow. 
 
 11 Stop," thundered Rufus, now thoroughly 
 alarmed, " Do you want to kill us all ? " 
 
 Joe, tense and eager simply shouted to his 
 horse, which was flying along at a most terrific 
 speed. 
 
 ' ( This is madness," cried the preacher. ' ' Sir, 
 I command you to stop." 
 
 Joe took no notice. The monotonous, " Git, 
 lassie," was falling from his lips at intervals, and 
 he kept his eye on the church steeple down in 
 the valley. The trap rocked from side to side, 
 and the occupants had the greatest difficulty 
 in keeping their seats. Gwen, in real terror 
 clung to the minister's arm, and her face was 
 drawn and white. Rufus, had shut his eyes, 
 and was praying, assured that it was no use 
 of further remonstrating. 
 
 The minister rose with some dim notion of 
 stretching over and clutching the reins, but was
 
 A RACE. 203 
 
 flung violently against Miss Wentworth, and 
 but for her, would have fallen out of the trap. 
 
 For the third and last time, the two convey- 
 ances drew close together. 
 
 A little ahead there was a bridge over the 
 river. It was barely wide enough for them to 
 cross together. The roan was a full neck ahead, 
 as they approached the narrow pass. 
 
 ' Draw up, you fool," shouted Wincanton. 
 ' Git lassie," hissed Joe. 
 
 With one supreme effort, the brave little mare 
 shot ahead. The roan swerved half an inch, 
 and the trap was on the edge of the bridge. A 
 cry broke forth, at the same instant from the 
 occupants of both conveyances. The wheel 
 scraped the shoulder of the roan. Harold lost 
 nerve for a moment, and the next, he and Lord 
 Shepworth were shot head foremost into the 
 stream as the wheel of the gig struck the parapet 
 of the bridge. The wheel was wrenched off, 
 and the shafts broken, and the terrified horse 
 fled like lightning, passing the occupants of the 
 trap, who sat horror-stricken by what had 
 occurred. Joe pulled up as quickly as he could, 
 and leaving his horse in charge of his brother, 
 he and the minister went back to render what 
 assistance they could. In the meantime Lord 
 Shepworth, who was not badly hurt, managed 
 to wade to the bank, for fortunately the river 
 was not very deep, and was trying to pull his 
 companion out of the water. 
 
 " Give a hand," he cried. " I'm afraid he 
 is badly hurt." 
 
 They drew him on to the grass, and his com- 
 panion pulled a flask from his pocket, and poured
 
 204 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 a little brandy into his mouth. Slowly he 
 recovered consciousness, and when he opened 
 his eyes he saw Joe bending over him. He 
 attempted to say something, and then swooned 
 again. 
 
 When he recovered a second time, Joe saw 
 his lips moving, and bending down he caught 
 the words, " How much will you take for the 
 mare ? " 
 
 In the meantime the villagers had been alarmed 
 by the clattering of the runaway horse through 
 the village, and after stopping him, they came 
 along to see what had happened, and with them 
 the doctor. He quickly examined the prostrate 
 man, pronounced no bones broken, but found 
 a bad bruise on the left shoulder and head. 
 
 " He will be all right in a few days," he said, 
 much to the relief of the occupants of the trap, 
 who, somehow, all felt a measure of condemna- 
 tion for what had happened. They lifted him 
 into the trap, and drove him to the hotel at the 
 park gates, by which time he had recovered 
 consciousness. " Where is Lord Shepworth ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " Here," answered his companion, gloomily 
 enough. 
 
 " I've won. It was my bet," he said, raising 
 himself up, and then fainted.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 SHE SANG OF HOME. 
 
 Some songs have power to quiet 
 The restless pulse of care, 
 And come like the benediction 
 That follows after prayer." 
 
 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 " HAROLD, where are you going ? " 
 
 " I am thinking of running up to London, 
 mother mine. I'm sick to death of this place. 
 One might as well be buried alive." 
 
 " You must do nothing of the kind. I have 
 invited Lord Fortesque and his daughter Evelyn 
 to come and spend a week-end with us. Un- 
 fortunately his lordship cannot leave his Parlia- 
 mentary duties, but Evelyn is coming to- 
 morrow." 
 
 ' ' And what has that to do with me ? " he 
 asked almost insolently. 
 
 " Much, very much," replied his mother in 
 answer to his rude question. 
 
 His mother and he had quarrelled very fre- 
 quently of late, and on the previous evening 
 there had been a very disagreeable quarter of 
 an hour when, armed with information supplied 
 by Adele, she had charged him with frequent 
 meetings with Miss Wentworth. It had ended 
 in Harold leaving the room in high dudgeon, 
 declaring that he would do as he liked, and marry 
 whom he liked. Hence the tone in which he
 
 206 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 met the information now given him. At any 
 other time he would have been delighted to 
 learn that the monotony of the life at Stour- 
 bridge was to be broken by having such a 
 charming visitor as Miss Fortesque, whom he 
 had met on two previous occasions in London. 
 But he was in too ill a humour to be propitiated. 
 
 " Evelyn Fortesque is one of the most 
 charming girls in our set, and when her father 
 dies will inherit his vast estate, and vaster 
 fortune. If you would only be sensible, and 
 make the most of the opportunity which is 
 thrown in your way, there is no reason why 
 you may not be the owner of both, and a 
 beautiful young wife in the bargain." 
 
 " Thank you for nothing, mother mine. If 
 I remember rightly, half the young lordlings 
 in London had entered into a race for Miss 
 Fortesque when we met last, and with young 
 Stewart of Glenalmound making the running, 
 I have no desire to figure as the tail-end man. 
 Then, if I am not misinformed, Miss Evelyn is 
 puritanically inclined like her father, whose 
 religion turns sour on my stomach and, with 
 the very best intentions in the world, I could 
 not get on with a wife who spent half her time 
 between meetings at Exeter Hall and slumming 
 in Whitechapel." 
 
 " Don't be absurd, Harold. Though one 
 might think you had Methodist tendencies, 
 considering the quarter to which you have 
 directed your attentions lately. As for the 
 rest, I think you have as good a chance as any 
 of Miss Fortesque's admirers. But, in any 
 case, you will see how impossible it is for you
 
 SHE SANG OF HOME. 207 
 
 to go away under the circumstances. Beside 
 I have it in mind to have quite a large house 
 party during Evelyn's visit. I must have 
 you to help to entertain. You cannot go to 
 London at present, that is certain." 
 
 " Well," replied Harold, " let it be so. ' But 
 I must have some cash, and " 
 
 Lady Wincanton made an impatient gesture, 
 and was about to speak, but Harold continued : 
 
 ' ' Very well, then I must go to London. Lord 
 Welby owes me two hundred and fifty, and I 
 must hunt him up. I have several accounts 
 that must be paid." 
 
 " I will let you have the money," replied his 
 mother, " but I wish once more to warn you 
 that I cannot be constantly meeting demands 
 of this kind. Your allowance is a liberal one, 
 and should cover all your needs." 
 
 ' ' I've been deuced unlucky lately," grumbled 
 her son. " I very nearly pulled off a couple 
 of thousands at Doncaster, and should have 
 done so if the fool of a jockey who rode Firefly 
 had understood him. And then that new hunter 
 I bought from Wentworth went wrong and had 
 to be shot, through the carelessness of the 
 groom. Besides, I have had other losses. But 
 I have some information of a sure thing for the 
 Derby, and I stand to gain a pot of money, and 
 then I will pay you back." 
 
 Lady Wincanton sighed, for she knew how 
 vain such promises were. But she forthwith 
 went and filled up a cheque for 300, and kissing 
 her son as she handed it to him, said, * ' Now 
 be a good boy." 
 
 " All right, mater," he exclaimed, as he
 
 208 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 glanced at the amount. " I will be as good as 
 a sexton on Sundays. By the way, I gave 
 permission to the Secretary of the Hospital Fund 
 at Whitehurst to use your name as one of the 
 patronesses of the concert they are going to hold 
 next week. I had forgotten all about it till the 
 tickets came by post this morning. It is going 
 to be a big thing. Madame Catroni, the prima 
 donna, and one or two other stars are coming. 
 I hope you don't object." 
 
 " Oh no, not at all ! " she replied. " I shall 
 be delighted, and we will take Evelyn with us. 
 I think it is right we should patronise all these 
 local institutions, if it does not cost too much." 
 
 But Harold did not tell her that he had 
 another reason for wanting her to be at the 
 concert namely, that Gwen was to sing. She 
 had successfully passed her examination, and 
 was now entitled to write L.R.A.M. at the end 
 of her name. But this concert was the greatest 
 event of her life. To sing in company with a 
 prima donna nearly took her breath away, and 
 she was on the tip-toe of excited enjoyment. 
 
 ' ' There will be no touchin' her wi' a long pole 
 now, Rufe," said Joe Wentworth, when she 
 informed him of the engagement " You and 
 the missus will have to live in the back kitchen 
 and give her the parlour." 
 
 " Tra la la ! lal ! lal ! alah alah," sang Gwen 
 in sheer lightheartedness, laughing all the time 
 at Joe's grumpishness. 
 
 "Rufe, you'd better come up to my place 
 till she gets over it," he continued. " Fancy 
 being compelled to listen to that for a fortnight. 
 It's at bad as toothache. I'd as soon attend
 
 SHE SANG OF HOME. 209 
 
 four funerals a day. Guess she'll want a new 
 dress for this squealing contest," he continued 
 as Gwen put her fingers in her ears and ran 
 upstairs, filling the house with music. ' ' We 
 monno let her disgrace the family. I'll foot 
 the bill, seem' I've no wife to keep me poor, and 
 no children to keep me humble." 
 
 " Why," said Rufus, " she's plenty of dresses. 
 She looks well in anything." 
 
 " You know nowt about it," said Joe. " If 
 she has plenty of dresses, she's the only woman 
 in the county that has. But whether or no I'm 
 the buyer. Only tell her to let it be something 
 neat and modest a good poppy red, or orange 
 yellow, would be my choice." 
 
 " Get out," cried Rufus, " you want the girl 
 to set fire to the Public Hall wi' your poppy red. 
 She has far too much sense to buy anything 
 of the kind." 
 
 " Well, well, have it your own way. Tell her 
 I shall come and drive her over, and if she does 
 not sing her best I'll run the trap into a ditch 
 coming back, and land her in the mud." 
 
 The eventful evening arrived, and as Gwen, 
 radiant in health and spirits, took her seat by 
 the side of Joe, she certainly looked very beauti- 
 ful, and a prouder man than the farmer it would 
 have been difficult to find. 
 
 ' ' I'll pray for thee, lass," said Rufus, as^they 
 started. To him there was nothing incongruous 
 in asking a blessing on Gwen's gift of song. 
 " Praying always " was not difficult to him. 
 
 On the road they overtook the carnage of 
 Lady Wincanton, in which, seated by the side 
 of Harold, was the most beautiful young lady
 
 210 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Gwen had ever seen, whom she heard as they 
 passed laughing at something he was saying. 
 A spasm of jealousy shot into Gwen's heart as 
 she coldly returned his bow. 
 
 " That will be Miss Fortesque," said Joe, 
 " the young lady, it is said, young Wincanton 
 is to marry. If she knew as much about him 
 as I do she'd set up a laundry and take in 
 washin' sooner than have him." 
 
 ''Why?" asked Gwen. 
 
 " You've heard," said Joe, " of the man who 
 sold a hoss wi' only two faults. When he was 
 asked what they were, he said the first was ' he 
 was hard to catch,' and the second was * he 
 wasn't worth catching.' Guess that's the 
 measure of yon young spark. I heard the vicar 
 say the other Sunday, ' ' Most men are a mixture 
 of mud and marble.' Well, if there's any marble 
 about him, it's his heart ; but I'm thinking the 
 rest of him is all mud, only it's baked hard. 
 There was a bookmaker wi' a nose like an eagle's 
 beak lookin' him up the other day, and I 
 happened to run agin him in the train goin' 
 back. A March hare is perfect sanity where he 
 came in for down-reet madness. It seems 
 Wincanton was in his ribs for some pretty big 
 amount a racing debt and when he went 
 for it the young man coolly set the dog on him, 
 and he was threatened by Abraham, Isaac, 
 and Jacob what he would do. But see, here's 
 Whitehurst. Now, lass, sing like a seraphim 
 at a picnic, and you'll sweep the floor with the 
 lot of them." 
 
 Gwen had been greatly perturbed at the idea 
 of meeting Madame Catroni, the famous
 
 SHE SANG OF HOME. 
 
 211 
 
 Australian soprano, who had been induced to 
 come down to Whitehurst by Lord Wolvers 
 (a local magnate), with whom she had formed 
 a friendship in Italy. The whole of the nobility 
 and gentry for miles around had turned out to 
 do honour to the occasion, and the great Public 
 Hall was packed to its utmost capacity. Gwen 
 was greatly relieved when, on going into the 
 dressing room, she was introduced to a sweet 
 little lady about thirty, who greeted her warmly, 
 and assisted her to remove her cloak, and then 
 forthwith began to question her about her 
 songs. 
 
 " I'm fearfully nervous. I'm afraid I shall 
 break down." she replied. " I've never sung 
 at a big concert like this before." 
 
 " Oh, you won't, dear," replied the great 
 singer. " You will do well, never fear. Don't 
 think of yourself, think only of your song." 
 
 The concert proceeded through several items, 
 and at length it came to Gwen's turn to sing. 
 She had chosen " Home, sweet home." She 
 received an encouraging welcome, Joe Went- 
 worth leading the clapping The song exactly 
 suited her voice, and she sang it to perfection. 
 She fairly captured her audience, and when she 
 had finished the demand for an encore was over- 
 whelming. Her second song was, if anything, 
 a greater triumph than the first, and her cup 
 of happiness was full when the prima donna 
 came and, putting her arm round her neck, 
 kissed her, saying : ' ' Splendid, my dear. You 
 have a great gift." 
 
 Upon leaving, she was overwhelmed with 
 congratulations. Among others, Harold Win-
 
 212 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 canton pushed his way through the crowd, and, 
 holding out his hand, said : " I wish to offer 
 my congratulations to the star of the evening. 
 Miss Wentworth, your singing was superb. 
 
 " Pooh," replied Joe, who came up just at 
 the moment, " it might have been better. 
 That top note was as flat as a pancake." 
 
 " I don't agree with you," answered Harold. 
 <c It was magnificent, as far as my opinion goes." 
 
 ' ' Which is not very far," broke in Joe. ' ' But 
 anyhow, Queenie, to stand here in this draught 
 will make you as hoarse as a crow, so you had 
 better come. Besides, the mare is getting as im- 
 patient as a hungry man at a club feast. The 
 sooner she gets her tail turned to the North Pole 
 and her head towards the Red Acres, the better 
 she will be pleased." 
 
 " I cannot stand that fellow at any price," 
 he said when Gwen got seated in the trap. "But, 
 my stars, you did make things hum to-night." 
 
 " I thought you said just now that it might 
 have been better," Gwen answered. 
 
 " Well," replied Joe, " there binna owt that 
 can't be improved on, except its my hosses and 
 your dad's roses. I was not goin' to let on 
 afore strangers that you had given anything 
 out of the common." 
 
 " Well, I think its downright mean of you 
 to speak as you did to Mr. Wincanton before all 
 those people. I won't go with you to a concert 
 again no, never." 
 
 * ' Well," replied Joe, ' ' if a bracelet the best 
 you can get in Whitehurst will settle the 
 matter between us, we will say it is bought. 
 Gee, up, lassie. Yon is Lady Wincanton's
 
 SHE SANG OF HOME. 213 
 
 carriage coming. If you let her pair of bays 
 catch you, I'll sell you for dog's meat and drive 
 a donkey. Git away, old girl ! " 
 
 In the meantime Gwen was being discussed 
 in the carriage behind. ' ' How did you like 
 the prima donna ? " asked Lady Wincanton to 
 Miss Fortesque. 
 
 " Oh, she was very good, but I think I liked 
 the young lady who sang ' ' Home sweet home " 
 better. What do you say, Harold ? " 
 
 ' I certainly agree with you," he said. " I 
 never heard that old song rendered with so much 
 feeling or with better effect. Miss Wentworth 
 has a remarkable voice." 
 
 ' ' I thought she was very stilted and affected," 
 answered his mother, who did not like this un- 
 stinted praise of Gwen. 
 
 * ' I do not think so," rejoined her son. ' ' She 
 seemed to me to be the embodiment of rustic 
 simplicity. And the audience certainly did 
 not share your feeling, mother." 
 
 " Oh, there is a good deal to be put down 
 to local sympathy. She is altogether too self- 
 conscious ever to be a great singer. But certainly 
 for an untutored country girl she did very well. 
 I think I will invite her to sing at my home party 
 next week." 
 
 " You couldn't do better, mother," replied 
 Harold so eagerly, that at once his mother 
 regretted having made the suggestion, which 
 she determined she would not carry out. 
 
 That night Gwen dreamt of being a prima 
 donna herself, and winning great conquests, but 
 all through her dreams the beautiful face of 
 Evelyn Fortesque seemed to haunt her.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 LADY WINCANTON'S PARTY. 
 
 " Dearly bought the hidden treasure 
 
 Finer feelings can bestow ! 
 Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure 
 Thrill the deepest notes of woe." 
 
 BURNS. 
 
 " WHAT a magnificent voice. Who is she ? " 
 
 The questioner, Lady Cecilia Gordon, bent 
 eagerly forward as she put this question to Lady 
 Wincanton. 
 
 " Oh, she is a discovery of mine. A rustic 
 prima donna," was the reply. " She certainly 
 sings very well considering her opportunity." 
 
 " She sings divinely," replied the other en- 
 thusiastically. ' ( I never heard so fine a render- 
 ing of that old song. You must introduce me.'* 
 
 The large old-fashioned drawing-room of 
 Stourbridge Hall was filled with the elite of the 
 county, and a few London notables, who had 
 been induced to spend a week or two in the old 
 country hall, formed part of Lady Wincanton's 
 house party. Viscount Henderson, a bankrupt 
 and dyspeptic, who was credited with designs 
 upon the heart and fortunes of his hostess ; 
 Lord Wolvers, a rising young Conservative, who 
 some day it was expected would be in the 
 Cabinet, and who owed his position to a fortune 
 made by his father out of beer, and to an in- 
 heritance of brains from his mother ; Mr. Crow-
 
 LADY WINCANTON'S PARTY. 215 
 
 thers, a minor poet, who wrote pathetic little 
 poems about childhood and heaven (and punc- 
 tuated his ordinary conversation with oaths) ; 
 and Mr. Graham, a Scotch lawyer and historian, 
 who was a candidate, three times defeated, for 
 Parliamentary honours for a border constituency. 
 
 These, with Lord Fortesque and his daughter, 
 were amongst the most notable guests present. 
 Everyone of them had been invited down with 
 some particular reference to Harold's future. 
 Viscount Henderson, because he was supposed 
 to have influence with the Prime Minister, Lord 
 Wolvers, as a kind of imposing example ; Mr. 
 Crowthers because it was the fashion to patronise 
 him just then ; and Mr. Graham for no other 
 reason than that Lady Wincanton wished him 
 to give Harold some hints upon how to obtain 
 a constituency. 
 
 It was late in the evening when Gwen, who 
 had been sitting unnoticed by everyone save 
 Mrs. Stewart, a plain motherly lady, who owed 
 her invitation to the fact that her husband was 
 the chairman of the County Conservative Associa- 
 tion, and who had taken pity on the beautiful 
 young girl because she seemed to be so lonely. 
 
 Truth to tell, Gwen was not happy in her new 
 surroundings, and wished a hundred times she 
 had not consented to sing. Lady Wincanton 
 had received her with studied coldness ; so 
 marked, indeed, that a few angry words had 
 passed between Harold and his mother on the 
 subject immediately afterwards. He had tried 
 to make up by attentions which were so notice- 
 able that they made her feel uncomfortable, 
 and led her to resent them. Many times she
 
 216 ROSES AND THISTLES- 
 
 wished herself at home, but Mrs. Stewart, with 
 great tact and good breeding, drew out the 
 nervous, sensitive girl until, to her own surprise, 
 she found herself laughing, and making a con- 
 fident of the lady, whose motherly face and white 
 hair won her heart. 
 
 " My dear," she said, " you must come and 
 see us at Hirsthome. I am not musical myself, 
 but we often have musicians down, for my 
 husband, Colonel Stewart, is very fond of music 
 and poetry, and it may be of service to you to 
 meet some of his friends." 
 
 " Oh, thank you, I should so dearly like to 
 visit you." 
 
 " Well, then, we will regard it as settled," 
 said Mrs. Stewart. 
 
 When Harold came to take her to the piano 
 to sing, she blushed violently, but when her rich, 
 clear voice rang through the room, in the old- 
 fashioned song " She wore a wreath of roses," 
 the talking ceased, and all eyes were fixed on 
 the singer. Dressed in simple fashion, with a 
 beautiful moss rose relieving the whiteness of 
 her dress, she stood and poured forth her soul 
 in song. 
 
 "Gad," said the old Viscount, "a pretty 
 girl a charming singer. Encore ! Encore ! " 
 
 The applause that followed the ending of her 
 song was quite temptestuous for such an audi- 
 ence. Without affectation or pressure she sang 
 again. This time selecting Tosti's ' ' Good-bye," 
 which was also well received. 
 
 The face of Harold Wincanton fairly beamed. 
 He felt her triumph was his own. He led her 
 to a seat, and sat by her side, while his mother
 
 LADY WINCANTON'S PARTY. 217 
 
 jealously watched them from the other side of 
 the room. 
 
 " You have excelled yourself to-night," he 
 whispered. ' ' We are all greatly obliged to 
 you." 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
 " Miss Wentworth allow me to introduce you 
 to Mr. Carver." It was Lady Wincanton who 
 spoke. " Harold dear, do you mind showing 
 Lord Fortesque to the library. He wishes to 
 write some important letters." 
 
 Harold did mind, and pulled a very wry face, 
 but there was nothing for it but to obey. His 
 mother took care that he did not get another 
 opportunity for conversation with Gwen, and 
 Mr Carver kept by her side the greater part of 
 the time. 
 
 The night might be described as a decided 
 triumph for Gwen. She was called upon again, 
 and again, to sing, until she was really weary, 
 and begged leave to retire. 
 
 * ' Thank you so much, Miss Wentworth," 
 said Lady Wincanton. " You must come again 
 to see me soon. I have ordered James to drive 
 you home." 
 
 ' * Oh, I could walk quite easily," replied Gwen. 
 * ' Indeed, I would prefer it. I am quite accus- 
 tomed to walking." 
 
 ' ' No, I could not think of allowing it," replied 
 Lady Wincanton. "The night is chilly, and 
 you must take care of your voice. It really is 
 exceptional. My foolish boy has quite fallen 
 in love with it ; but, then, he is always falling 
 in love with something or other. I tell him his 
 affections are always too absorbing to last. He
 
 218 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 is like the butterfly sipping the honey from 
 many flowers, and constant to none." 
 
 " Perhaps that is an inherited tendency,'* 
 Gwen could not help but reply, for she felt 
 Lady Wincanton's words were intended to 
 convey more than they expressed. 
 
 " Indeed no," was the reply, " if there is one 
 thing our family is noted for, it is constancy of 
 purpose. But once more, good night." 
 
 Gwen rolled herself up in one corner of the 
 luxurious carriage, and busied herself with musing 
 over the events of the evening. For the first 
 time she had awakened to the full consciousness 
 of her powers as a singer. The Divine gift 
 within her had been stirred, and she was longing 
 for larger opportunities and greater triumphs. 
 
 She had tasted the sweets of praise of an 
 educated and critical audience, who had been 
 won from indifference to interest, and then from 
 interest to genuine admiration. 
 
 But the night destined to be fateful for her in 
 more senses than one. From that time Harold 
 Wincanton's infatuation for her increased, and it 
 was only his mother's influence over him which 
 kept him from making an open declaration of 
 love. 
 
 In a few weeks Gwen received a kind note from 
 Mrs. Stewart, formally inviting her to Hirst- 
 home. She always looked back on the week 
 she spent there as the happiest in her life. Mr. 
 Stewart was a fine, gentlemanly old man, who, 
 having made a fortune as a cotton importer, had 
 taken to politics as a pastime. He described 
 himself as a Liberal-Conservative, and often 
 experienced the great difficulty and danger of a
 
 LADY WINCANTON'S PARTY. 219 
 
 man who tries to sit on two stools at once. The 
 strong party men on both sides distrusted and 
 denounced him as a time server, and an Oppor- 
 tunist. But his magnetic personality, his ex- 
 ceptional gift as a public speaker, and his wealth 
 kept him at the head of the party organisation. 
 For the rest, he was a kindly man, a generous 
 host, and a clever musician. 
 
 il Delighted to see you, my dear," he said to 
 Gwen. " My wife has fallen in love with you. 
 And she declares your singing is better than 
 Madame Gavun who paid us a visit last week. ' 
 
 " I am afraid Mrs. Stewart has formed 
 altogether too flattering an estimate of my 
 ability," replied Gwen. " I have had very little 
 training indeed." 
 
 " So much the better as average training goes. 
 You have less to unlearn." 
 
 The week sped all too quickly, and the in- 
 vitation was extended to another, and would 
 gladly have been accepted but for some engage- 
 ments which called her home. On the last day 
 of her stay she was surprised to receive a visit 
 from Harold Wincanton. He and his mother 
 had quarrelled over Miss Fortesque, and in high 
 dudgeon he had hasted off to offer marriage to 
 Gwen forthwith. For the first time she got a 
 glimpse into his real character, when she refused 
 to be a party to a runaway match. He coaxed, 
 then stormed, and finally threatened, until in 
 sheer fright she declared she would call in Mrs. 
 Stewart. 
 
 Truth to tell, he had expected a ready accept- 
 ance by this humble village maiden without a 
 name of her own of his offer, to go to London
 
 220 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 straight away and be married ; and that he had 
 only to ask in order to have. But the religious 
 training of years was behind the timid, but firm, 
 negative with which Gwen met his request ; 
 and he found it impossible to move her from her 
 decision. Flinging himself out of the house, in 
 a perfect fury, he left her in tears. Mrs. Stewart, 
 directly Harold had gone, made her way to the 
 drawing-room, and finding her prostrate, bit 
 by bit, got the whole story from her. 
 
 " My dear," she said, " you have had a 
 narrow escape. My husband who never speaks 
 ill of any unless it is absolutely necessary has 
 been quietly making some investigations res- 
 pecting young Wincanton, for the reason that 
 his mother, when we were at Stourbridge Hall, 
 desired Mr. Stewart's interest to get him adopted 
 as the candidate for the division at the annual 
 meeting of the Conservative party next month. 
 Before pledging himself to this, he felt it wisest 
 to make some inquiries, and the result is that 
 he has written frankly to Lady Wincanton to 
 say he cannot do so. The details are not fit 
 for a young maiden's ears, but my husband used 
 stronger terms about him than I have ever heard 
 him use about any man since we have been 
 married, and he declares that if his candidature 
 is pushed he shall withdraw from the party, 
 sooner than countenance it. My dear, take an 
 old woman's advice, and have nothing to say 
 to him. He is a bad son. I gather that from 
 Lady Wincanton herself, and a bad son never 
 makes a good husband. Now dry your tears, 
 and come and have a cup of tea." 
 
 When she returned home, and had time to
 
 LADY WINCANTON'S PARTY. 221 
 
 think over matters and to probe her own heart, 
 she, too, came to the conclusion that Harold 
 Wincanton did not possess the qualities she would 
 most desire in a husband constancy, honesty 
 of purpose, the courage of high conviction, and 
 that manliness that puts the crown on all other 
 qualities. She saw how nearly she had been 
 carried away by a superficial charm of manner 
 and the glamour of social position, and she 
 resolved that, henceforth, she would be more 
 careful in her conduct, and guard diligently 
 against being enticed into an equivocal situation. 
 She threw herself heart and soul into her pro- 
 fession, and realised a great uplifting of soul in 
 the surrender of self to a great passion. As for 
 Harold, he returned home after a fortnight's 
 dissipation in London, leaving behind him debts 
 that taxed his mother's resources for six months 
 to pay. He was soon frequenting the old paths, 
 where he had often met Gwen in the past, but 
 she seemed to have deserted all her old haunts, 
 and when he ventured to call at the Rosary, 
 thrice in a few days, he failed to get a glimpse 
 of her.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 THE RETURN OF A WANDERER. 
 
 " But poverty, with most who whimper forth, 
 Their long complaints, is self-inflicted woe, 
 Th' effect of laziness, or sottish waste." 
 
 COWPER. 
 
 A POOR, pitiful object came shambling along 
 the street from the direction of the railway 
 station. Even in a village where a sack often 
 covered the shoulders of a labourer instead of 
 a coat, the outward covering of the stranger 
 excited pity, and remark, from those who saw 
 him. John Crun, for example, boasted that his 
 best hat saw the light in the year of Waterloo, 
 and having since served him for half a century, 
 was still a good, presentable article, except in 
 one place, where a voracious moth had eaten 
 away the nap, and left it bare ; but Martha, 
 his wife, had carefully pulled the nap off where 
 it was plentiful, and stuck it on with gum where 
 it was needed, giving him strict injunctions not 
 to wear it in wet weather. Timothy Brunyard 
 had walked two miles between his cottage 
 and the Methodist chapel every Sunday for thirty 
 years in the same boots, always entering just 
 when the church clock struck the hour, for if 
 by chance Tim came a few minutes early he 
 spent them in leaning over the wall of the mill 
 pond, looking at the water lilies when there were
 
 THE RETURN OF A WANDERER. 223 
 
 any, and at the pond itself when there were 
 none. To be early would be like officiousness 
 in the sight of heaven, and to be late was not 
 respectful. 
 
 There was something so distressful in the 
 man's appearance, that it immediately arrested 
 attention. His broad-brimmed hat was thrust 
 down over his brow as if he would hide his 
 features as much as possible. His coat, wrinkled 
 and brown, hung loosely on him, and the bottom 
 of his trouser legs were worn into ribbons ; 
 and fell over a pair of boots whose soles seemed 
 anxious to bid good-bye to the uppers. He saw 
 nobody until he arrived opposite the rose garden 
 of Rufus, where he stood for a moment as though 
 the sight arrested him. But, at least, half a 
 dozen women and twice as many children had 
 seen him from behind window blinds and doors. 
 
 Rufus was busy binding young rose trees to 
 their staves when he suddenly became aware 
 of the figure standing looking at him, and his left 
 hand involuntarily sought his pocket for a coin, 
 while his right nipped off a rose bud, which he 
 intended to give along with his offering. 
 There are degrees in poverty, this was the 
 superlative degree, and it touched the old man's 
 heart. The tramp stood blinking his eyes until 
 Rufus reached the wall, and then exclaimed, 
 ' ' Well, Mr. Wentworth, you bin still alive 
 then ? " 
 
 ' ' Why, Jack ! " exclaimed Rufus, after 
 gazing for a moment at the object before him, 
 " Is that you ?" 
 
 * ' Ay, it's me, at least all that's left of me, 
 which binna much except skin and bone."
 
 224 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 16 You dunno seem to have been in a very fat 
 pasture," said Rufus. 
 
 " No," replied Jack, " you wouldna think 
 that I have dined with Lord Mayors and Mem- 
 bers of Parliament, would you ? I have though, 
 but that was when the sun shone on my side of 
 the hedge. There's one thing a man may 
 reckon on in this world, and that's that he'll 
 have abundance of friends while he has plenty of 
 money, but when that's gone, they'll go as 
 well." 
 
 " True," replied Rufus. " Had any break- 
 fast, Jack ? " 
 
 " Well," replied Jack, " I could pick a bone 
 wi'oot bursting. The day before yesterday I 
 had hot coffee and a penny bun." 
 
 " Poor chap," said Rufus. " Come in and 
 see our missus. I guess there's ham and eggs 
 if nothin' else, or may be a soft place or two on 
 the leg of mutton we had yesterday." 
 
 " And so you thought you'd come back and 
 see the old place once more," said Rufus, as he 
 opened the gate for him to enter. 
 
 " Ay," he replied. " I kind o' hankered 
 to see the village once more, and some of the 
 old faces. Is Benson still going to church 
 and cheating the public, or has old Nick got 
 him ? " 
 
 ' ' Hush, Jack ! You should'na speak that 
 way. He's dead this ten years. It is not for 
 us to judge the dead." 
 
 " If ever there was a double-faced hypocrite 
 he was one," said Jack, the remembrance of a 
 thousand little injustices rankling in his soul. 
 " I'd say it with my last breath. I could tell
 
 THE RETURN OF A WANDERER. 225 
 
 you stories ; but faugh ! his name tastes like 
 bilge water ; but Mary is she " 
 
 " Still here, Jack, and living in Madox's 
 cottage at the end of the village." 
 
 * ' Married ? " asked Jack, looking up with an 
 eagerness that fairly amazed Rufus. 
 
 ' Nay, Jack. She gave her heart to one man 
 many years ago, and she's never wavered. I 
 wish I could think he had been as true to her." 
 
 The tears welled up in the poor fellow's eyes, 
 as he swept his sleeves across his face, and 
 muttered, " Bless her." 
 
 " I'm sorry," Rufus continued, " that you've 
 done badly for her sake. If she saw you in your 
 present guise I think it would break her heart. 
 We must try and rig you out with something 
 more decent before you go to see her ; that 
 is if you mean to see her." 
 
 ' ' Well, Mr. Wentworth, I'll not deny it. 
 For years I've thought of the time when I should 
 see her once more, and it was like a star shining 
 on a dark night ; and I've come all the way 
 from London now, and I must see her before I 
 go back." 
 
 " Well, come in. Here Missus, here is an old 
 friend in need of some breakfast. You remem- 
 ber Jack Crookworth who used to be at Benson's. 
 Well, this is Jack. Like the prodigal, he's a 
 bit down on his luck, and in the far country 
 they dunno ' grow apple dumplings on goose- 
 berry bushes, or tweed suits on hickory trees, 
 and so he's suffered some. Get the frying pan 
 and give him a slice round the ham and three 
 eggs, and then he'll be about ready for his 
 breakfast, and you can say ditto to the first
 
 226 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 round, and a slice or two of buttered toast will 
 finish him off, and make him feel as though he 
 wasn't all outside like an empty walnut." 
 
 Mrs. Wentworth, after greeting Jack, went to 
 work, and soon he was sitting down to a cup of 
 steaming coffee, and a plate ladened with ham 
 and eggs was placed before him, He set to work 
 with right good will, and did ample justice to 
 the cooking, Rufus sitting by and superintending 
 supplies. 
 
 " Feel better ? " he asked, when Jack 
 positively refused to take another bite. " I 
 never knew a man but what felt his chances of 
 getting to heaven increased when his stomach 
 was full. Now, missus, can you find Jack an 
 old suit of mine ? Seems to me, with a few 
 tucks, we can fit him out." 
 
 But Jack manifested a strange reluctance to 
 part with his rags, and although Mrs. Wentworth 
 found a really decent suit of pepper and salt, he 
 resolutely refused to change, offering one excuse 
 after another. He sat by the fire in a kind of 
 a doze for some time, and then Rufus said, 
 " And what's your programme now, Jack ? " 
 
 ' * I'm going round to look at the old place and 
 see a few of the old cronies, and I want to go 
 to the church and see my mother's grave ; 
 and after that I shall try and get a peep at 
 Mary, and then well, it all depends. Most 
 likely I shall go away and never come back 
 any more." 
 
 "Well," said Rufus, "we will talk about 
 that after, but if you want supper, bed, and 
 breakfast, come back, lad. We have no bed 
 at liberty, but there's the sofey. The missus
 
 THE RETURN OF A WANDERER. 227 
 
 makes me lie down on it every day after dinner, 
 and I generally manage forty winks, just to 
 oblige her." 
 
 Mrs. Wentworth was nudging his elbow all 
 the time he was speaking, and, when Jack was 
 not looking, gave Rufus a look which plainly in- 
 timated she did not join in the invitation. To 
 give a starving man a meal was one thing, but to 
 let him sleep in the house all night was another. 
 Nobody could tell what he might steal, or what 
 harm he might attempt to do. But Rufus never 
 did things by halves, and so he took no notice, 
 and pressed his invitation on the wanderer. 
 
 " It's very good of you, Mr. Wentworth," 
 said Jack, his voice trembling. " There have 
 been times when I have been in rough company, 
 and I have heard religion derided, and good men 
 laughed at. I should have laughed myself like 
 the rest of them, but that I remembered you 
 and Johnson, and Dickens, and Davies, and a 
 few others. The missus need not be afraid 
 that I shall trouble you, but I'm obliged to you 
 all the same. I should like a word with you in 
 private if you could spare the time." 
 
 " Come into the garden," said Rufus. 
 "|There's room enough, and something pretty 
 to look at, and sweet to smell ; and though 
 we read the sarpent first found Adam in a 
 garden, it's my opinion that he's oftener found 
 in the house among the furniture than in the 
 garden among the trees and flowers. 
 
 Mrs. Wentworth watched the two walking up 
 and down, their heads bent together, and she 
 wondered what the tramp could have to say, 
 which was of so much interest to her husband.
 
 228 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Once or twice she heard Rufus laugh one 
 of his hearty laughs, and, by and by, she saw 
 Jack hobbling down the street, his rags fluttering 
 in the wind, his hat pressed over his eyes, and 
 a rosebud between his fingers. 
 
 Rufus went and leaned over the wall, and 
 watched him for a time, and then came back 
 again into the house, and she heard him chuck- 
 ling at a fine rate. 
 
 " What is the matter, Rufe ? " she asked, 
 surprised at his hilarity. 
 
 "Ha! Ha!" exploded her husband. "I 
 felt as though I'd had my feet tickled with a 
 feather. Ha! Ha!" 
 
 " Don't be rude. Tell me, what's the 
 matter ? " 
 
 " Promise to keep a secret if I tell you," he 
 queried. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Honour bright. Sure as pippins make good 
 apple jelly." 
 
 " Yes, I promise." 
 
 " Then Jack is goin' to propose to Mary 
 Benson." 
 
 " What ! exclaimed Mrs. Wentworth, " and 
 you think that is a matter for laughter. Rufus, 
 I'm downright ashamed of you." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " laughed Rufus. " I'm sorry, 
 my dear ; but it's a bit funny. Kind o' tickles 
 me under the fifth rib." 
 
 ' ' I say it's a burning shame. Poor Mary ! 
 After all these years for him to come and offer 
 marriage to her is an insult. If I had known 
 that was his errand he should have had neither 
 bite nor sup."
 
 THE RETURN OF A WANDERER. 229 
 
 "Poor fellow," said Rufus. ''He was a 
 pitiful object. Seemed to have plenty of storage 
 for ham and eggs. But he couldn't complain 
 about ventilation in his clothes." 
 
 "Yes, he would like to go and sponge on 
 that poor woman, and live on her earnings. 
 That's what he is after," said Mrs. Wentworth. 
 
 ' He wanted me to go and speak for him," 
 said Rufus, and he grew red in the face as if he 
 would explode again. 
 
 ' ' Humph ! I'm glad that at least you had 
 sense enough to refrain from that. I'm going 
 straight along to warn Mary against having 
 anything to do with him." 
 
 " But you promised you wouldn't split," 
 said Rufus. " Honour bright now." 
 
 " Such a promise ought not to have been 
 extracted from me. I'm ashamed of you, Rufus 
 Wentworth." 
 
 " That's the third time, you've said it, my 
 dear, so any more would be a waste of breath, 
 and I'll try to think what it means. But here 
 comes Gwen, bright as the morning, fresh as 
 the daisy." 
 
 ' ' Oh, dad, I met with such a queer looking 
 man down in the village, and he was a tramp," 
 exclaimed Gwen, coming, in, radiant with the 
 exercise she had been taking. 
 
 " He's been here to breakfast, dear," said 
 Mrs. Wentworth, " so you need not tax your 
 powers of description. Your father has a taste 
 for low characters." 
 
 ' ' So had Jesus Christ," replied Rufus. ' ' But 
 what was he doing, Gwen ? " 
 
 " Oh, he had gone into Harris' shop, and
 
 230 ROSES AND THISTLES 
 
 Mrs. Harris ordered him out, and^then the boys 
 began to pelt him with mud and stones." 
 
 " Shame on 'em," exclaimed Rufus. " To 
 pelt a stranger. It was his clothes they pelted. 
 But I must go and see to it." 
 
 11 He took refuge in Widow Harrison's," said 
 Gwen, " and she shut the door, so he is all 
 right now." 
 
 The conversation in the ' ' Lion " that night 
 revolved round the return of Jack Crookworth, 
 whom many remembered as a bright, frolicsome 
 youth in the employ of Benson. He had gone 
 to the door and made himself known to Alport 
 the landlord, and requested permission to sleep 
 in the outhouse that night. 
 
 This had been refused, and when he asked if 
 he might come and sit down, Alport had not only 
 refused, but threatened to set the dogs on him 
 if he found him hanging about. He then trudged 
 down to Harris' in the hope of seeing the old man ; 
 but he was in bed with a cold, and the two young 
 men in the shop had made game of him, and 
 when he resented it had turned him into the 
 street. He had been driven for refuge into the 
 cottage of Widow Harrison ; who, when she 
 knew who he was, wept over him, and made him 
 promise to come back to tea, although she 
 hadn't in the house more than half a loaf of 
 bread and a bit of cheese. 
 
 " You're as welcome as the flowers in May," 
 she said, as she put three parts of the cheese on 
 his plate. I nursed your mother when you were 
 born, and I've spanked you many a time, lad, 
 though I dunno think it did you much good. 
 But I'm glad to see you, and I wish I'd better
 
 THE RETURN OF A WANDERER. 231 
 
 to put before you." That was the only gleam of 
 brightness the poor fellow met with, for old 
 friends had no desire to renew an acquaintance 
 which promised only to tax their pockets and 
 cupboards, and to most of the villagers Jack 
 was only a name. 
 
 Just as the day was dying, a whitehaired 
 woman, who was sitting looking into the fire, 
 and thinking of what might have been, was 
 brought back to the hard, crude realities of actual 
 life by a quick rat-tat-tat on the door. Strange, 
 it made her heart beat faster, for it was the kind 
 of knock, quick and impetuous, that long ago 
 an apprentice of her father's always used when 
 he brought the letters in the morning, and the 
 memory of it lingered with her after many 
 years. 
 
 She went to the door, and saw a beggar 
 standing without, who said in a piteous whine, 
 " Please, will you give me a crust of bread ? " 
 
 She was accustomed to such appeals, for 
 many called, and none went away empty- 
 handed. And straightway she went to the 
 pantry, and finding there a half loaf and a piece 
 of cheese, she brought it out to give to the 
 mendicant. 
 
 She was startled to find that during her ab- 
 sence her visitor had stepped inside the cottage, 
 and was sitting warming his hands at the fire. 
 He mumbled something about being starved. 
 Her alarm increased when, thrusting the bread 
 and cheese into his hands, he proceeded to pull 
 out a large knife, and open the blade, which 
 was four or five inches long, and looked very 
 formidable as the light of the fire fell on it.
 
 232 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Determined, however, not to show the alarm 
 which was fast overcoming her, she reached the 
 lamp, and was taking a match to light it when 
 in a gruff voice the stranger bade her not to 
 mind the light, but be seated. Trembling in 
 every limb she dropped the light to the floor. 
 It was useless to cry out, and she realised the 
 best thing was to obey. There was always hope 
 that some of the villagers might call, or she 
 might hear some one passing. So she sat on the 
 opposite side of the tramp, who putting his hat 
 further over his eyes, commenced munching 
 his bread and cheese. There was silence for 
 a few seconds, during which she was listening 
 intently in the hope of hearing footsteps. If she 
 could only get past him to the door, she would 
 make a rush for it. 
 
 At length he spoke again, this time asking 
 for a drink. 
 
 She again went into the pantry, and brought 
 him a cup of milk. Her hand trembled so much 
 that she could hardly hold it, and spilt some on 
 the hearthrug. For the first time he looked up, 
 and seeing that she was greatly agitated said 
 gruffly, " Don't be frightened, missus, I mean 
 you no harm. I only want a rest and a warm.' 
 Somewhat reassured, she again took her seat, 
 when the stranger looked at her a second time, 
 and said, " Your name is Benson isn't it ? " 
 
 " Yes," she replied. 
 
 " So they told me in the village," he replied. 
 " Any relation to Enoch Benson, who thirty 
 years ago was a builder hereaway ? " 
 IV His daughter," she answered, ' ' but he's 
 dead for fourteen years. Did you know him ? "
 
 THE RETURN OF A WANDERER. 233 
 
 " I once met an apprentice of his that ran 
 away. Stole some of his master's money, or 
 something, I understood. The lad's name was 
 Crookworth, and he was a bad lot." 
 
 " Excuse me," said Mary, " he was nothing 
 of the kind. He was as honest as the day." 
 
 " Then why did he run away ? " asked the 
 tramp. 
 
 4 ' For nothing, he had any need to be ashamed 
 of. When, and where, did you see him ? " 
 
 She leaned eagerly forward, and just then the 
 fire blazed up, and either by accident or design 
 the broad brimmed hat fell off. Then she gave 
 a cry " Jack." 
 
 " Ay, Mary," he said, " I've come back at 
 last. It has been a long time, and now I'm here 
 I'm not sure I shall be welcome. I'm not a very 
 presentable looking object, and I've not a penny 
 in my pocket. I've received so far, a very poor 
 reception from everybody but Mr. Wentworth 
 and old Widow Harrison. If I had come back 
 with my pockets full of gold, my old cronies 
 would have clustered about me like wasps round 
 a treacle pot ; but because I've come in rags, 
 and seeking a crust and a night's lodging, they 
 have set their dogs on me, and laughed at me 
 when the lads pelted me with mud." 
 
 ' ' Shame ! " said Mary, her eyes filling with 
 tears. " Oh, Jack, why have you been so long 
 in coming ? " 
 
 ' ' Because I was not sure what had become of 
 you," he replied. 
 
 But why did you not write as you promised ? 
 
 Write!" he exclaimed. "Did I not
 
 234 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 write ? Not once, but a dozen times, and never 
 got any answer." 
 
 " I did not get your letters," she replied. 
 " Not one ever came to me. To whom did you 
 address them ? " 
 
 " To you. Care of the post-mistress, old Mrs. 
 Allen, as we agreed." 
 
 ' ' And I went again and again, and she declared 
 she had never received any." 
 
 " I wrote at intervals for more than two 
 years. Your father must have bribed her not 
 to hand them over to you. And the only reply 
 I ever got was that short, curt reply of yours 
 that you wished all connection with me to 
 
 cease." 
 
 " From me, Jack ? I never wrote any such 
 letter." 
 
 The man bent forward towards the fire and 
 gazed for some minutes without speaking. 
 Then he said, " Is the old woman living ? " 
 
 " No, she died two years ago." 
 
 " Ah," he said, " I am always too late. 
 My God, if I had but known. I might have 
 been spared years of suffering," and he fairly 
 broke down. 
 
 The next moment the woman's arms were 
 round his neck, and her kiss touched his cheek. 
 The pent up love found expression, as, again 
 and again, she kissed him. She did not see the 
 rags, the dishevelled beard, the worn out shoes, 
 but the man whom she had enshrined in her 
 heart for years. She had often pictured his 
 coming back, but always as a prosperous and 
 happy man ; but now he had returned broken 
 in fortune, dressed in rags, it made no difference
 
 THE RETURN OF A WANDERER. 235 
 
 to her, save that her love was touched with a 
 pity which hallowed it. 
 
 It was Jack who first awakened apparently 
 to the realities of the situation. ' * Mary," he 
 said, ' ' I came back to see if you were still alive. 
 My heart hungered for a sight of you. And 
 now I have seen you I suppose I must go on the 
 tramp again ; but I shall die happier because 
 of one brief moment I have held you in my 
 arms." 
 
 * ' Go away ! " she exclaimed. ' ' What for 
 Jack ? ' 
 
 " Because," and he stopped, looked at his 
 clothes and lifted up his coat. 
 
 " Nonsense," she said. " If you are poor, 
 all the more need why I should succour you. 
 If you are sick, why should I not nurse you ? 
 If you are friendless, why should I not be your 
 friend ? I have enough to keep us in comfort, 
 though not in luxury. No, no, Jack, don't talk 
 of going away again." 
 
 " And what do you think the villagers would 
 say if you took in such a poor miserable-looking 
 wretch as I am ? " 
 
 " Jack," she answered " if you had prospered 
 and come back to find me starving, perhaps in 
 the workhouse, what would you have done ? " 
 
 " Before God," he said, " I would have 
 married you, if you would have had me. It 
 was my dream for years to come back and say, 
 ' Here, Mary, I kept to my promise, and I come 
 to claim you as mine. But when that letter 
 came I lost hope, and for a time I did not care 
 what became of me." 
 
 " Jack," she said, " I want to make amends
 
 236 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 for the injustice my father did you. Here is 
 my purse. Get yourself some decent clothes 
 first of all, and then we will talk about the 
 future." 
 
 ' ' For God's sake Mary," he cried, * ' stop ! " 
 and he broke down like a child. 
 
 Next morning Mary sought an interview with 
 the vicar, and greatly surprised him by asking 
 him to publish the banns next Sunday between 
 Jack Crookworth and herself. As a comparative 
 stranger of course, he did not know her history ; 
 but he had heard hints which led him to remon- 
 strate in his gentle way with her. But he could 
 see it only pained her, so he let it go. 
 
 Soon the news was all over the countryside 
 that Mary Benson was going to marry that ne'er 
 do well, Jack Crookworth, and already the 
 gossips of the village saddled him with drunken- 
 ness, gambling, and other vices, none the less 
 certainly because they knew nothing positively, 
 judging only from appearances. 
 
 As for Jack, he disappeared as he came, none 
 knew where he went. All agreed in calling 
 Mary a fool, and quite a number of women felt 
 it incumbent upon them to go and remonstrate 
 with her. She listened to all they had to say 
 in silence, smiled, and woman-like went her own 
 way. 
 
 " She will rue it by every hair of her head," 
 said Mrs. Wentworth to Rufus. " He's nothing 
 but a common cadger, and will spend all she 
 has ; and then she may go to the poorhouse. 
 She is old enough to know better. For aught 
 she can tell he's been in jail a score of times. 
 And his hands and face were filthy dirty."
 
 THE RETURN OF A WANDERER. 237 
 
 1 He didn't look as though he used many 
 tooth powders," Rufus replied, " or spent much 
 in scents or gold studs. Those shoes of his 
 hadn't been blacked for a week of months ; 
 and his hair looked as though it had not been 
 in curl papers lately. And yet I recollect he 
 was a smart lad, as sharp as a Sheffield razor. 
 I remember him climbing the church steeple to 
 get an owl's nest. Any other boy would have 
 broken his neck, for there was only a bit of ivy 
 to cling to, but he came through all right." 
 
 " He's an impudent fellow," said his wife. 
 " However Mary could consent to marry him 
 surpasses my comprehension." 
 
 " Ay," said Rufus, " Mary is marrying not 
 the man you saw, but the one she has had 
 in her heart for years. Love is a wonderful 
 thing. Sometimes it has eyes sharp as eagles, 
 and sometimes it can see no better than a mole. 
 The Apostle says, ' It believeth all things as 
 well as beareth all things.' ' 
 
 At this point Rufus had one of- the attacks of 
 hilarity which had seized him lately at odd 
 moments, and he laughed till he chinked again. 
 
 " Rufus," said his wife. " You are hiding 
 something. You know more than you say." 
 
 " My dear," he said, " you are sharper than 
 a hornet's sting. It binna fair on a poor, slow- 
 witted fellow like me to have a wife with eyes 
 like these X-rays I've heard tell on. You just 
 clap them on a man's back and you see all 
 that's goin' on inside. I shall be afraid to do any 
 thinkin' just now outside the greenhouse. It's 
 kind o' awful to live in the same house with the 
 Judgment Day in petticoats."
 
 238 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " Don't be ridiculous," she replied. " One 
 does not need average perspicuity to read you, 
 my man. You cannot deceive me." 
 
 " No, Fm like a book in big print with illus- 
 trations," grinned Rufus. ' ' But those who live 
 longest will see most. I tell you something's 
 going to happen in the village as will make the 
 women's tongues wag like church bells when the 
 ringers are tipsy, and it won't be forgotten for 
 the next forty years." 
 
 " What is it ? " asked his wife. 
 
 * ' Ask me three weeks from to-day," answered 
 Rufus.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 FOR RICHER, FOR POORER. 
 
 " What do you think of marriage ? 
 I take 't as those that deny purgatory, 
 It locally contains our heaven or hell, 
 There's no third place in it." WEBSTER. 
 
 SUMMERTON was in the throes of a double 
 sensation. The placid monotony of its life was 
 disturbed. The Manor House, a fine, old Eliza- 
 bethan building, standing on the top of the hill 
 near the church, had, after being vacant for 
 three years, suddenly found a tenant and an 
 owner. A London magnate had purchased it, 
 and orders had come to have it prepared for his 
 coming with all expedition. Prichard, the 
 builder, Benson's successor, had thoroughly to 
 overhaul it, and put it in habitable condition 
 in a fortnight. A youthful looking man had 
 appeared in the village to superintend the 
 necessary alterations and additions. He, while 
 pleasant and affable, was a veritable hustler, 
 and fairly took Prichard's breath away. He 
 would hear no excuses, nor listen to any apologies 
 for delay. " It must be done," he said, when 
 Prichard expressed the hopelessness of com- 
 pleting a month's work in a fortnight. It was 
 the same with James the painter, and Matthews 
 the plasterer. They were not accustomed to 
 hurry, but Mr. Carter cajoled and threatened,
 
 240 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 until the whole village was in a state of agitated 
 nerves. 
 
 11 Must be ready by Sir John comes," was his 
 answer for all appeals for more time, " and he 
 will be here on the 25th. " We must have 
 everything in ship-shape, or somebody will 
 know about it. You must wake your fellows 
 up. They go about it as if they were wait- 
 ing for the day after to-morrow to overtake 
 them." 
 
 As to who Sir John was nobody knew, and 
 questions, oblique and direct, failed alike to 
 elicit the information. 
 
 Mr. Carter knew how to hold his peace, and 
 steadfastly refused to gratify curiosity on the 
 point of details regarding his principal. But 
 he had ever the name of Sir John on his lips. 
 " Sir John would not like this," or, " would 
 have the other," until, in the imagination of 
 the villagers, Sir John became the very embodi- 
 ment of indignant energy. 
 
 Rufus had been approached by Mr. Carter, 
 and urgently requested to lay out the gardens 
 in the front of the Hall, and, to the surprise 
 of the villagers, he consented ; but Mr. Carter 
 seemed to be able to bend everybody to his 
 wishes, and very soon the old Hall began to put 
 on a very different appearance to the dilapidated 
 and neglected one it had worn for many a day. 
 
 " Must have a hat-ful of money," said Joe 
 Wentworth, as he stood with Mr. Carter watching 
 Rufus laying out the beds with great care and 
 skill. 
 
 " Yes, and he spends it like a gentleman," 
 said Mr. Carter. " I guess this God-forsaken
 
 FOR RICHER, FOR POORER. 241 
 
 place will have to waken up when he comes. 
 Why, there isn't a decent shop in it." 
 
 " Well," said Rufus, " depends what you 
 want. At Dunton's you can buy anything from 
 candy-peel to clothes-pegs ; and if its paregoric 
 pills you need, you get them at the post office." 
 
 " Ay, I find you go to the grocer's here for 
 calico, and to the draper's for hardware, and to 
 the barber's for fresh eggs," laughed Carter. 
 
 " And if you are a sinner and want convert- 
 ing," said Joe, with a sly look at Rufus, " you'll 
 go to the Methody Chapel ; but if you are a saint 
 and want whitewashing you go to church. 
 Queer, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Very," said Carter. " But the vicar seems 
 a decent sort." 
 
 " He's one of God's gentlemen," said Rufus. 
 " We are exalted to heaven with privileges in 
 this village." 
 
 " Let me see," exclaimed Joe, " what did 
 you say Sir John was ? " 
 
 " I 'don't know that I have said anything 
 about it," said Carter. 
 
 " Is it a secret ? " asked Joe, checkmated. 
 
 " No, not particular." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 The dialogue was too difficult to continue on 
 these lines, and Joe tried another. 
 
 " Is he fond of horses, Sir John ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 ' ' Keeps a carriage, of course ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 ' ' Any hunters ? " 
 
 "Well, he has not in London. Not many 
 
 Q
 
 242 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 four-legged foxes in Fleet Street, though there 
 are plenty of two-legged ones." 
 
 "Any family?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " What's Lady Thing-a-ma-jig like ? " 
 
 " Don't know. Never seen her." 
 
 " Close as an oyster," muttered Joe. He 
 ventured one more question. "Is he an old 
 man, Sir John ? " 
 
 " Sir," said Carter, " I heard a boy ask 
 another in the village the other morning how 
 old he was ? and he replied ' as old as my 
 tongue and a little older than my teeth.' 
 Sharp children hereabouts ! Sir John would be 
 about the same age." 
 
 Rufus chuckled as Mr. Carter wished them 
 " Good morning." 
 
 " He was not born on April fool's day, that 
 one," said Joe. " He's as hard to get anything 
 out of as a church money box." 
 
 At length the 25th arrived, and the village 
 was astir early. The new-comer was to make 
 his appearance by the eleven o'clock train. 
 The Hall had been splendidly furnished. Load 
 after load of furniture had arrived, until the 
 villagers wondered if there was ever going to 
 be an end. On the night of the 24th a bevy of 
 half-a-dozen servants came and took possession. 
 The villagers were in a strait 'twixt two courses. 
 That morning Mary Benson was to be married 
 at half-past eleven. The ceremony was to take 
 place about the same time as the new-comer 
 was expected to arrive. It seemed as though 
 they would have to choose between witnessing 
 the ceremony, or obtaining a sight of the myster-
 
 FOR RICHER, FOR POORER. 
 
 ious Sir John when he arrived at the Hall. 
 As Jack Crookworth had not been seen since the 
 morning he had suddenly disappeared again, 
 three weeks before, many were the opinions 
 ventured as to whether he would come or not. 
 but those in " the know" declared that Mary 
 had received a letter from him saying he would 
 be at the church in time for the wedding, and 
 that she was to be sure and be there, and bring 
 Rufus and Gwen with her as witnesses. 
 
 The streets were all alive when Mary, accom- 
 panied by Gwen, made her way to the church. 
 Only by a bit of stratagem had Rufus got his 
 wife to consent to allow Gwen to act the part of 
 bridesmaid, while he had remained silent about 
 the part he was to play in the forthcoming 
 ceremony. 
 
 He had provided the bride and bridesmaid 
 with a bouquet each fit for a Royal wedding. 
 Mary was dressed in a neat costume befitting 
 her station, while Gwen was arrayed in cream, 
 and looked so radiant and happy that a stranger 
 would have taken her for the bride. 
 
 Rufus had engaged the ringers, and the bells 
 were filling the air with music as the little party 
 of three made their way to the church, where the 
 vicar sat in the vestry awaiting them. The 
 hour approached and still there was no appear- 
 ance of Jack, and the little handful who had 
 entered the church began to wink and nod at 
 one another in token that their prophecies would 
 be fulfilled, and that there would be no wedding 
 after all. Gwen tried to look brave, but 
 the face of the bride became paler as the time 
 drew near. Only Rufus wore a confidential
 
 244 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 smile, and kept whispering words of cheer to 
 the maiden. 
 
 " Do you think he will come, Mr. Went- 
 worth ? " Mary asked, as the half-hour struck 
 on the church clock and no Jack had appeared. 
 
 " Sure as throstles lay blue eggs," said Rufus. 
 Just then there was a shout outside. Up the 
 hill a carriage with outriders dashed at breakneck 
 speed. 
 
 ' ' Sir John's carriage ! " was the cry ; and 
 the people in a body left the church to hurry to 
 the hall, and obtain a first glimpse at the new 
 local magnate, so that there was nobody left 
 in the sanctuary but the wedding group. But 
 when the postillion reached the entrance to the 
 Hall, instead of turning inside he shouted to 
 the crowd to clear the way, and kept straight 
 on to the church gates. Arriving there, a gentle- 
 man jumped out in great haste, followed by 
 another whom the crowd recognised as Carter 
 Sir John's agent. Into the church they went, 
 the crowd hurrying to follow, and straight down 
 the aisle. The stranger nodded to Rufus, 
 bowed to Gwen, and then took the hand of Mary 
 Benson and led her to the altar. It was Jack 
 come back, but not Jack Crookworth, the tramp, 
 but Sir John Crookworth, late Sheriff of London. 
 Mary looked dazed, but bravely went through 
 her part. After the ceremony was over the 
 bridegroom, having tenderly kissed the bride, 
 whispered something to the clergyman, who 
 smiled and nodded acquiescence. Sir John 
 turned and addressed the congregation. 
 
 " Friends, I have come to-day to fulfil a 
 promise that I made thirty years ago, to claim
 
 FOR RICHER, FOR POORER. 245 
 
 the hand of one of the best women on God's 
 earth." Here he drew his bride to his side, and, 
 putting his arm round her, continued: "For 
 many years, through information wilfully and 
 falsely given, I believed that she was wedded to 
 another, and only a little while ago did I learn 
 that I had been deceived. I came to your village 
 three weeks ago in the guise of a poor beggar, for 
 I was anxious to see how my old friends would 
 treat me. How some of you received me you 
 know, and I shall not forget. But more of that 
 another time. This good man " (pointing to 
 Rufus) " took me in and fed me, and would 
 have clothed me, and bedded me also, if I would 
 have let him, and to him alone I imparted my 
 secret that my circumstances were other than 
 they seemed. I then went on to see Miss Benson. 
 She took me for what I appeared to be a poor, 
 penniless, beggar man and she offered me a 
 share in all she had. She loves me still. I am 
 a wealthy man, but I believe if she had received 
 me coldly I should never have had much faith 
 in human kind again. Now I am going to take 
 her to the Hall, near at hand, where, please God, 
 we shall end our days. That is all I want to 
 say now, but to-morrow I will invite you all to 
 come to dinner at the Hall, and there will be 
 games for the children, and I trust you will 
 all have a happy time. Then I may tell you 
 how my wife and I intend to promote the 
 best interests of the village, in which we 
 shall be guided by the two wisest councillors 
 we could choose, the vicar and Rufus Went- 
 worth." 
 
 The crowd rushed into the sunshine, surprise
 
 246 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 on every countenance, and it took a long time 
 to understand what was taking place. 
 
 When the wedding party came out they gave 
 a great cheer, the bells clanging as the horses 
 pranced in their impatience to be off. 
 
 And so Mary Benson came to her new home. 
 " It was like Jack Crookworth to play a practical 
 joke on his friends," everybody said, but it was 
 too bad of Rufus not to give them a hint of what 
 was coming. But Rufus sat in his greenhouse 
 and chuckled that evening till he was purple in 
 the face. " It was better than raisin cake," 
 he said, " to see the vicar's face when Sir John 
 came in. And it was like a glimpse of Heaven 
 to see the tears flowing down Bessie Harrison's 
 face when I told her that he's going to give her 
 a pension. Bless me ! I would not have missed 
 it for a gold medal at the best show in the 
 kingdom."
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 HE WENT ABOUT DOING GOOD. 
 
 " But I remember now, I'm in this earthly world, where to 
 do harm is often laudable ; to do good sometimes is counted 
 dangerous folly." SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 ALONG the cobble-paved street Rufus Went- 
 worth was pushing a wheelbarrow full of plants 
 which he was taking to re-pot. He was whistling 
 a hymn tune, filling the air with music, and 
 greeting everybody with a good-natured nod as 
 he went on. 
 
 At the street corner stood Bill Stroud, the 
 ne'er-do-well of the village, with his hands deep 
 in his pockets and sucking an old clay pipe. 
 He had in vain tried to light it, for the tobacco 
 had been twice smoked and nothing but a little 
 grey ash was left. But he was without a penny, 
 and was just wondering whether his credit was 
 sufficiently good at the " Black Lion " for just 
 one more glass. The result of his cogitation 
 was not encouraging, for already he owed 
 more than he was likely to pay during the 
 next three months, and Alport, the publican, 
 had turned him away the night before. And 
 so he leaned disconsolately against the corner 
 of a house and looked through pessimistic 
 eyes on life in general and upon his own i 
 particular.
 
 248 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " Hard job that, Bill," said Rufus cheerfully. 
 " How much a week do you get for it ? " 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 " Why, holding Dicken's house up wi' your 
 shoulder. How much does he give you for it ? 
 It must be desperate hard work." 
 
 " Nowt," said Bill. " I hanno got anything 
 to do. I canno get owt." 
 
 " Bill," said Rufus, " you reminds me of a 
 fellow that called one day and asked for a job. 
 He stood six feet in his stockings, but every 
 inch of him was scrapings, and poor at that. 
 I told him I wanted a man to dig some taties, 
 but he said his hands were too soft ; and when 
 I wanted him to weed the flower beds he said it 
 was a child's job and not for a grown man. 
 He was too big for light work, and had a crick 
 in his back that prevented him doing heavy 
 work, and so he went about sponging on others. 
 Bill, take my advice and tackle the hardest job 
 you can find, and whistle all the time you are 
 doing it, and sweat the devil out of your bones. 
 If thou really wants work, come along and I will 
 give thee something to do, for I hate to see a 
 young fellow like you standing about temptin' 
 Satan to find some mischief for you." 
 
 Bill was not anxious for a job, but there was 
 a vacuum under his waistcoat which he could 
 see no way of filling save by accepting the offer 
 of Rufus. 
 
 " Here, let me wheel that, mister," he said, 
 after walking a few paces alongside of the 
 barrow ; " I'm younger than you are." 
 
 " Ay," said Rufus, " I'm a good thirty years 
 nearer heaven, in the ordinary course of things,
 
 HE WENT ABOUT DOING GOOD. 249 
 
 than you, measuring by years ; but measuring 
 by geography, Bill, I'm afraid there is no danger 
 of us tying at the gate, for you don't seem to 
 have started on the journey yet. But some 
 day you may, and then, maybe, you will pull up 
 and overrun me at last, for I'm but a slow 
 pilgrim myself, and haven't made the progress 
 I should. But you shall have a turn in the 
 handles directly, while I get my wind and ease 
 my back. Guess this barrow would run easier 
 if it had a drop of oil on it. It's been standing 
 and getting rusty for want of use. There is 
 nothing like being kept at it for making work 
 easy, whether for a man or a wheelbarrow. 
 Here, take hold, lad." 
 
 Bill went to the handles ; but a sudden 
 thought came to Rufus, and he said, " Wait a 
 moment. What did you have for your break- 
 fast mutton chops ? " 
 
 Bill hung his head for a moment, and then 
 said, almost defiantly, " Nowt." 
 
 ' ' And the same menu for supper, eh ? " 
 
 "Ay." 
 
 1 ' And maybe for dinner ? " 
 
 " No ; piece of raw turnip." 
 
 " Bill," said Rufus, " if I were you I'd strike. 
 You've a poor maister if that's how he feeds 
 you. And I see you don't go to a fashionable 
 tailor for your livery. Not had a new suit lately, 
 Bill. Seems there needs to be a gatherin' in 
 of the back rents. And you certainly don't 
 waste much on shoe leather. It may be con- 
 venient for folks with sweaty feet to have three 
 holes for the air to get in, and four for it to get 
 out, but it must be awkward when'it snows.
 
 250 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Ay, Bill, I'd give him the sack, that I would^ 
 on the shortest possible notice. But you drop 
 those handles this minute and make tracks for 
 our kitchen, and tell Gwen that Pve sent you 
 to put yourself outside as much beef and bread 
 as you can conveniently do during the next 
 half-hour. Let your teeth work till they sweat, 
 and then, when you have grown tired of working 
 your jaws, we will give your hands a turn. I 
 never could lift on an empty stomach myself, 
 for I feel as if the top half and the bottom half 
 don't belong to one another." 
 
 Bill needed no second command, but hurried 
 off, and soon Rufus saw him knocking at the 
 door. 
 
 " Guess he'll make a hole in the cold beef," 
 he chuckled, " and won't need to have any 
 pickles to help it down. I'm a decent hand 
 with a knife and fork myself, but I'd not take 
 Bill on for a wager. 'Pears to me that Bill's a 
 walking example that ungodliness is not profit- 
 able." 
 
 Rufus commenced again to push the wheel- 
 barrow, when out of a yard came running a lad r 
 and after him a woman with a big stick which 
 she was flourishing, and shouting, " You im- 
 pudent young rascal, I'll break every bone in 
 your body if I catch you you wicked, thieving 
 scamp ! " 
 
 " Hallo, Jim," exclaimed Rufus, " what's 
 wrong ? " 
 
 " Wrong," replied the woman, " I'll wrong 
 him if I get hold of him ; I'll flay him alive ! " 
 
 " Nay, nay, missus," said Rufus, with just 
 the shadow of a smile playing round the corners
 
 HE WENT ABOUT DOING GOOD. 251 
 
 of his mouth, ' ' flaying alive binna in the fashion 
 in this country just now. I've seen an eel 
 skinned alive when I was younger, and I thowt 
 it was a cruel business, and the eel objected all 
 he knew ; but I never heard yet of a lad being 
 skinned alive, and seems to me, unless he's 
 murdered the baby or something desperate, 
 flaying alive is rather drastic measures. What 
 has he done ? " 
 
 " Done," she shouted. " I'll tell him what 
 he's done when I lay hands on him, see if I don't. 
 I'll break his back." 
 
 " Breaking backs," said Rufus, " is action- 
 able at law, to say nothin' about it not being 
 easy to those not used to the business. Suppose 
 you just broke a thumb, or a big toe, to 
 start with. That might serve your purpose. 
 But you have not told me yet what the 
 offence is." 
 
 " Why," she answered, " I caught him steal- 
 ing the sugar, and all the time he was pretending 
 to read the Bible. And when I charged him 
 with it he called me a liar to my face." 
 
 "Oh, Jim! Jim!" cried Rufus, "what a 
 terrible thing ! I think I must let you be flayed 
 alive, or have your back broken, or your fingers 
 cracked, or summat. Do you know the Fifth 
 Commandment, eh ? " > ^ 
 
 " She's elwis sayin' I take things, she is, 
 blubbered Jim. "And I wasn't eatin' the 
 ust a crust of bread. And 
 
 sugar. It was just a crust ^ 
 
 won't be cowed over, and domineered o'er, and 
 hectored, and lectored o'er and o'er, and have 
 my ears boxed with the frying pan, or the hot 
 saucepan dropped on my head. I'll go for a
 
 252 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 sodger, that I will. I'll 'list and won't never 
 come back, and " 
 
 " Stop a minute, Jim. Let's go one step at 
 a time. Did you call your mother a liar ? " 
 
 " I'll 'list " 
 
 "Did you ?" 
 
 " Mister Wentworth, if you were in my place 
 
 " I want you to answer my question." 
 
 " Yes, and " 
 
 " Well, then, Jim, the first thing before you 
 'list, or have your back broken, or your fingers 
 cracked, is for you to beg her pardon." 
 
 " I wunno." 
 
 " Oh, but you will, you know." 
 
 "I wunno." 
 
 "Sure?" 
 
 "Ay." 
 
 Rufus seized the stick the mother held in one 
 hand and Jim by the other, and, cleverly laying 
 the boy across the wheelbarrow, he laid on with 
 might and main. One, two, three, four strokes. 
 " Now will you beg your mother's pardon ? " 
 
 "No, I " 
 
 Five, six, seven. Just then the stick was 
 seized from behind, and the mother sobbed, 
 " Oh, my boy, you'll hurt him." 
 
 "Ay, said Rufus, "but it's better than 
 being flayed alive. Loose the stick, missus." 
 
 Eight, nine, ten. ' ' Now will you beg pardon, 
 Jim ? " 
 
 Jim was silent. 
 
 "He's coming to," said Rufus. "He has 
 reached the stage of silent repentance, and that's 
 a healthy sign."
 
 HE WENT ABOUT DOING GOOD. 253 
 
 ' Oh, please don't hurt him again," cried the 
 mother. ' He binna so very bad," and again 
 she made a grab at the stick. 
 
 * Stand aside, ma'am," said Rufus. " I 
 never begin a job of this sort but I go through 
 with it. I'm not killing him ; I know where the 
 soft places are." 
 
 Eleven, twelve. 
 
 " I will, Mister Wentworth. I'll beg pardon 
 I will. Oh dear, oh ! " 
 
 * Right, Jim, then we will leave off. Now 
 say, ' Mother, I beg your pardon for being rude 
 to you.' ' 
 
 ' Mother, I beg your pardon for being rude 
 to you," repeated Jim. 
 
 ' And I promise not to do so again," went on 
 Rufus. 
 
 " And I promise not to do so again." 
 
 1 'That's all right," said Rufus cheerfully. 
 " Now you can go. And mind, if you don't 
 keep your promise, worse will come of it." 
 
 Jim made off as fast as he could, and Rufus 
 turned to the mother and said, '* He's the 
 making of a man in him has Jim, if he's not 
 spoiled." 
 
 "He is becoming unmanageable," replied 
 the mother. "He's getting too big to thrash, 
 and he sets me at defiance." 
 
 " Ay," said Rufus, " thrashin' may be good 
 as a kind o' treat, but saucepans and fryin' pans 
 binna the things to do it with. There are times 
 when a young ashplant will take a lot of im- 
 pudence out of a lad, but he never ought to 
 need it. A young horse that's rightly broken 
 don't need much whip, but if he binna taken
 
 254 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 well in hand to begin wi', whip he must have. 
 There's a nice lot o' young pigs you have, Missus 
 Jumper." 
 
 1 1 Ay ; but they are eatin' their heads off. 
 I must get rid of them as soon as I can." 
 
 ' l It seems a pity ; there are so many things 
 you can learn from pigs. Pigs don't make 
 bad preachers." 
 
 The woman opened her mouth wide, but said 
 nothing. 
 
 ' ' Pigs," continued Rufus, ' ' ain't choice eaters, 
 but they are capital grunters, and they never 
 look up until they are on their backs. And the 
 little pigs always try to grunt like their mother. 
 Good morning, Mrs. Jumper." 
 
 Having conveyed this moral lesson, Rufus 
 went merrily on for a short distance, then he 
 sat down on the barrow and commenced to talk 
 to himself. 
 
 " There you are, Rufus, at your old game 
 again, putting your spoon into other folks' 
 broth. How often have I told you to mind 
 your own business, sir ? Ay, but there is no 
 habit harder to cure than meddlesomeness. 
 It's a bad thing when one gets a notion that it is 
 one's duty to be a general corrector of public 
 morals. And that's the position you are a 
 candidate for, and you binna fitted either by 
 birth or education for it. Nowt but an angel 
 or a fool is, and you binna the former, and, well, 
 I hope you binna the latter." 
 
 After this apostrophe to himself he rubbed 
 his hands, and was just yoking the barrow again 
 when he saw a carriage and pair coming along 
 the road at a furious rate. A cloud of dust rose
 
 HE WENT ABOUT DOING GOOD. 255 
 
 after it, and as Rufus watched it he was surprised 
 to see it whirling from side to side. It was soon 
 evident that the horses had got out of hand, 
 and every moment they were in danger of 
 throwing the carriage over. Rufus stood for 
 a moment thinking how best to act, and then, 
 thrusting the wheelbarrow half across the road, 
 he stood in the middle of the other half with 
 arms outstretched. 
 
 The horse came thundering on. Rufus had 
 a bad moment as they bore down on him with- 
 out any slackening of speed, but he courageously 
 held his ground, and almost within a foot of 
 him they suddenly swerved. He made a dash 
 for the reins, gripped them, and managed to 
 pull the horses up just as one wheel of the carriage 
 went up the ditch bank. Seated inside was 
 Lady Wincanton, pale as death, but perfectly 
 self-possessed, and by her side, and almost 
 fainting, sat a young and beautiful girl. 
 
 " It's all reet now, ma'am," said Rufus, as 
 he brought the panting horses to a standstill. 
 * ' You'd better get out maybe, and missie too, 
 while I keep hold of the horses. They've had 
 their run, but there's enough steam in them yet 
 to do mischief." 
 
 Lady Wincanton alighted, and assisted her 
 companion who seemed almost paralysed with 
 fright, to do the same. 
 
 ' ' Thank God I was here," said Rufus simply. 
 " It might have ended in disaster. But the 
 angel of the Lord has stood between you and 
 death. If you had gone round the next bend 
 in the road it would have been nothing less than 
 a miracle if you had not been dashed again
 
 256 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Peter Crickmore's gable at the bottom of 
 the hill, for it stands out across the road in a 
 very dangerous manner. There have been 
 two or three nasty accidents already, and I 
 believe the local Council have written your 
 ladyship to have it pulled down and a new 
 house built, but you've done nowt wi' it. 
 Perhaps it will get done now. It would ha' 
 been terrible to think of the young Missie here 
 being killed for life is sweet to the young 
 to say nothin' of yourself. But where is the 
 coachman ? " 
 
 " I sent him into a cottage with a message, 
 and the horses suddenly took alarm at the firing 
 of a gun near at hand and bolted, and I could 
 not hold them. How can I sufficiently thank 
 you, Mr. Wentworth ? " 
 
 " By sayin' nowt about it," replied Rufus. 
 " But if you want to make a thanksgivin' for 
 your deliverance, pull down Crickmore's old 
 cottage and build a new one, for I never pass 
 but what I get a fit of the dithers, lest some poor, 
 unprepared soul gets dashed to pieces on a dark 
 night while driving round the corner. But 
 what are you and the young lady goin' to do ? 
 If you like to get into the carriage I'll drive you 
 to the Hall safe as if you were in Gabriel's arm- 
 chair. You needn't be feared. I'm not as 
 well up in horses as my brother Joe, who can 
 drive anything wi' four legs and a head ; but 
 I know how to handle the reins, and though I'm 
 on the Jordan side of sixty I've a hand as steady 
 as it was at fifty. That comes of early risin', 
 temperance, and livin' for the most part in the 
 open air. If ever a man proved the truth of
 
 HE WENT ABOUT DOING GOOD. 2S7 
 
 the text ' Godliness is profitable,' I'm the man. 
 Will you trust me, ma'am ? " 
 . " Thank you. You are very kind. I think, 
 Evelyn dear, we must trespass still further on 
 Mr. Wentworth's kindness, unless you are afraid 
 to ride further. It is a long distance to the Hall, 
 and I am expecting Harold home for dinner, 
 and I should like to be there to meet him. To 
 think that the dear boy has been away for nine 
 months in South Africa ! " 
 
 " Oh, I'm not afraid," replied Miss Fortesque, 
 " for I am quite sure Mr. Wentworth would not 
 undertake to drive us unless he was confident he 
 could do so with safety." 
 
 11 Reet," said Rufus. " I've a girl at home 
 as bonnie as yourself, Missie, and I wouldn't 
 hesitate a second to ask her to ride when I was 
 on the box wi' a pair of tits like these. They 
 are not vicious, only a bit mettlesome, and a 
 hoss wi'oot mettle is like a preacher wi'oot 
 power of no use to anybody." 
 
 Rufus accordingly mounted the box, and felt 
 all the delight of an old love astir in his heart 
 as he handled the reins, for in his youth he had 
 been as fond of horses as his brother. 
 
 ' ' These are fine cattle," he said, when he 
 had safely brought the carriage to the door of 
 the Hall. "They are as easy to guide as a 
 child. If we were all as obedient to the guiding 
 hand, life would be simpler for most of us. 
 But we champ the bit and try to go our own 
 way until it hurts us. Nay, nay," he continued, 
 as Lady Wincanton took out her purse, 
 dunno want anything. I've enuff and to spare, 
 thank you. Give it to some poor creature that
 
 258 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 needs it. You'll find plenty not far away. 
 And now I wish you all good morning. May you 
 come out of all danger as you have come out of 
 this. Good morning, missie, and if you have 
 half an hour to spare look in at the Rosary. 
 You will be as welcome as ripe cherries." 
 
 That evening a magnificent bouquet of roses 
 was handed in at the Hall for the young lady 
 with the beautiful face, to which was appended 
 the words, " There is but a step between me 
 and death." 
 
 In the meantime Harold had come home, 
 bronzed by the African sun, somewhat sobered 
 by rough experiences in the Transvaal, and with 
 a determination to settle down. The apples 
 of sin had proved but Dead Sea fruit, and had 
 left nothing but ashes in the mouth. But 
 through those long months the thought of Gwen 
 had been constantly with him, and he had learned 
 what a grip she had taken of his affections.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 THE PLOTTING OF THE WICKED. 
 
 " So the false spider when her nets are spread, 
 Deep ambushed in her silent den does lie." ' 
 
 DRYDEN. 
 
 ONE evening, Gwen was greatly surprised at 
 receiving a visit from Lady Wincanton. 
 
 ' I want you to do me a favour, my dear," 
 she said. " I had made arrangements to spend 
 Christmas with Sir Charles Whalley and his 
 good lady at Fordham Beeches. Quite a large 
 number of guests had been asked. But a 
 dreadful thing has happened. Sir Charles re- 
 tired last night in his usual health, but when 
 his wife awoke this morning he was lying dead 
 by her side. So I am likely to spend a lonely 
 Christmas unless, my dear, you will take pity on 
 an old woman and come and spend a few days 
 with me. You can have the use of the carriage 
 whenever you wish, and drive home every day 
 if you like. Harold is in London, and will not 
 return for a fortnight." If Gwen had con- 
 sulted her own feelings she would have declined, 
 for she never felt quite happy in the company of 
 Lady Wincanton, but it was not in her nature 
 to refuse to do a kindness. 
 
 " I will consult my mother," she said, and 
 forthwith went into the garden to where Mrs.
 
 2 <5o ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Wentworth was seated in the greenhouse, watch- 
 ing her husband, and knitting at the same time. 
 She spent many hours there, never saying a 
 word, except when Rufus addressed her, perfectly 
 happy in a sense of his near presence. 
 
 " Well, dear, please yourself," she said, when 
 Gwen laid the request before her. " I have no 
 desire to control your actions, but your father 
 will be disappointed if you do not eat your 
 Christmas dinner at home." 
 
 " What's that ? " said Rufus coming up at 
 that moment. 
 
 Gwen explained, and Rufus had a frown on 
 his brow, as he screwed up his mouth like one 
 who had swallowed a sour plum. 
 
 " Uncle Joe is coming," he said. 
 
 ''That settles it," said Gwen. " I'm not 
 going. Mamma, I wish you'd come and explain." 
 
 " Could you not go on Boxing Day, dear ? " 
 said Mrs. Wentworth. " It seems a little unkind 
 to refuse altogether." 
 
 " If you go before Christmas Day," said 
 Rufus, " I'll eat plum pudding and mince pies 
 until I'm ill, and then you'll have to come back 
 and nurse me. And Joe'll mope like a canary 
 in the moult." 
 
 " You greedy old man," said Gwen. " Shall 
 I act on mamma's suggestion and go on the 
 following day ? " 
 
 " I'm like Sally Growcott when Bill Sadler 
 asked her to be his wife, she said, ' Well, Bill, 
 I'd rather you hadna asked me, but seein' yo 
 have, I reckon I mun say, Aye,' and thus it 
 was settled." 
 
 That Christmas Day was always a landmark
 
 THE PLOTTING OF THE WICKED. 26l 
 
 V^ r f( l 0f ? W6n ' t0 Which she lo ked back 
 
 with delight. It was a day of unalloyed happt 
 
 ness. Joe told his best stories, and Rufus 
 
 laughed until he could laugh no more. I n the 
 
 evening Mr Evans came, and brought his fiddle 
 
 and they had some music and games. It was 
 
 an understood thing that all the boys of the 
 
 village came between seven and eight o'clock 
 
 every _ Christmas and sang in Rufus' garden, 
 
 receiving as a reward a new penny a-piece from 
 
 Rufus, and a mince pie from Gwen. Joe could 
 
 not refrain from practical joking, and slyly 
 
 put some pennies in the oven, ready for the 
 
 singers when they came, and saying that he 
 
 would serve them out, popped a hot penny into 
 
 each outstretched hand. "Hold tight," he 
 
 said, as they dropped their pennies, and to those 
 
 who held them the longest he gave another one ; 
 
 but those who let them fall were treated to the 
 
 derisive epithet " Butter fingers." 
 
 In all the country there was not a happier 
 party than that which gathered in the parlour 
 of Rufus Wentworth. When Joe, however, 
 learned that Gwen was going to stay a fortnight 
 at Stourbridge Hall he expressed his strongest 
 dissent. " A good cat doesna make friends 
 with the rats," he said to his brother. " Lady 
 Jezabel has something up her sleeve, depend 
 on it." 
 
 If they had known what that something was 
 how different the future might have been. 
 
 Next morning Lady Wincanton's carriage 
 came to fetch Gwen, and the last thing she saw 
 on looking out of the window was Mrs. Went- 
 worth trying to get a pillowslip from Rufus in
 
 262 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 which he had buried his face and was pretending 
 to weep. Little did he or she dream that ere 
 long he would weep in earnest, and that the 
 greatest sorrow of his life was even now casting 
 its shadows over his path. 
 
 Her hostess received her with much real, or 
 affected, kindness, and Gwen began to think 
 that on closer acquaintance she would be com- 
 pelled to revise her estimate of the character of 
 Lady Wincanton. Every wish was consulted 
 and every desire forestalled. Two uneventful 
 but happy days passed, and Gwen began to feel 
 quite at home. After wandering in the park 
 one afternoon she was going to her room, when 
 her hostess called her into her boudoir. 
 
 " Come and see my jewels," she said. A 
 casket lay open before her, and in her hands was 
 a magnificent pearl necklace. 
 
 "Is it not beautiful ? " she asked, holding 
 it up for Gwen to admire. " It was given to 
 Lord Wincanton's grandfather by the Mara j ah 
 of Gwenpore for saving him from the teeth of 
 a man-eating tiger." 
 
 " It is simply lovely," said Gwen. " I had 
 no idea that anything so exquisite was in exist- 
 ence. It must be worth a very great sum of 
 money." 
 
 " I suppose it is," replied the hostess, " but 
 I do not know its value. See, here is a diamond 
 cross. That came from Egypt. It is said to 
 have belonged to the late Caliph. Here is a 
 beautiful opal, and these bracelets, while not 
 of exceptional value, are of historic interest. 
 They were given to my husband's mother by 
 the Duchess of Kent."
 
 THE PLOTTING OF THE WICKED. 263 
 
 ' Are you not afraid of having all these in 
 the house ? I should not sleep for fear of 
 robbers," said Gwen simply. 
 
 ' I keep them in a thief proof safe inside this 
 closet, and the key in this secret drawer in my 
 boudoir. Clever, is it not ? I do not think 
 anyone could find it unless they were shown, 
 do you ? " 
 
 ' ' It seems impossible," Gwen replied. ' ' But 
 this necklace is really the most beautiful thing 
 I have ever seen." 
 
 " Let me put it on," said Lady Wincanton, 
 as she fastened the pearls round Gwen's neck. 
 " You look queenly. I do not know which is 
 the loveliest, the necklace or the face above it." 
 
 Gwen blushed deeply at this compliment, 
 coming from the quarter it did. 
 
 " It needed just that touch of added colour," 
 said Lady Wincanton, " to make the picture 
 perfect. Look at yourself in the glass, child. 
 Some day you may wear it as your own. Who 
 knows ? " 
 
 Gwen turned to the glass to hide her confusion, 
 but Lady Wincanton went on as though she were 
 determined to pursue the subject. 
 
 " I do not wonder Harold has lost his head, 
 and his heart to you. A wiser man might be 
 excused from doing so. I suppose he has told 
 you so, child ? " 
 
 ' ' Yes, Lady Wincanton." 
 
 "And you?" she asked abruptly, almost 
 
 fiercely. 
 
 " I told him I did not love him," Gwen re- 
 
 plied in her simple and frank manner. 
 
 " "Humph," muttered Lady Wincanton 
 
 to
 
 264 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 herself, ' ' but I guess you said ' No ' in a manner 
 which meant ask me again and I'll say ' Yes.' " 
 Then, after a pause, " But love, you know, 
 might come on better acquaintance. I do not 
 .say Harold is perfect by any means ; but he 
 is a fine, presentable, fellow, and would, I think, 
 make a good husband." 
 
 To this Gwen did not reply, save by taking 
 the necklace off and handing it to its owner. 
 
 " There," said Lady Wincanton, " we will 
 lock these baubles up, and then you shall sing 
 to me, my dear, if you are not too tired." 
 
 " I shall be delighted, Lady Wincanton." 
 
 So her hostess laid the treasures back in their 
 hiding place one by one, taking care to hold them 
 up to the light as she did so, making them glitter 
 and shine, and after they were once more safely 
 under lock and key, taking Gwen's arm, she led 
 the way to the drawing room, when the young 
 girl did her best to entertain her hostess, with 
 her bright singing, and still brighter conversation. 
 
 So the days passed swiftly on, and Gwen 
 enjoyed her visit much better than at first she 
 had anticipated. Harold returned home on 
 the night before she left, but she did not see him, 
 but when she was about to depart Lady Win- 
 canton not only thanked her warmly, but pre- 
 sented her with a beautiful little gold watch, as 
 a souvenir of her visit. Rufus teased her a good 
 deal about her aristocratic acquaintances, pre- 
 tending that he could not think of sitting down 
 at the same table with her ; but the joy of having 
 her back shone in his eyes as he sat and listened 
 to her descriptions of what she had seen at the 
 Hall.
 
 THE PLOTTING OF THE WICKED. 265 
 
 The next morning Gwen was surprised to 
 receive an urgent message to return to the Hall 
 at once. Mounting her pony, she rode in anxious 
 haste, fearful that Lady Wincanton had been 
 taken seriously ill. When she arrived she was 
 at once shown to the boudoir where she found 
 the lady closeted with two police officers. She 
 received her with some show of effusiveness, 
 kissing her lightly on the cheek. 
 
 " I am really very sorry, Miss Wentworth," 
 she said, " to have to put you to the incon- 
 venience of coming here this morning, but the 
 fact is, my dear, a dreadful thing has happened. 
 You remember the necklace and the diamonds 
 I showed you the other day ? Well, they have 
 been stolen. Some one must have found where 
 I kept the key, for the safe has been opened, 
 and the necklace and two diamonds extracted ; 
 the safe locked again, and the key put back to 
 its proper place. The diamond cross, opals, 
 and a very costly agate brooch have all been left. 
 So you see it has been no common thief, or he 
 would have taken all before him." 
 
 Gwen was conscious all the time this speech 
 was being made that the eyes of the two officers 
 were upon her, but it never entered her thoughts 
 that she was in any way suspected. 
 
 " I am extremely sorry," she said. 'Do 
 you think it was one of the servants ? " 
 
 "That I can hardly believe. Adele, my 
 maid, is the only one allowed in the room, and, 
 as I have been telling these gentlemen, she has 
 been with me for years. She is above suspicion, 
 and the others are all of good character. 
 whole affair is, at present, wrapt in mystery.
 
 266 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 But I have sent for you, my dear, that you might 
 supplement to the officers my description of the 
 missing articles, and tell them exactly how you 
 saw them put away in the safe." 
 
 ' ' With pleasure," replied Gwen, ' ' I need 
 hardly say that anything I can do will be most 
 readily done to help the recovery of that splendid 
 necklace." And forthwith she gave an animated 
 description of what took place when Lady Win- 
 canton had shown her the missing article, and 
 of the jewels themselves. 
 
 " Thank you, Miss Wentworth, we need 
 detain you no longer," said Lady Wincanton. 
 " I have no doubt we shall in some way get on 
 the track of the culprit." 
 
 Gwen returned home with an undefinable 
 sense of uneasiness resting on her mind. The 
 robbery was discussed over the dinner table, 
 and was soon the talk of the village. Rufus 
 had to repeat Gwen's story over and over 
 again for the benefit of his cronies, and very 
 amusing were some of the solutions offered as 
 to how the jewels had been extracted. 
 
 Two days passed, and nothing was heard, 
 and no further light thrown on the mystery, 
 save that Adele had been in the village and said 
 that her mistress had written to Scotland Yard 
 for a skilled detective to come down at once. 
 Meanwhile Joe Wentworth had called to claim 
 a promise made long before that Gwen should 
 go and spend a week at the Red Acres. 
 
 Rufus and he argued about it for an hour, he 
 being loath to part with her again so soon, but 
 Joe ultimately got his own way, and carried 
 her off in high glee ; telling his brother that
 
 THE PLOTTING OF THE WICKED. 267 
 
 unless he mended his manners she would not 
 return. 
 
 The next day a tall, hard-featured man with 
 a heavy and somewhat forbidding countenance, 
 and an abrupt manner appeared at Stourbridge 
 Hall, and announced himself as Inspector Hufton 
 of Scotland Yard. Having heard Lady Win- 
 canton's story he interviewed the servants 
 separately, and examined them in what seemed 
 to be a very careless and perfunctory manner, 
 but which was all part of a well-studied method. 
 
 Having completed his examination, he turned 
 to Lady Wincanton, and said, " You tell me 
 you had a young lady visitor at the time to 
 whom you showed these jewels and the key. 
 Is she still in the house ? " 
 
 " No," she lives in the next village, "and 
 returned home before I missed the necklace." 
 
 " Humph," muttered the inspector, making 
 a note in his book. " But," went on Lady 
 Wincanton, "it is very improbable that is 
 to say, I think it is utterly unlikely that she 
 can have anything to do with the robbery. 
 Her father is 'a highly respectable man, though 
 somewhat of an oddity, and she is a very trust- 
 worthy and talented young lady. She seemed 
 greatly disturbed when she was told about 
 the theft." 
 
 " No doubt," said the detective, who had 
 already made up his mind. 
 
 " I should not like it to be thought that 
 had in any way cast a doubt upon the honesty 
 of Miss Wentworth. You will no doubt take 
 the course you deem wisest, but if you think it 
 necessary to see her, or search her box, you wilJ
 
 268 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 let it be clearly understood that you do it on 
 your own initiative, and not because of anything 
 I have said. I do not wish her or her friends 
 to be put to needless trouble." 
 
 " Leave it in my hands," replied Hufton. 
 " I only regret you did not send for me sooner. 
 Notwithstanding all your ladyship has said I 
 shall be surprised if we do not find that Miss 
 Wentworth is the key to the problem." 
 
 " I do not think so," was the reply ; but as 
 she passed out of the room there was a gleam 
 of triumph in her eye.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 THE DEEP WATERS. 
 
 " So if we haste to the music, 
 Some hope with a starry wing, 
 
 In the days of our darkest sorrow, 
 Will sit in the heart and sing." P. GARY. 
 
 RUFUS and his wife were just sitting down 
 to tea when there was a loud knock at the door, 
 and in response to a hearty " Come in," Detective 
 Hufton entered, and casting a keen glance round 
 the place inquired if Miss Wentworth was in. 
 
 " No," said Rufus, " she's gone to see her 
 Uncle Joe, and won't be back till the end of the 
 week, and our house is like a cage without the 
 canary now she's away. I don't grudge Joe 
 the loan of her, but it is a sacrifice. But take 
 a seat, it is as cheap sitting as standing, and 
 more neighbourly." 
 
 " Thank you," said the detective, taking the 
 preferred seat. ' ' May I inquire where this 
 Uncle Joe lives ? " 
 
 " Ay," said Rufus, "but I guess you don't 
 live within forty miles of Summerton if you 
 don't know that already. Joe Wentworth of 
 the Red Acres is 'most as well known in these 
 parts as the King is in London. You'll find 
 his place about two miles out on the Stourbridge 
 Road. You'll know it because there bmna 
 another farmhouse within a mile of it, and by 
 the tidiness of the place. Farmyards are
 
 270 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 generally a litter of all sorts, but there binna 
 many straws out of place in Joe's. Solomon 
 says he passed by the vineyard of the slothful, 
 and he knew it belonged to a lazy man and a 
 fool at first sect. The fool couldn't have a 
 garden wi'oot it tellin' everybody he was a fool. 
 Likewise the industrious farmer, let me see his 
 farmyard, and I'll tell you what sort of man 
 he is." 
 
 " What may you want with Miss Went- 
 worth ? " asked Mrs. Wentworth, speaking for 
 the first time. Some indefinable fear had fallen 
 upon her heart, mingled with a dislike of the 
 stranger. 
 
 " I'll guess at twice," said Rufus with a 
 knowing smile. " He wants her either to sing 
 at some big concert, or else he's selling pianos. 
 How's that, stranger, for a guess ? " 
 
 " I regret to say that my business is not so 
 pleasant. The fact is I've called to ask Miss 
 Wentworth a few questions respecting the 
 robbery at Stourbridge Hall. I understand she 
 was staying with Lady Wincanton at the time. 
 Here is my card." 
 
 " Right," said Rufus cheerfully. " I'm sorry 
 she's not in. It was a queer thing how those 
 diamonds disappeared. Gwen said they were 
 stunners and worth a hatful of money. It's 
 real vexing to lose anything, even a penknife ; 
 but it must be as bad as breaking a front tooth 
 in biting a crust, to lose such valuable things as 
 these. I don't wonder her ladyship is in a 
 swither about it. When all the treasure is on 
 the earth, and the thieves break through and 
 steal it is heartbreaking certain. But I can
 
 THE DEEP WATERS. 2?I 
 
 save you a journey to the Red Acres, for I know 
 that Gwen knows. We talked it over, not 
 once but twenty times ; didn't we, mother ? " 
 
 ' I must see her, nevertheless," replied the 
 detective. ' In the meantime I am placed 
 under the unpleasant necessity of requesting 
 that you give me permission to search Miss 
 Wentworth's room and boxes. I have a search 
 warrant here. You will find it perfectly in 
 order." 
 
 Rufus' eyes opened wide, and his jaw dropped, 
 and his wife noticed his fingers were twitching, 
 as he rose from his seat and sat down again in 
 silence. 
 
 " You know duty is duty," continued the 
 detective, " however unpleasant." 
 
 ' Ay," said Rufus, drawing his hand across 
 his lips, which were both hot and dry. 
 
 There was a tense silence for a moment, and 
 then Hufton went on, " In a case like this, 
 involving thousands of pounds, it is plain we 
 are bound to follow up every possible clue." 
 
 " Ay," replied Rufus again, mechanically. 
 
 " So, if you please, we will proceed with our 
 work." 
 
 He rose, but Rufus sat looking at him like a 
 stricken animal, and he was glad to turn away 
 from the glare of his fiery eyes. 
 
 " Will you show me Miss Wentworth's 
 room ? " he said, addressing Mrs. Wentworth. 
 " I really must be getting on." 
 
 " Stop," thundered Rufus, springing to his 
 feet. " Let me understand. Do you mean 
 to insinuate that my girl has taken those 
 diamonds ? "
 
 272 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " I make no charge as yet," said the detective. 
 " I only say that suspicion lies in her direction." 
 "Who says so?" asked Rufus. "I've 
 seen the day when I should have thrown the 
 man through the window who dared so much 
 as hint at such a thing." 
 
 " Pooh ! Mr. Wentworth, you are talking 
 nonsense," replied the detective ; nevertheless, 
 he drew further back as he saw the purposeful, 
 white face of the old man, and observed the 
 flash in his eyes. 
 
 " Perhaps I am," said Rufus. " I've been 
 taken unawares. The old Adam is not yet 
 dead. But let me warn you, stranger, if you 
 go to Red Acres not to mention this matter in 
 the hearing of my brother Joe, or I will not be 
 answerable for consequences. Come this way. 
 My girl is as innocent as the babe just born, but 
 how are you to know it, unless you know her ? 
 I beg your pardon, I've been a bit hasty." 
 
 They went upstairs, Mrs. Wentworth leading 
 the way, and Rufus coming last. The detective 
 was shown into the little room. The white 
 coverlet on the bed ; the dainty curtains ; 
 everything bespoke the most delicate taste, 
 and good order. 
 
 " Which box did Miss Wentworth have with 
 her at the Hall ? " 
 
 " This," replied Mrs. Wentworth. 
 
 "Is it locked?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 ' * Humph ! " said Hufton, ' * then 4,000 
 worth of jewellery is hardly likely to be in there. 
 Will you kindly lift the things out ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wentworth proceeded to do so, the keen
 
 THE DEEP WATERS. 2?3 
 
 eyes of the detective watching her closely. At 
 length the box was empty, and with a sigh of 
 relief she turned towards him. 
 
 * Satisfactory, so far," he said, in a tone 
 almost of disappointment. " But here is a 
 small box at the bottom. What does it con- 
 tain ? " 
 
 ;< Handkerchiefs," she said, pulling off the 
 lid, and lifting the handkerchiefs. Then she 
 uttered a piteous cry, and attempted to replace 
 the lid, but fell in a dead faint on the floor. 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Hufton, lifting the box, 
 ;c so we have made a discovery after all." 
 There at the bottom of the box lay the pearl 
 necklace, and some of the missing diamonds. 
 
 Rufus rushed to his wife's help, and tenderly 
 lifted her on the bed, chafing her hands in the 
 meanwhile. In that moment it was well his 
 attention was so fully occupied, or he himself 
 might have been stricken down with this sudden 
 blow. The detective would have assisted her, 
 but he pushed him away, and so he hastened 
 downstairs to call for help. 
 
 In a short time Hufton was driving to the 
 Red Acres with a warrant for the apprehension 
 of Gwen. When he arrived he was met at the 
 gate by Joe, of whom he inquired if Miss Went- 
 worth was at home. 
 
 " Yes. She's in the parlour singing like 
 four-and-twenty blackbirds on a holiday," re- 
 plied the farmer. " Did you want to see her ? 
 Business important breach of promise, or some- 
 thin' of that sort, eh ? " he added, looking 
 dubiously at his visitor. 
 
 " Something more serious, I am sorry to say.
 
 274 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 I am here to arrest her for stealing Lady Win- 
 canton's jewellery." 
 
 " What ? " shouted Joe." Repeat that again." 
 
 The detective did so. Joe stopped right in 
 his path. 
 
 " You've said that twice, so I guess you know 
 your story pretty well ; but if you will repeat 
 it a third time I shall have the greatest pleasure 
 in the world in knocking you down. I guessed 
 there was some dirty job on when I saw the cut 
 of your ugly jaw. Now, there's the gate, and 
 if you're not outside it in two seconds I will kick 
 you out." 
 
 " But, Mr. Wentworth " began Hufton. 
 
 " But no but, for me. Out you go, you 
 dirty-tongued villain." And seizing him by 
 the collar he rushed him to the gate, hurled him 
 half across the road, and stood glaring at him 
 over the railings. 
 
 " You will repent this," exclaimed the de- 
 tective. " I shall have you summoned for 
 resisting the law." 
 
 " Right," exclaimed Joe, who was beginning 
 to recover his equanimity. 
 
 His outburst of temper seldom lasted more 
 than a few moments and he described himself 
 as " a little pot soon hot," but he as quickly 
 cooled. 
 
 * ' Summon away ; but keep your tongue 
 from defaming a girl who has not her equal in 
 this county or the next to it, or it will be the 
 hoss pond next." 
 
 Just then Gwen, hearing angry voices, 
 appeared at the door, and came walking down 
 to the gate.
 
 THE DEEP WATERS. 2?5 
 
 " What is it, Uncle Joe ? " she asked. " Is 
 something amiss ? " 
 
 "Oh, nothing," replied Joe evasively. 
 Only here's a full-grown man that somebody 
 has been trying to make a fool of. 'Taint first 
 of April, but there's fools enough for every day 
 of the year, and this one seems to fill up the 
 whole three hundred and sixty-five of the 
 calendar all to himself. But you'd better go 
 in, lass. It's cowd enuff to freeze a cake in the 
 oven." 
 
 * Excuse me, miss," said the detective, who 
 saw his opportunity. " Is your name Miss 
 Gwendoline Wentworth ? " 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 ' ' Then I grieve to say it is my duty to arrest 
 
 you for stealing Lady Wincanton's diamonds." 
 
 Gwen stood for a moment, her hands on her 
 
 uncle's shoulders, and then, drawing herself up, 
 
 she said : ' ' You cannot mean it ; you are surely 
 
 joking ? I know nothing about the diamonds." 
 
 " I fear, miss, you will find it no joke before 
 
 you have done with it. I think in fairness I 
 
 ought to tell you the pearl necklace and some 
 
 of the diamonds have been found in your box 
 
 at home, and I also warn you that anything you 
 
 say now may be used in evidence against you." 
 
 " Found in my box ! " exclaimed Gwen. 
 
 " Then they have been put there by somebody 
 
 to ruin me. I am innocent." 
 
 " I trust it may prove so," replied Hufton, 
 " but in the meantime, miss, I must trouble 
 you to come with me to Whitehurst Jail." 
 
 1 ' To jail ! " exclaimed Gwen, turning white 
 to the lips. ' ' You want to take ME to jail ! "
 
 276 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " I fear, young lady, there is no alternative 
 under the circumstances. And I must ask 
 you to be as quick as you can for my horse is 
 starving yonder a bit along the road." 
 
 Joe, who had listened with tense face and 
 sparkling eyes to the dialogue, realising further 
 opposition was useless, turned on his heel and 
 began to walk into the house. Gwen followed, 
 and, putting her hand on his, said piteously, 
 " Uncle, you you do not believe this, surely ? " 
 
 " No, lass," he said, " I'd sooner believe that 
 Summerton Church steeple had been on a holiday 
 to Epsom Races and got drunk. Here," he 
 cried, seeing Hufton standing in the doorway, 
 11 take yourself out into the garden, and wait 
 till you are wanted. This is the house of a 
 gentleman." 
 
 "It is my duty not to lose sight of Miss 
 Wentworth," said the detective, " and I'm not 
 going to either." 
 
 " Binna you," said Joe. " Here, Gyp," he 
 cried to a long-legged deerhound that lay at his 
 feet, " watch him, lad." The dog in an instant 
 was on his feet, the long bristles on his neck erect, 
 his teeth bared, as with a low and ominous 
 growl he planted himself ready for a spring. 
 " There, there, lad," said Joe soothingly, " not 
 yet. Now if you come a step further," he added, 
 addressing the officer, " it is at your own peril.', 
 
 " I shall report this," said Hufton. "It is 
 a serious matter to resist an officer in the dis- 
 charge of his duties." 
 
 " I reckon it is," said Joe. " But Gwen 
 binna going to run away, she binna that sort, 
 and I am not going to have you following her
 
 THE DEEP WATERS. 2?7 
 
 all over the house as if she were a common pick- 
 pocket, and proclaiming it to the servants. 
 There is some hokey-pokey work in this business. 
 I'll lay my head against a swede turnip the girl's 
 as innocent as a two-year-old, and that owd 
 Jezebel up at the Hall is at the bottom of this. 
 Now, Gwen, lass, are ye ready ? You couldn't 
 have been quicker if you'd have been goin' to ' 
 a weddin'. Gi'es a kiss, and keep a stiff upper 
 lip. Somebody's got to pay for this bit of a 
 picnic you're goin' to have, and I'll be at the 
 settlin' of the bill." 
 
 Gwen's tears fell hot on his cheek, and his 
 voice was a bit shaky as he turned to Hufton, 
 and said : "I guess, stranger, I owe you an 
 apology ; I've been a bit rough, but you'll grant 
 the circumstances are rayther exceptional. It 
 binna everyday we hev' a hangin' business in 
 our family. Just be kind to the little lass, and 
 make it as easy for her as ye can. It is not 
 quite dark yet, and if I were you I wouldna' 
 go through Summerton to Whitehurst. The 
 other road's a bit farther round, but it is better 
 driving. And maybe you want to light your 
 pipe on the way. Here's a bit of paper that 
 will mostly catch fire anywhere," and he threw 
 into his hand a five-pound note. 
 
 " Miss Wentworth shall have every con- 
 sideration the unfortunate circumstances in 
 which she finds herself placed will allow. And 
 I may overlook what has happened to me here 
 if I meet with no further obstruction." 
 
 " That's as you please," said Joe. "J never 
 set the band a-playin' but I am willing to pay 
 for the music."
 
 278 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Gwen looked the thanks she did not dare to 
 speak, and went out, Hufton following. 
 
 Joe hurried to the door, and shouted, "I'll 
 be following on by-and-by, but I must go to 
 see Rufe first," and then as he turned into the 
 house he muttered, " Poor Rufe, this will 
 break his heart ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 THE TRIAL OF INNOCENCY. 
 
 " How little do they see what is, who frame 
 Their hasty judgment upon that which seems 1 " 
 
 DRYDEN. 
 
 The little Court at Whitehurst was crowded. 
 There was an unusual stir and bustle everywhere. 
 Lawyers ran to and fro. Officials, impressed 
 with the sense of their own importance, strutted 
 about and shouted orders to their subordinates. 
 Ladies who had never been inside a Court before 
 came driving up in their carnages. County 
 magnates forsook their usual vocation to be 
 present, and old Squire Henderson, who had 
 not been on the bench for fourteen years partly 
 on account of the gout, and partly on account 
 of the fact that he always quarrelled with his 
 brother magistrates turned up, to the surprise 
 of everyone. 
 
 " Don't believe the girl's guilty," he said, as 
 he stood in the magistrate's room. " I've 
 known her since she was as high as sixpenn'orth 
 of coppers, and a better lass I've never met." 
 
 " Don't you think it would be better to hear 
 the evidence before you judge the case ? " said 
 the Chairman of the Bench. 
 
 " Tut, tut ! " exclaimed the irascible old 
 man, ' ' the evidence is all very well, but a good 
 character is better." 
 
 ' ' Gentleman, it is time we were in the Court.
 
 2 8o ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Squire, lead the way. You are the oldest," the 
 Chairman said. 
 
 " Ay, and the wisest, too," muttered the old 
 man. 
 
 A hush fell on the crowded Court, as the 
 magistrates took their seats. After disposing 
 briefly of one or two cases of drunkenness, they 
 came to the business of the day. From the cell 
 below Gwen was brought up, supported by a 
 woman warder on one side, and a big policeman 
 on the other. She was very white, but a sad 
 smile lit up her countenance as she saw Joe 
 standing near the entrance. As she entered she 
 became suddenly conscious of the crowd, and 
 tried to cover her face with her hands to hide 
 it from view. From the time she was placed 
 in the dock she never lifted her head. A wave 
 of sympathy swept over the Court. Her youth 
 and beauty evidently impressed the spectators. 
 " She's a fine girl," whispered the young 
 lawyer to a friend. 
 
 Lady Wincanton was not in the Court, being 
 one of the witnesses, but Harold was there, 
 standing at the back, twisting the corners of 
 his moustache. Joe had engaged a famous Q.C., 
 instructed by a local lawyer of some repute, 
 to defend her, while the prosecuting Counsel 
 was regarded as a man of considerable ability. 
 After the charge was read, Lady Wincanton was 
 the first witness for the prosecution. Hesitat- 
 ingly, and with apparent unwillingness, she 
 told the story of the loss of the necklace, and 
 of what had previously occurred, and the 
 hesitancy with which she gave her evidence made 
 it the more convincing and weighty. The
 
 THE TRIAL OF INNOCENCY. 28 1 
 
 barrister, seemingly, had to drag the story from 
 her ; and she manifested a degree of nervous- 
 ness, either real or assumed, that surprised 
 those who knew her best. 
 
 * Did you suspect the prisoner when you 
 missed the necklace ? " asked the lawyer. 
 
 'Not at all," she replied. "I could not 
 think of her in connection with the theft, and 
 I refused to believe that she had taken the neck- 
 lace till it was found in her box. And I still hope 
 it may be proved that there was some mistake, 
 and that a satisfactory explanation can be 
 given." 
 
 ' Did you see anything in the conduct of 
 Miss Wentworth which would lead you to 
 suppose that she was inclined to appropriate 
 things that did not belong to her ; in other words, 
 that she might be a kleptomaniac ? " 
 
 " No, certainly not. She has always im- 
 pressed me as singularly transparent and up- 
 right." 
 
 The Counsel for the defence asked a few 
 questions, and then Lady Wincanton left the 
 witness-box, and the detective took her place. 
 He testified to the finding of the jewels as 
 described in the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Went- 
 worth, and the arrest of Gwen in consequence, 
 but said nothing of the conduct of Joe in resisting 
 his purpose, the latter having found out it was 
 an effective way of stopping his mouth by 
 putting money into his pocket. 
 
 A good deal of badgering followed his state- 
 ment by the lawyer for the defence, but it ended 
 in nothing better than the loss of temper on the 
 part of the witness. This was the whole case
 
 282 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 for the prosecution, and then the vicar and 
 several others were put in the box in quick 
 succession to testify to the excellent character 
 of the prisoner. The magistrates, after a few 
 minutes' deliberation, decided to send the case 
 to the Quarter Sessions. The Counsel for the 
 prisoner applied for bail, and after a long and 
 painful pause they declared their decision. 
 
 Considering the gravity of the case they 
 hesitated, but having regard to the excellent 
 character hitherto borne by the defendant, they 
 would accept bail, herself in three hundred 
 pounds, and two sureties of one hundred and 
 fifty each. 
 
 Quickly the Court emptied, and outside eager 
 crowds discussed the case. 
 
 " She's innocent, I stake my word on that," 
 said Squire Henderson to his fellow magistrates, 
 " and the amount of bail is preposterous." 
 
 " Guilty, I should say," replied the Chairman 
 of the Bench. " The case is as clear as day- 
 light. It is not the first time a woman's love 
 of jewellery has led her astray. I'm sorry for 
 the girl and that fine old man. What do you 
 say, Gray ? " 
 
 " I've not the slightest doubt but that she 
 took the necklace. It's a pity, for she seems a 
 fine girl, and, I'm told, sings like a nightingale." 
 
 " Two fools ! " exclaimed the irascible old 
 Squire, as he turned away ; "no more fit to be 
 magistrates than Balaam's travelling com- 
 panion." 
 
 Meantime Rufus and his brother were making 
 the necessary arrangements for the amount of 
 bail and for having Gwen released. When
 
 THE TRIAL OF INNOCENCY. 283 
 
 these were completed, Joe was going out to fetch 
 his trap, when Harold Wincanton touched him. 
 ' Well, sir, what do you want ? " snapped 
 Joe. 
 
 " Pardon me, Wentworth," he said dejectedly, 
 " but if there is any difficulty about the bail 
 for Miss Wentworth, a friend of mine will find 
 the money." 
 
 Joe looked at him for a moment as if he could 
 eat him, and muttered something which did 
 not sound complimentary. " I hope there is 
 no offence," said Harold, "but as 'a friend' 
 you know " 
 
 " Look here, young man," said Joe ; " doubt- 
 less you mean well, but its like pouring hot 
 water on a burnt place. We are not in the 
 mood just now to accept favours from either 
 you or yours. And tell your mother from me 
 that there is one man who believes that she 
 knows all about this black business, and that 
 he will spare neither time nor money to get at 
 the truth of it. And now stand out of the way 
 or I'll not be answerable for the consequences." 
 
 " But " 
 
 The farmer's impatient temper could brook 
 no more delay, so seizing Harold by the collar 
 he flung him' down the steps into the street, 
 where he fell on the pavement. 
 
 Joe took no further notice of him, but soon 
 had driven his trap to the side entrance, and 
 Gwen and Rufus were speedily riding away. 
 Neither spoke till they got out of the town, and 
 then Rufus lifted his head, and observing they 
 were not going towards Summerton, asked his 
 brother where he was taking him.
 
 284 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " Fm driving to the station," said Joe, 
 " Gwen and I are going a journey to London 
 to-night." 
 
 " To London ! " exclaimed Rufus. " What 
 for ? " 
 
 ' ' To get away from busy-bodies whose tongues 
 clack fifteen to the dozen. I know a decent 
 
 woman there who will take care of Gwen till " 
 
 He was going to say the Assizes, but added, 
 " till I go for her again. She'll be as safe as a 
 sovereign in a miser's pocket." 
 
 Gwen, who had sat staring straight before her, 
 but seeing nothing, tried to say something, and 
 then broke down and wept bitterly. 
 
 " Let her cry, Joe," whispered his brother. 
 " It will do her good. A dry sorrow is like a 
 dry spring the worst you can have." 
 
 " But," said Rufus, almost querulously, 
 " why cannot she come home ? The missus is 
 expecting her." 
 
 "Well, it's this way," said Joe. "I axed 
 myself what would I do if I were in Gwen's 
 place. And I thought that in all probability 
 I should return to Summerton out of bravado, 
 knowing that every chuckle-headed gabby would 
 look at me like a spotted leopard, and be peepin' 
 at me round the window blinds, and telling lies 
 about me, the women over the tea cups at home 
 and the men over the ale mugs in the public- 
 houses. And I know exactly how I should feel 
 a kind of fire within, and if I heard anybody so 
 much as namin' me, I should want straightway 
 to knock him down. I should brazin' it out, 
 and go about the farm, and to market, with my 
 chin an inch higher in the air than usual, and
 
 THE TRIAL OF INNOCENCY. 285 
 
 should appear at church more regular than I 
 have ever done in my life, and it would be a 
 bad quarter of an hour for the man who dared 
 so much as hint at pickin' and stealin' in my 
 presence. That is what I should do, Rufe." 
 
 "Well." 
 
 " Well," continued Joe, " knowin' that 
 women are made contrary to men, I guessed 
 that Gwen would do just the opposite, and when 
 I mentioned going home to her in the Court she 
 seemed as comfortable as an earwig when a 
 barrow has gone over it. I guessed how it was, 
 and then suggested this little trip to the Metro- 
 polis, which she jumped at as eager as a hunter 
 takes a gate." 
 
 " The mother will be disappointed," said 
 Rufus doubtfully. " And wunno it appear as 
 if she was shamed and afraid to look her friends 
 in the face ? " 
 
 " Hang the looks. Nine-tenths of the folks 
 believe she took the geegaws, and cannot think 
 worse of her than they do now. The other tenth 
 wouldna believe she took 'em, if the case was 
 twenty times as black as it is. But Queenie shall 
 decide for herself." 
 
 * * Art thee all reel, lass ? " he said, turning 
 round to Gwen, who sat behind. ' Here's 
 dad thinks it would be better for you to go home, 
 and face the folks, and get it over." 
 
 "Oh, no!" she exclaimed, 'I cannot. 
 They believe I am guilty. I know they do. 
 Let me go away, please. I cannot bear it 
 
 now." 
 
 1 ' That settles it." It was curious to see how 
 Joe took everything into his own hands, and
 
 286 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 Rufus submitted feebly without protest. With 
 Joe to decide was to do, or, to put it into his 
 own words, he never took two bites at a cherry. 
 
 " Now, Rufe," he said, as they neared the 
 station, " you will take the mare home, and 
 tell John to give her a hot mash. Drive her 
 with a loose rein she's like a woman you 
 have to make her go your way while she thinks 
 she is taking her own. I'll be back to-morrow 
 or the day after, and if anybody wants to know 
 where Queenie is, tell them that the way to the 
 workhouse is to mind other folk's business." 
 
 The parting with Rufus and Gwen was in- 
 expressibly touching. " Trust in the Lord, 
 my dear," said the old man, " and He shall make 
 thy righteousness to shine as the light, and thy 
 innocence as the noonday. We will pray for 
 you three times a day that you may be brought 
 through this great trial as gold seven times 
 purified." 
 
 " Ay, and while Rufe is prayin' I'll be 
 watchin'," said the irrepressible Joe. ' ' Depend 
 on it, my dear, all that money and brains can 
 do shall be done to clear your character. I'll 
 sell the last hoof and horseshoe I have to get 
 at the bottom of this. So keep your pecker 
 up, and never say die." 
 
 And for five weeks Gwen lived at Clapham, 
 in the house of Widow Green an old friend of 
 her uncle's and, as he said, " as kind as they 
 are made, and as sensible as a woman can be 
 who has been married once, and would like to 
 be married again." 
 
 She tried to forget her trouble in sedulously 
 training her voice, Joe having insisted that she
 
 THE TRIAL OF INNOCENCY. 287 
 
 should take the opportunity of studying under 
 a noted Professor, who lived in the neighbour- 
 hood. 
 
 * ' She'll be as reet as a sparrow in a haystack," 
 he reported to Rufus. " I've told that singing 
 chap to work her hard, and he looked the sort 
 of fellow to do it. One of those foreigners with 
 long hair and lantern jaws, who seem to think 
 God Almighty made him to spend all his days 
 howling like cats on a roof at neet, and everybody 
 else to do nothin' but listen." 
 
 " She'll not feel like singin' much, poor lass," 
 answered Rufus. " I guess you've wasted your 
 money." 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense," snapped Joe. " An 
 empty mill soon grinds the stones away. If 
 she'd nothin' to do but twist her thumbs, I 
 think she'd mope herself to death. She was 
 quite pert when I left her, and said I was to tell 
 you she was sure it would all come reet in the 
 end." 
 
 " Bless her ! " ejaculated Rufus. " To think 
 that this trouble should have come to her." 
 
 " Why," said Joe, " I reckon trouble is like 
 smut in wheat it often takes the finest ears 
 first. But now, what's to be done ? We munno 
 sit still till the Assizes come. We mun be up 
 and doing." 
 
 "I see nothin' we can do but pray that the 
 Lord will defend the innocent," said his brother. 
 
 " Praying's very well, as far as it goes," said 
 Joe, ' ' but there are times when a bit o' common 
 sense is wurth a bushel of religion." 
 
 " Hush ! " said Rufus. ' You munno talk 
 like that ! "
 
 288 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " Well," said Joe, " you do the prayin' and 
 I'll do the workin'. My belief is that young 
 Wincanton knows somethin' about this business. 
 I watched his face in the Court, and it changed 
 as often as a weathercock on a windy day. I 
 did not tell you he offered to stand bail for 
 Gwen." 
 
 " Did he ? " asked Rufus. " What for ? " 
 
 " Dunno 'cept it was his conscience was 
 prickin' him. Anyhow he's our best chance at 
 present, and we must get out of him what he 
 knows, by hook or crook." 
 
 " What are we to do, then ? " 
 
 1 'You! Nothin'," rejoined Joe. "Go on 
 wi' your prayin' and leave him to me. I always 
 thought he was a wastrel, and I'm beginning to 
 think he's a scoundrel as well." 
 
 " Dunno do anything wrong, even to reet 
 the innocent," said Rufus. " A good cause 
 dunno need " 
 
 *' I knaw," said Joe, shrugging his shoulders. 
 * * You dunno believe in takin' the devil's powder 
 to fire God's cannons wi'. I'm not particular 
 so as I hit the game I shoot at." 
 
 " That is my fear," said Rufus. " I wudno' 
 have Gwen's case sullied by unrighteous 
 methods." 
 
 For a whole week Joe lay in wait in all the 
 likely places he knew of to catch Harold Win- 
 canton, but was unsuccessful. Then he learned, 
 through bribing one of the servants, that he 
 had had a quarrel with his mother on the night 
 of the trial, and had been heard to say he would 
 go to London and never return any more. He 
 had ordered the carriage at once to take him to
 
 THE TRIAL OF INNOCENCY. 289 
 
 the station, and had not been seen since. This 
 news greatly disconcerted the farmer, and he 
 went home feeling the circumstances were 
 against him. 
 
 " Rufe talks about Providence," he said, 
 " but seems to me that Providence is generally 
 on the side o' the raskils."
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 LOVE IN THE MIRE. 
 
 " A beautiful woman is a picture which drives all beholders 
 nobly mad." EMERSON. 
 
 " There is a gentleman to see you, miss." 
 
 ' ' To see me ! " exclaimed Gwen, turning in 
 surprise from the piano her uncle's thoughtful 
 kindness had hired for her. " There must be 
 some mistake unless it's dad." 
 
 " Excuse me, Miss Wentworth, intruding 
 upon you," said Harold Wincanton, stepping 
 out of the lobby, " but may I see you alone for 
 a few moments ? My business is of the greatest 
 importance, or I would not venture to trouble 
 you." 
 
 He looked very worn and haggard, and a ray 
 of pity touched her heart as she looked at his 
 thin, drawn face. For a second she hesitated, 
 and then said, * ' Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Green ; 
 I will call you if I need you." 
 
 Having shut the door, she offered Harold a 
 seat, upon which he threw himself carelessly, 
 and toyed nervously with his watch chain. 
 
 " How did you find me ? " she said. " I 
 have told nobody where I am staying." 
 
 He laughed harshly. ' ' Ah, that is my secret. 
 But it has cost me time and money, and I had 
 nearly given up in despair." 
 
 ( ' Why should you trouble ? " she asked.
 
 LOVE IN THE MIRE. 29 i 
 
 ' Because," he answered fiercely, " I could 
 not help it. Miss Wentworth, I have come to 
 ask you once more to be my wife. I cannot live 
 without you." 
 
 "That is all nonsense," said Gwen. " No- 
 body knows better than you that what was 
 improbable before is impossible now. To talk 
 to a girl situated as I am about marriage is to 
 insult her." 
 
 ' ' Listen to me ! " he cried. ' ' I know what 
 you are going to say, but don't say it at least, 
 not yet. I have thought this matter over night 
 and day, and I have come to make a proposition. 
 God knows I would have given all I possess to 
 have saved you from what has happened. I 
 have begged of my mother to withdraw from 
 the case, but she declares that is impossible, 
 as the Crown has taken it up. In all probability 
 you will be condemned. There is but one way 
 to save you, and that is to fly till the matter 
 has blown over. I have arranged everything 
 disguises, getting away, ship, everything. I 
 have a friend in Algiers, who has written asking 
 me to join him in a trip into the interior. Why 
 not go with me ? We can be married on Thurs- 
 day by special licence, and be there before this 
 wretched trial comes on. I know, of course, 
 your bail will be forfeited, but we can make it 
 up to your uncle and father afterwards. Take 
 a few minutes to consider my offer before you 
 reply." 
 
 "I do not need, Mr. Wincanton. To go 
 away would be to acknowledge myself guilty of 
 a crime I never committed." 
 "My dear Miss Wentworth, innocent or
 
 292 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 guilty, I feel sure the verdict will go against you. 
 I have consulted two of the most eminent 
 barristers in London, and both declare that on 
 the evidence you have not a ghost of a chance. 
 I happen to know that is the opinion of Sir 
 Charles Elliott, who defended you. And to 
 think of you going to jail for months, perhaps 
 years, maddens me. I cannot bear the thought 
 of it." 
 
 " I thank you, sir," she replied, " for your 
 consideration and sympathy, but I could not 
 marry any man simply because I had been 
 unfortunate enough to excite his pity. Besides, 
 what would your mother say if you married a 
 girl who ran away in order to escape imprison- 
 ment ? " 
 
 " I have thought of all that," he cried im- 
 patiently. " But what does it matter ? You 
 and I will be far away and happy, and by the 
 time we come back if we ever do come back 
 the whole affair will be forgotten." 
 
 " Far away we might be, but we should not 
 be happy. Do you think you could long respect 
 a wife whom in your soul you believed to be a 
 thief ? And could I look up and reverence a 
 husband whom I knew in his inmost heart 
 despised me ? " 
 
 " I do not believe anything of the kind," re- 
 joined Harold. " Indeed I KNOW that you did 
 not steal those accursed pearls, which I heartily 
 wish were at the bottom of the sea." 
 
 There was something in his tones which im- 
 pressed Gwen, and she eagerly put the question, 
 " Mr. Wincanton, do you know who put the 
 necklace into my box ? For God's sake tell
 
 LOVE IN THE MIRE. 293 
 
 me if you do " and she clutched hold of the 
 front of his coat and looked into his eyes appeal- 
 ingly. 
 
 He looked down for a moment and then said, 
 " Please do not ask me. I have said too much 
 already." 
 
 " But I must ask you," she cried, " Do you 
 not see that my whole future depends upon my 
 clearing my character of this wicked charge ? " 
 
 He shook his head, and then said slowly, " I 
 cannot say more. But if you will accept my 
 offer, I pledge you my word, as a gentleman, 
 that all I can do shall be done to remove this 
 stain upon your reputation." 
 
 " Mr. Wincanton," she said, " you declared 
 just now that you loved me. If there is one jot 
 of truth in your statement, let me put it to the 
 test. Tell me all you know." 
 
 " Not unless you first promise to be my wife." 
 
 11 You do not understand. I cannot promise 
 under present conditions." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because because I cannot." 
 
 11 That is a woman's reason," he replied. 
 Then, for the first time during the interview, 
 he made a mistake. " Miss Wentworth," he 
 said, "it is either marriage or imprisonment 
 there is no other alternative " ; and something 
 like a gleam of triumph shot from his eyes. 
 
 Gwen drew herself up as if she had been hit in 
 the face. " You put it very badly, sir," she 
 said. " But you seem to have overlooked the 
 one fact that I am innocent, and there is always 
 the hope that those who put the pearls into my 
 box may confess the wrong they have done me."
 
 294 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, Miss Wentworth, don't 
 trust to that, for I tell you it is impossible in this 
 case." 
 
 " Mr. Wincanton," she said, after a pause, 
 ' ' you know who put the necklace in my box ! " 
 
 " And if I do, what then ? " asked Harold. 
 
 " Why, you ought at once to say so, and free 
 me from this odious charge. I am positive you 
 could if you would." 
 
 " I have made you an offer," he replied 
 sullenly. <l That way out is the only one." 
 
 ' ' Oh, you are hard ! " she cried, the tears 
 filling her beautiful eyes. " How can I marry, 
 so long as the world, including your own friends, 
 believes me to be a thief ? Oh, do help me ! " 
 she cried imploringly, as^she* sank [on her knees 
 at his feet. 
 
 Harold was deeply moved, and he gently lifted 
 her up and placed her on the sofa, and, after a 
 great struggle with himself, said : 
 
 11 Miss Wentworth, I came to-day to offer 
 you the only terms that seemed to me possible. 
 If you only knew if I could only tell you all 
 you would understand that it is I who need pity. 
 For the last few weeks I have been living in hell. 
 Listen," he continued, as Gwen moved as if 
 to interrupt him. " If you will give me a 
 promise to be my wife after the trial is over, I 
 pledge you my honour that I will bring forward 
 such evidence as will establish your innocence ; 
 and let me add in making this pledge I know it 
 will cost me much I dare not say more."' 
 
 Gwen was silent. She felt how much depended 
 on her answer. She did not love Harold, she 
 never could love him, and to marry him was
 
 LOVE IN THE MIRE. 295 
 
 to be untrue to the deepest convictions of her 
 soul. On the other hand, she shrank from the 
 possibility of being condemned on a charge of 
 which she was guiltless. The word * ' jail " 
 sent a thrill of horror through her. She felt if 
 ever the prison taint came upon her she should 
 die of very shame. 
 
 Through the long hours of the night she had 
 lain awake thinking of what it might mean, until 
 she could have screamed in sheer terror. At 
 other times she sobbed herself to sleep. Here 
 was a way out. For her own sake and the sake 
 of those she loved, ought she not to take it ? 
 At length she spoke : 
 
 1 ' I cannot see my way clear. You must give 
 me time to think it over." 
 
 " I will come to-morrow for my answer," he 
 cried eagerly, feeling assured that he had suc- 
 ceeded. 
 
 "No, I will write," she replied. "Leave 
 me your address, and you shall know my decision 
 by to-morrow evening at the latest." 
 
 He tore a leaf out of his pocket book and, 
 hastily scribbling his address, handed it to her ; 
 and then, taking a formal leave, opened the door 
 and went out. But he had barely got fifty yards 
 from the cottage ere he returned. 
 
 " Miss Wentworth," he said, " please pardon 
 me, but may I request one other favour from 
 you ? It is this that, whatever may come of 
 my proposal, you will not mention either my 
 visit or the purpose of it to anyone without my 
 permission. Believe me that to do so would 
 increase my difficulties enormously, and might 
 ruin my plans altogether."
 
 296 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " I promise, certainly. Let your mind be 
 at rest. You may trust me." 
 
 For many hours that night Gwen tossed on 
 her pillow, trying to determine on the right 
 course of action. The more she thought of 
 marriage with Harold Wincanton the more she 
 shrank from it, and yet she was convinced that he 
 held the clue to the mystery that perplexed her. 
 
 Could Lady Wincanton have put the necklace 
 in her box ? She did not see how she could. 
 She had kept the trunk locked all the time she 
 was at the Hall, and the key was in her pocket. 
 At night her bedroom door had also been locked, 
 so that the keys could not have been abstracted 
 while she slept. The same difficulty, of course, 
 applied to Harold, and to any of the servants. 
 A thousand times she pondered over the problem, 
 and could find no solution. And yet somebody 
 must have put them there deliberately and 
 wilfully for the purpose of damaging her character. 
 So far as she knew, she had not a single enemy 
 in the world. Why should anyone wish to 
 harm her ? And for the hundredth time she 
 concluded that the only person who had the 
 slightest reason for trying to injure her was 
 Lady Wincanton. 
 
 A flood of light had been thrown on the 
 problem by Harold's strange conduct and words 
 in the interview. He was determined at all 
 costs to force her into acceptance of marriage, 
 and a deep sense of loathing took possession^of 
 her in consequence. The man who could des- 
 cend to such depths of low trickery should never 
 call her wife. And, having settled it thus, she 
 fell asleep.
 
 LOVE IN THE MIRE. 297 
 
 Next morning she wrote the fateful letter and 
 gave it to Mrs. Green, with instructions that 
 if the gentleman who called before came again 
 she would on no account see him. But Harold 
 did not come again to disturb her, nor anyone 
 else, until Joe appeared to take her to the 
 Assizes. 
 
 ' ' Keep your pecker up, lass," he kept saying. 
 " You've the cleverest lawyers in London to 
 defend you, and dad's certain you'll pull through 
 all reet. Rufe's been putting in full time 
 praying, and says that he's sure you'll come off 
 with flying colours." 
 
 " Poor dad ! " said Gwen, the tears filling 
 her eyes. " How is he ? " 
 
 "He is wonderful," replied Joe. " He says 
 the devil has been at him more than usual since 
 you've been away. If so, temptation seems to 
 agree with him, for he looks fresher than he did 
 at forty, and fatter than I've ever seen him. 
 There are foaks that thrive on trouble, and I 
 think Rufe is one."
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 THE BLINDING OF JUSTICE. 
 
 " God's ways seem dark, but soon or late 
 They touch the shining hills of day ; 
 The evil cannot brook delay, 
 The good can well afford to wait." 
 
 WHITTIER. 
 
 IT was over at last. The long, weary trial 
 of nine hours, the anxious waiting for the verdict, 
 and the solemn and decisive moment when the 
 judge called upon the prisoner, who had been 
 mercifully provided with a seat, to stand up 
 and receive sentence. And when he uttered 
 the fateful words " Two years' penal ser- 
 vitude " it fell like the chill of death on the 
 Court. 
 
 The person most concerned simply bowed 
 her head, and then left the dock in charge of 
 two warders. Rufus sat like one suddenly 
 turned to stone, and did not move until his wife 
 touched his elbow, and then, speechless, departed 
 from the Court. Lady Wincanton gave one 
 look across at the prisoner, a gleam of triumph 
 in her cold steely eyes, then she dropped her 
 veil and turned to speak to her son. But, 
 although he had been by her side a moment 
 before, he had disappeared, and at that moment 
 was mounting his horse to ride away, he knew 
 not where, nor cared whither.
 
 THE BLINDING OF JUSTICE. 299 
 
 Joe Wentworth rapped out an oath, and he 
 also hurried away, and was heard to vow ven- 
 geance on somebody, or everybody, concerned. 
 
 There had been a grievous miscarriage of 
 justice, and yet on the evidence it was not easy 
 to see how the jury could have brought in any 
 other verdict than the one they did ; but they 
 were astonished that their strong recommenda- 
 tion to mercy did not receive a more liberal 
 interpretation by the grim old judge, who was 
 notorious for his long sentences. 
 
 The blow fell heavily on the heart of Rufus. 
 As he sat that night vainly trying to read through 
 the usual portion of Scripture for family worship 
 his tears be-dimmed his spectacles. He felt that 
 God had forsaken him. Sobs choked his utter- 
 ance, and he could not proceed. His wife, 
 whom he had always said " was like religion, 
 best in adversity," tenderly took and finished 
 the reading. And then, as they knelt together, 
 she, for the first time in their married life, led 
 the prayers. Her petition was simple, but it 
 broke poor Rufus completely up, until sobs, 
 which were themselves prayers shook his whole 
 frame. She prayed " that God would be with 
 their dear one in the lonely cell, and comfort 
 her, and bring her innocence forth in the light 
 of day, that all men might know that He was 
 a God that heard and answered prayer." And 
 what she was to Rufus in those dark days none 
 knew but himself. Every want was provided 
 for, every need met. She removed everything 
 that might painfully remind him of Gwen, and 
 invented a thousand little things for him to do 
 so that he might not sit and brood. And the
 
 3 oo ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 villagers to a man respected their sorrow, and 
 did what they could to make them feel that 
 they sympathised with them. Sir John Crook- 
 worth and his good wife were indefatigable in 
 their kindness, the former starting a petition 
 to the Home Secretary to get the sentence 
 reduced, and got it signed by all the county 
 magnates. But it was Bedford Bird who was 
 the almost constant comforter and companion of 
 the grief-stricken man. Forsaking his book 
 and study, he spent a large portion of his time 
 in comforting]' his Nonconformist brother. In- 
 venting all sorts of excuses he called and took 
 Rufus out now to visit a sick child, now to 
 give his opinion about a new stock of rose trees, 
 and again to comfort somebody else who was 
 in trouble. At first Rufus talked but little, 
 but at length he opened out his heart. 
 
 " The Lord has brought me to Marah, sir, 
 the place where all the waters are bitter," he 
 said one day. 
 
 " Yes," said the vicar, " but Marah was 
 by no means the last and only place on the 
 journey, Brother Wentworth." 
 
 " I would not have minded if the trouble 
 had come upon me personally, but it is because 
 it has smitten my little girl that it is so hard 
 to bear." 
 
 " I suppose," rejoined the vicar, " if we 
 could choose our own trouble, that not one of 
 us would take just that particular kind that 
 Providence sends us. And yet it is the best. 
 That reminds me that at length Lady Wincanton 
 has determined to evict the Bremners from 
 their holding. I had the old gipsy mother along
 
 THE BLINDING OF JUSTICE. 301 
 
 yesterday, and she is fearful lest her sons may 
 do something desperate. I have written to the 
 agent protesting against the eviction, but I 
 suppose it will have but little effect. The poor 
 old body was heartsore at the thought of having 
 to find a new home at her time of life." 
 
 " Sir," said Rufus, " the law thatj>ives the 
 power to any landlord to evict a tenant under 
 such circumstances is to blame. Old Bremner 
 cleared the land, which was full of bracken and 
 not worth twopence, and built the house, and 
 Lord Forester did not interfere ; and now, 
 after twenty years, when it is becoming of value, 
 the family is to be shown the door. It is a great 
 iniquity." 
 
 " I quite agree," replied the vicar, (( and I 
 have said so in my letter ; but Lady Wincanton 
 is a very determined woman, and neither God's 
 law, nor man's protest, will be of much use. 
 Meantime, I am trying to arrange with Isaacs, 
 at Summerton Common, to let the family have 
 that cottage and three acres of his land if they 
 are turned out, and I want you to go and help 
 me to negotiate the matter." 
 
 " I see," said Rufus, " I've always under- 
 stood that some poisons are antidotes to others, 
 and you want me to take a dose of somebody 
 else's trouble to cure my own. Well, I'll go. 
 Sitting in the house and moping wonno' do 
 Gwen any good, poor lass." 
 
 But the good vicar had a more difficult case 
 on his hands than that of Rufus in consequence 
 of the trouble, and that was his brother Joe. 
 The unhappy ending of the trial so wrought on 
 his mind, that, to use his own expression, " he
 
 302 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 went all to pieces." That night, for the first 
 time for many years, he returned home drunk. 
 He was seen spurring through Summerton at 
 eleven o'clock, his horse's sides flecked with 
 foam, at a rate that no sober man would ride, 
 and hanging helplessly to the neck of his steed. 
 He had drunk himself mad wanted to fight 
 everybody in the public-house, and was heard 
 repeatedly to swear that he would seek out 
 young Wincanton, who was at the bottom of 
 the trouble, and shoot him like a dog. This 
 was thought to be but the idle swagger of a 
 drunken man, and allowed to pass with but 
 slight notice. He reached home safely, strange 
 to say, and for a week was compelled to keep 
 his bed. Then he got up and flew to the drink 
 again. Every day he rode to Whitehurst and 
 got tipsy, sometimes returning at night and 
 sometimes not. He was a haggard, thin figure 
 when the vicar found him one day in the lowest 
 public-house in Whitehurst. 
 
 He was almost in a condition of collapse, but 
 had lost none of his usual acidity of speech. 
 " Come to look after the lost sheep ? " he 
 exclaimed. "It is time, for the mutton is 
 nearly all gone and the fleece is in danger." 
 
 " I am sorry, sir, to find you here," replied 
 the vicar. " This is no place for you." 
 
 " If it is fit for you, it is fit for me," replied 
 Joe. " What will you take ? I'm afraid I 
 cannot recommend the whisky ; but the ale is 
 sound, and plenty of body in it. Grand stuff 
 to make sermons on, I should think." 
 
 " Thank you, I don't take intoxicants, except 
 as a medicine."
 
 THE BLINDING OF JUSTICE. 303 
 
 11 Ah/! " laughed Joe, " I've found you out. 
 I never knew a man who took it as medicine 
 but what had some complaint every day, and 
 sometimes three or four different kinds in one 
 day. There binna no complaint to which the 
 human flesh is heir, but the man has it quick 
 and often who keeps a brandy bottle handy for 
 medicinal purposes. What is your ailment 
 this morning ? " 
 
 11 Mr. Wentworth," replied the vicar, "I 
 have not tasted alcohol for six years, and I hope 
 it will be another six before I need any. I simply 
 did not want to convey the impression I was 
 exercising an amount of self-denial, which I am 
 not by saying I was a teetotaler. But Mr. 
 Wentworth, allow me to ask you one question : 
 ' When you are hunting, and your horse gets a 
 fall in taking a fence, what do you do ? ' 
 
 " Help it up again, if I've managed to escape 
 without broken bones," answered Joe. 
 
 " That is just what I've come to do in your 
 case, Mr. Wentworth. For your own sake and 
 the sake of your brother, I pray you come along 
 with me." 
 
 ' ' Ah ! poor Rufe," said Joe, ' ' how does he 
 bear up ? " 
 
 " As a Christian man should," replied the 
 vicar. " He is an example to all of us of trust- 
 ful and patient submission to the Divine will." 
 
 " And what good is that ? " exclaimed Joe. 
 " Seems to me this is a case for knocking some- 
 body down rather than submission ; and Gad, 
 I'll do it yet. There is somebody got to foot 
 this bill, and I'll see he does it, too. For every 
 day that girl is in jail he shall pay the price
 
 304 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 when I lay my hands on him. The mean 
 scamp, I'll " 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth," the vicar interrupted, 
 "it is my duty to tell you such language is 
 wicked. We must leave vengeance to God." 
 
 " God ! " exclaimed Joe. " God is dead, or 
 asleep." 
 
 " Hush, sir," said the vicar sternly. " It 
 is not for mortal man to talk thus about his 
 Maker. There is some good behind this trouble, 
 which seems to you and me nothing but evil." 
 
 " It's easy to talk," said Joe, " but, in the 
 meantime, the finest lass in the county is havin' 
 the soul taken out of her in Glanmore jail. I 
 tell you, a hundred and fifty parsons and the 
 whole bench of bishops could not make me 
 believe that there is any sense or reason in that." 
 
 " I will not try, Mr. Wentworth, for in your 
 present condition of mind it would be useless. 
 But what I wish to ask you is this, Do you 
 imagine it would lighten Miss Gwen's burden 
 if she knew that you were acting in this foolish 
 manner ? Do you not think it would rather 
 intensify her trouble, already, surely, big enough ? 
 Then I want you to think of your brother, whom, 
 I am glad to say, has not yet heard of your 
 breakdown, and is wondering why you do 
 not call." 
 
 The Vicar had at length struck the right note. 
 Joe looked up for a moment, and then said : 
 * ' Sir, you are a good man, and I beg your pardon 
 for being rude just now. But I'm pretty sick 
 of life. It seems to me the devil has got the 
 whip-hand in the world, and that is all about it." 
 
 " We will not discuss that just now," replied
 
 THE BLINDING OF JUSTICE. 305 
 
 the vicar. " Suppose you drive home with me 
 and have a cup of tea, and then call to see your 
 brother." 
 
 "Not I," returned Joe, " I wouldna see Rufe 
 for five hundred pounds. I couldna stand it, 
 and that's a fact. I'd rather have a kick from 
 a horse than he should see I'd been on the 
 booze." 
 
 " All right, come and have some tea with 
 me, anyhow." 
 
 "No," said Joe. "I'm not fit for decent 
 company, just now. I've a hundred and forty 
 devils about me somewhere. But I'll tell 
 you what I'll do. I'll go home and sleep 
 on what you've said." 
 
 :' " Thank you, sir," replied Bird. " And I'll 
 call and see you in the morning. I have my 
 gig here. Will you ride as far as Summerton ? " 
 
 ' ' No ; my horse is at the ' White Lion.' 
 Ta-ta ! " 
 
 Just then the clattering of a horse's hoofs 
 was heard outside, and for a moment the figure of 
 a horseman darkened the little lozenged-paned 
 window of the public-house. The next moment 
 the farmer had jumped over the table, rushed 
 bare-headed from the house, and was running 
 down the street. The astonished vicar followed 
 to see Joe disappear round the corner of the 
 street as fast as his legs could carry him. Hurry- 
 ing thither, he could not discern either the 
 farmer or the horseman, whom he suspected 
 was Harold Wincanton. Fearingfmischief would 
 be done, he went to the stable, to find that Joe 
 had secured his horse, thrown|the ostler half-a- 
 crown, and mounted and ridden away, in the 
 
 u
 
 3o6 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 graphic language of that worthy, * ' like a whirl- 
 wind in a hurry." 
 
 His worst fears were confirmed, when he was 
 told that the ostler had seen the horse of Harold 
 Wincanton flying past the "White Lion" a 
 few minutes before Joe had entered breathlessly 
 demanding his horse at once. Hasting to the 
 inn, where his own horse was stabled, he ordered 
 it to be yoked at once, and followed as quickly 
 as possible along the Summerton road, feeling 
 a strange, almost suffocating sense of appre- 
 hension. By this time the night had fallen. 
 His horse, accustomed to jog along at its on 
 pace, was surprised to feel the whip sharply 
 applied to his flanks, and broke into a lively 
 gallop, which lasted about forty yards, and then 
 he fell back into his usual pace. Too fat to 
 hurry, he received every further admonition to 
 quicken his pace with a whisk of his tail and 
 a philosophical nod of his head, and kept trotting 
 along without further effort to demonstrate 
 that he had once been known as one of " Joe 
 Wentworth's goers," Idleness and good living 
 had made him a degenerate, and nothing could 
 induce him to exert himself beyond the normal 
 speed. 
 
 Before the vicar had proceeded far it was 
 quite dark, and all the hope he had entertained 
 of overtaking Joe was gone. But he determined 
 to drive straight to the farm before he went 
 home, for he felt he could not rest until he 
 knew all was right. And so, leaving Summerton 
 to the right, he took a short cut to the farm. 
 On arriving here he was told by the housekeeper 
 that her master had not yet arrived at home.
 
 THE BLINDING OF JUSTICE. 307 
 
 Full of fears on receiving this information, 
 he started homewards, when, nearing the home- 
 stead of the Bremners, whom he suddenly 
 remembered had been evicted the day before 
 at Lady Wincanton's order, he saw two or three 
 lights bobbing up and down in the most un- 
 accountable manner. When he arrived at the 
 spot, he observed three or four farm labourers 
 with lanterns, and two women gazing helplessly 
 down at some object lying by the wayside." 
 
 " Here's the vicar," he heard one exclaim in 
 relieved tones. 
 
 " What is it, men ? " he asked. " What is 
 the matter ? " 
 
 "It is young Mr. Wincanton, sir. We fear 
 he is dead. Gregory found him lyin' on the 
 road, a quarter of an hour gone, and he 
 fetched us, sir. His horse was grazing by the 
 wayside." 
 
 The vicar got down from his gig and, taking 
 a lantern from one of the men, lifted it until its 
 light fell upon the prostrate figure lying in the 
 grass. A deathly hue had settled upon the 
 countenance, and the grass was dyed with 
 blood. One of the men had taken his jacket 
 off and rolled it up, making a rough pillow 
 for his head, while a woman was seeking to 
 stanch the blood which flowed from a wound in 
 his neck. 
 
 " How did it happen ? " asked the vicar. 
 " Does anybody know ? " 
 
 ' ' No, sir ; but Gregory says * he heard 
 two shots, and a cry like somebody hurt.' When 
 he came up he found the young master lying 
 in the road, and his hoss by his side."
 
 308 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " Did you see or hear anybody else ? " asked 
 the vicar, turning to the man called Gregory. 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " No other horseman ? Be careful, for a 
 good deal depends on what you say." 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " How far were you from the place when the 
 shots were fired ? " 
 
 " Only round the next bend of the road, sir. 
 I was goin* home, and just thinkin' about my 
 supper of toasted cheese, when I heard the shots. 
 One two, quick after each other, and then a 
 cry. I wondered what it could be, but put 
 it down to poachers ; and, thinking it was no 
 business of mine, I kept on till I sees the shadow 
 of a hoss, and nearly tumbled over the young 
 master there." 
 
 " If there had been another man on horseback 
 you would have heard him, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Sure," said Gregory. But there wonna 
 one. It's some of the poacher chaps, 'ats' done 
 
 it." 
 
 The vicar knelt down beside the prostrate 
 figure and put his hand over the heart. He 
 thought he felt a slight fluttering, but was not 
 sure. 
 
 " Well, men," he cried, " it is no use standing 
 here. We must carry him to the nearest cottage. 
 Let me see, that is yours, Foulkes. Then some- 
 one must take my trap and drive to Summerton 
 for Dr. Gilmour. Every moment is precious." 
 
 " We have sent for him, sir. My Joe you 
 know him that's in the choir he just caught 
 the hoss and rode like blue blazes, and we are 
 expectin' the doctor every minute."
 
 THE BLINDING OF JUSTICE. 309 
 
 " You have done well, men, and Joe is a fine 
 lad. Now, we will lift him into the gig if we 
 can, and take him home." 
 
 But just then the clattering of a horse's hoofs 
 were heard along the road, and in a few minutes 
 the doctor, who had not waited for his own 
 horse, but had jumped on Briton's back, was 
 in their midst with characteristic promptitude. 
 Without waiting to ask questions he fell on his 
 knees by the side of the wounded man. Looking 
 at the wound in the neck for a second, he dis- 
 missed that at once as not being sufficiently 
 serious to be mortal and then turned the pros- 
 trate form over. Then he discovered that 
 Harold's coat was saturated with blood, and 
 there was a wound in his side. The doctor 
 shook his head ominously, and said to the vicar, 
 ' ' I fear it is too late. If I had been here earlier 
 I might have saved him. We must get him 
 home at once. You have your conveyance here. 
 That is well. Somebody had better ride forward 
 on the horse and prepare his mother." 
 
 " I will go myself," replied the vicar. " If 
 I understand you, life is not quite extinct ? " 
 
 " No, but as near as may be. If he was at 
 home he might have one chance in a thousand. 
 As it is well, I do not think it is worth a brass 
 farthing. But are you a horseman ? The brute 
 has a mouth like iron." 
 
 " I can manage to sit in the saddle without 
 falling out," rejoined the vicar. 
 
 " This seems to have been a black business," 
 said the doctor. 
 
 " Yes, it is, I fear, much worse than ever it 
 appears. But I will go forward and break
 
 3io ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 the news to Lady Wincanton. May God pity 
 her." 
 
 The vicar rode forward into the night, his 
 head bowed, thinking over what had happened. 
 He had not the slightest doubt that Joe Went- 
 worth had carried out his threat, and shot the 
 young man in his mad anger. How could he 
 break the news to the widowed mother ? And 
 how tell Rufus Wentworth all he knew ? 
 
 Briton fairly flew with him, and soon he was 
 knocking at the Hall door. A servant quickly 
 answered, and he sent in a request to see Lady 
 Wincanton on important business. 
 
 The man hesitated, and then said, " I am 
 very sorry, sir, my lady has given orders if you 
 called at any time she was not at home to 
 you." 
 
 " But I must see her to-night. It is a matter 
 of life and death. Please tell her I am here." 
 
 The man bowed and hurried out. He found 
 his mistress in the drawing-room, and delivered 
 his message. 
 
 ' ' Matthews ! " she exclaimed, ' ' you have 
 my orders. I will not see that man. He lectures 
 me as if I were a schoolgirl. Tell him that any 
 business he has with me must be transacted 
 through my agent." 
 
 But just at that moment the tall, gaunt form 
 of the vicar appeared in the doorway. 
 
 " Lady Wincanton," he said, " I did not need 
 the assurance of a servant that my presence 
 
 here is distasteful to you, but there are occasions 
 ?> 
 
 " I know of no occasion, sir," she broke in, 
 " which can possibly justify an intrusion like
 
 THE BLINDING OF JUSTICE. 311 
 
 this on a lady's privacy. Matthews, show the 
 vicar of Summerton out." 
 
 " I have come, Lady Wincanton," he said, 
 " to discharge a very sad and distasteful duty, 
 as distasteful to myself as it will be distressing 
 for you. Your son " 
 
 " Oh I know," she cried scornfully. " In 
 that scandal-mongering village of Summerton 
 there are a hundred tales abroad about my son, 
 spread by malicious tongues that can never 
 speak the truth about their betters. I have 
 no doubt you deem it your duty to listen to any 
 and every busybody who invents a defamatory 
 report against my boy, and regard yourself as 
 the censor of public morals. But you can spare 
 yourself any such fruitless errand in future, for 
 I do not regard you as having any authority, 
 either to counsel me or correct Master Harold ; 
 so I wish you ' Good-night, sir.' ' 
 
 She was sweeping disdainfully past him to 
 the door, but his pale face and earnest tones 
 arrested her on the threshold, as he cried : 
 " Lady Wincanton, for heaven's sake listen to 
 me for one moment. This is no time for dis- 
 putations. Your son is being carried home 
 not dead, I hope, but seriously injured. I have 
 ridden forward to prepare you for his coming. 
 I am sorry to be the bearer of such evil tidings, 
 and doubly sorry to be compelled to break it to 
 you in this abrupt manner." 
 
 ' ' What ! " she exclaimed, ' ' my boy in- 
 jured ? How ? When ? By whom ? 
 
 " These are questions I cannot answer yet," 
 said the vicar sadly. " He has been shot in the 
 neck and side, and was found lying on the
 
 312 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 i 
 
 Summerton road by a labourer returning from 
 work, and they are bringing him home in the 
 trap. May I venture, my dear Lady Wincanton, 
 to hope that you will summon up all your 
 strength and courage to meet what cannot fail 
 to be a very painful trial ? I think I hear the 
 sound of wheels. For your son's sake, be 
 brave." 
 
 During this address she became very white, 
 and her fingers tightened round the knob of the 
 door. Then she said, " You do not need to 
 tell me who has done it. I know ; it is the 
 uncle of that girl who is in prison for stealing. 
 But I swear if any wrong has happened to my 
 boy I will be avenged, if I spend my every 
 farthing in obtaining justice." 
 
 11 Madam," replied the vicar, " this is no 
 time to speak of vengeance. I fear we have 
 had too much of that already. We must hope 
 and pray for the best." 
 
 Just then four men entered the Hall, bearing 
 tenderly the wounded man. As they laid him 
 on the sofa for the first time he opened his eyes, 
 and, seeing his mother, smiled feebly. Lady 
 Wincanton flung herself upon him with the cry, 
 " Oh ! Harold ! My boy ! My boy ! "
 
 HE OBSERVED THREE OR FOUR FARM LABOURERS WITH 
 LANTERNS. 
 
 Chap. 27.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 THE HAND OF THE POLICE. 
 
 " Innocence shall make false accusation blush, 
 And tyranny tremble at patience." SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 JOE WENTWORTH was awakened the next 
 morning by someone roughly shaking him. 
 On opening his eyes he was astonished to find 
 two constables in his room, one of whom he 
 recognised as the chief of police at Whitehurst. 
 
 "Well, Roberts," he said, "what do you 
 want ? " 
 
 " You, Mister Wentworth," he replied. " I 
 am here to arrest you for shooting Harold Win- 
 canton at nine o'clock last night on Summerton 
 Road, and it is my duty to inform you that 
 anything you say now will be used against you 
 at your trial." 
 
 "That's all right," replied Joe. "Shot is 
 he ? Well, I didna do it, that's the first thing ; 
 the second is, he deserved it ; the third is that 
 whoever has done it has saved the hangman 
 a job." 
 
 " Farmer," replied the officer kindly, for Joe 
 was a general favourite, " if I were you I would 
 not talk. It isn't for me to decide whether you 
 did it or not. But I see no reason why a man 
 should put a rope round his own neck by using 
 his tongue too freely. But you must get up 
 and come with us, and for the rest, well, I
 
 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 don't want to hear any more than I can help. 
 See ? " 
 
 " All right. I'll be ready in about a quarter 
 of an hour. In the meantime you can go down 
 and tell the housekeeper to give you some hot 
 coffee and ham and eggs, and I'll join you as 
 soon as I am dressed." 
 
 " I don't know about that," said Roberts, 
 " I ought not to let you out of my sight." 
 
 " Oh," said Joe, " I see.' Afraid I shall run 
 away, or take black beetle poison. Well, you 
 need not. I am going to face the music. You've 
 heard a good many things in your time, officer ; 
 but did you ever hear anybody say that Joe 
 Wentworth went back on his word ? " 
 
 11 No," he replied, " I never did. Therejare 
 folks who tell queer stories about you, farmer, 
 but I have many a time heard that your word 
 is as good as a Bishop's any time." 
 
 " Sorry you put it that way," said Joe, " but 
 if a Bishop's good enough for you, he's good 
 enough for me. Well, I give you my word of 
 honour that I'll join you at breakfast in ten 
 minutes. And I won't run away if you will let 
 me. It is such good news you have brought me 
 that you are welcome to the best in the house. 
 There is one scamp less in the country, and that 
 is a thing for honest folk to be glad about." 
 
 " Not so fast, Mr. Wentworth, I said he was 
 shot, but I didn't say he was dead ; as a matter 
 of fact he was living an hour ago." 
 
 " That is another proof I didna do it," said 
 Joe. " Sixteen times out of sixteen I brought 
 down my bird shooting young crows last week, 
 and I shouldna have missed the quarry if I had
 
 THE HAND OF THE POLICE. 315 
 
 tried to shoot it, never fear. I learned to 
 shoot in Mexico, where to miss sometimes meant 
 to be shot yourself. But we will talk it out over 
 our cup of coffee." 
 
 " I must search this room first," said the 
 officer. " I need not say I am sorry to have 
 to discharge this unpleasant duty, Mr. Went- 
 worth." 
 
 "Get to work," said Joe. "I've nothin' 
 to hide. There is a six-shooter in the breast 
 pocket of my coat. Mind it does not spit fire, 
 for it goes off as readily as a young hoss takes 
 to kicking. There is nothin' else that concerns 
 you. You'll find all the barrels loaded." 
 
 It was as Joe had described, and they went 
 down to a good breakfast, at which he soon 
 joined them. He was quite merry, and after 
 getting particulars of the story as far as they 
 could give them, he set to work and made a 
 hearty meal " more like a man going to a 
 wedding than one going to jail," the officer 
 declared later. 
 
 Having given the necessary orders for the 
 conducting of the farm in his absence, he was 
 the first to enter the conveyance in which the 
 two officers had come. 
 
 " I'll sit in front with the sergeant," he said 
 to Wainwright, with a twinkle in his eye, " for 
 fear he wants to escape. Don't know but what 
 I ought to put the handcuffs on him to make 
 sure. Here, I'll drive," he continued, as Roberts 
 essayed to gather up the reins. " You might 
 run in the ditch, and I've my go-to-meeting suit 
 on, and I don't want it spoiled." . 
 
 The two officers smiled. They had taken
 
 316 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 many persons to prison, but never one so eager 
 apparently to go as Joe Wentworth. Roberts 
 feebly, but reluctantly, let the farmer take the 
 reins and got up by his side ; but knowing Joe's 
 reputation as a practical joker he determined 
 to keep a close watch on his movements. 
 
 " Now Mary Ann," said Joe to the horse, 
 " pick up your trotters," and he applied the 
 whip in a way that surprised her. " Good stuff 
 for sausages that," he said after a pause, nodding 
 towards the horse, " but too fat to run. If I 
 was in a hurry I should get out and walk." 
 
 " I should have thought you would not have 
 been in a great haste to get to the end of this 
 journey," rejoined Roberts. " If I were going 
 where you are I should want a horse that would 
 go a good deal slower than Bess." 
 
 "Well," answered Joe, "it's like this with 
 me. If I've a tooth that aches I want it out. 
 I hate dawdlin' worse than a rotten egg. Get 
 it over is my motto. If this hoss was mine I'd 
 give her a mash once a week, a twenty miles run 
 every morning, and another after tea. Send 
 her up to my place, sergeant, and if she don't 
 make the wheels spin round so that you cannot 
 count the spokes in a fortneet, I'll eat her with 
 a pinch of salt." 
 
 " Are you not going the low road ? " asked 
 Roberts, as he observed Joe took the Summerton 
 highway at the turn. 
 
 " What for ? " asked Joe. " It binna often 
 I have the honour of two Government officials 
 to keep me company, and I'm not going to 
 make the folks think I'm ashamed to be seen 
 with you. Of course, if you dunno like to be
 
 THE HAND OF THE POLICE. 317 
 
 seen in my company you can get out and walk. 
 Beside, I want to call and see our Rufe, if you 
 can spare a few minutes." 
 
 " I don't think we ought to call anywhere; 
 it's against the regulations, and might get us 
 into trouble. I have already allowed you more 
 license than I have ever allowed any prisoner 
 before." 
 
 " Well," replied Joe, " the way I look at it 
 is this, I am an innocent man, and I was sleeping 
 the sleep of the just, but I wakes up and finds 
 two bobbies prowling round. If I'd done what 
 I ought, I should have boot-jacked the pair of 
 you, and sent you home in such a state that it 
 would have taken your wives all day to put 
 stickin' plaster on. But instead I treat you 
 like gentlemen, give you a good square feed, 
 and come as quietly with you as if I were a lad 
 going to a cricket match. And I tell you this, 
 I don't know who set you on my track, but as 
 sure as the moon isn't made of green cheese 
 you have run the wrong fox to earth, and some- 
 body will hear of it by-and-bye." 
 
 " Hallo ! " he exclaimed, " if this hoss of 
 yours hasn't come to a standstill reet in front 
 of our Rufe's door. Curious, isn't it ; must have 
 known what we were talking about," and he 
 grinned as he looked over his shoulder. 
 
 4 'Rufe! Rufe!" he shouted. " Are you 
 up yet ? Come out, man, and tell these two 
 policeman what a pair of precious fools they 
 are makin' of themselves." 
 
 Rufus came to the door and stared to see his 
 brother sitting beside the officer. 
 
 " They're taking me to jail, Rufe," he said.
 
 318 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 " What do you think of that as an honour for 
 a brother of yours ? I heard you once say in a 
 sermon * There's always two kinds of folks in 
 jail, raskils and heroes. I ain't a raskil, so I 
 must be t'other. But I want you to tell these 
 two ornaments of the police force what time I 
 came here last night." 
 
 " Just eight o'clock," said Rufus, " the 
 clock struck as you entered, and it was just ten 
 past ten when you started home." 
 
 * ' And I had my supper here, didn't I ? " 
 asked Joe. " Beef, pickled onions, and apple pie, 
 eh ? And the Methodist minister, and Dickens 
 and Pearson, were here till I left." 
 
 ' ' Ay, what of that ? " asked Rufus. 
 
 " And you did not permit your poor forlorn 
 brother to go home alone, you went with him ? " 
 
 " I did," answered Rufus, " for I thowt 
 you were not in a fit state to be trusted 
 alone." 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense," replied Joe. " I 
 could see a hole through a ladder easily. And 
 you stayed at our house pitchin' into me like 
 a paid teetotal lecturer for an hour or there- 
 about ? And you made out that I was aboot 
 as poor and miserable a sinner as ever knelt at a 
 penitent form and that there wasn't no Com- 
 mandment I hadn't broken into bits small 
 enough to put into mince pies, 'cept murder. 
 Was that aboot the size of it ? " 
 
 " Well," replied Rufus, smiling, " I did say 
 a few strong things." 
 
 " Strong," answered Joe, " there binna a 
 single religious swear in the Bible, or out of it, 
 you didn't sling at me, thick and fast. But
 
 THE HAND OF THE POLICE. 319 
 
 that will do, Rufe, you've gone through the 
 Catechism very well." 
 
 " Now, gentlemen," he said, " I hope you've 
 put all that down. There binna a man in this 
 county or the next that would dare to say Rufe 
 Wentworth would tell a lie, even if it was to 
 save his brother's neck. There's times when 
 it's mightily convenient to have a reputation 
 for speaking the truth." 
 
 " But what is it all about ? " asked Rufus, 
 " I dunno' understand." 
 
 The Sergeant explained, and then said, " Mr. 
 Wentworth, I think it would be wise for you to 
 go with us to the nearest magistrate, and make 
 a deposition to the effect you have now made, 
 and possibly he will release your brother from 
 his unhappy position, for my information is 
 that the young man was shot at nine o'clock, 
 which would be exactly the time when you were 
 sitting down to supper. There is plenty of 
 evidence, it seems to me, to prove an alibi." 
 
 " Nay," said Joe, " don't call it an unhappy 
 position. I've enjoyed the company very much. 
 But it's lucky I had a fit of repentance on and 
 called to see Rufe, or they might have hung me 
 like a dead turkey at Christmas time." 
 
 They all proceeded to Sir John Crookworth, 
 and he took down the evidence as given, and 
 then Joe was released on bail. 
 
 " Sorry to disappoint you," he said to Roberts, 
 " but I couldn't afford to be locked up just 
 now, even to oblige my friends, Come on, 
 Rufe," he exclaimed, " and I'll tell you some- 
 thing that will make you feel like knocking 
 somebody down for joy. I'd have told you last
 
 320 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 night, but I wanted you to hear it from his own 
 lips this morning. You seemed to enjoy dressing 
 me down so much that I thowt it was a pity to 
 spoil your sport." 
 
 ' ' What is it ? " asked Rufus, trembling with 
 excitement. 
 
 " I know who put the necklace in Queenie's 
 box." 
 
 " Thank God ! " exclaimed Rufus, the tears 
 welling up into his eyes. " Who was it ? " 
 
 * ' Harold Wincanton. He told me so himself. 
 I cornered him on his way home last night, and 
 he was comin' to see you and confess all this 
 morning." 
 
 " And now he may be lying dead, and it may 
 be too late," exclaimed Rufus. 
 
 " My God," said Joe, " I never thought of 
 that. And I had no witnesses. We were to 
 go this morning to Whitehurst for him to make 
 a declaration to his lawyer."
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 "VENGEANCE IS MINE." 
 
 ' ' Speak not of vengeance, 'tis the right of God ; 
 Vengeance is His. Who shall usurp the bolt 
 And launch it for Omnipotence ? " C. P. LAYARD. 
 
 WHEN Joe Wentworth rode out of Whitehurst 
 in pursuit of Harold on that fateful night, he 
 spared neither whip nor spur. Ever and anon 
 his left hand sought his breast pocket to feel if 
 his revolver was there, for there was black 
 murder in his heart. To fling himself upon 
 Wincanton and choke the truth out of him was 
 the frenzied intention of his drink-besotted 
 brain, and, if he resisted, to shoot him down like 
 a dog. His very intensity nearly defeated his 
 purpose. Half way to Summerton, at the 
 beginning of a stretch of moorland, was the 
 Black Crow Hotel, and he was riding like a 
 madman past when for a brief second he saw a 
 face at the window. It was that of the man 
 he sought. He reined his horse up so violently 
 that he reared and narrowly escaped rolling 
 over on his sides. What was his amazement as 
 he slipped out of his saddle to see Harold running 
 bareheaded out of the hotel and shouting him 
 to " Stop ! " Coming up to the astonished 
 farmer, he said excitedly, " I want to see you, 
 Wentworth. Can you spare me a quarter of an 
 hour, on most important business ? " 
 
 " Why," rejoined Joe, " this is a case of the 
 fox hunting the hounds, it appears. Any time
 
 322 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 during the last fortnight I'd have given a 
 hundred pound note to get within shootin' 
 distance of you. Seems the wolf was running 
 into the lion's den." 
 
 " Look here, Wentworth," cried Harold, 
 " I don't know exactly what you are driving 
 at ; but there have been times during the last 
 fortnight when I would have given you, or any 
 man, two notes of the value you mention to put 
 a bullet into me. But what is the use of talk- 
 ing ? There are some things infinitely worse 
 than death. If you only knew the life I've 
 been living I think you would pity me." 
 
 " Guess not," replied Joe. " My pity is 
 all reserved for a poor innocent lass in Glanmore 
 Gaol." 
 
 " Have you heard from her ? " asked Harold, 
 more quietly than he had spoken yet. 
 
 "Nay," said Joe, "but Rufe maybe has. 
 What of that ? " 
 
 " I have tried twice to see her," replied 
 Wincanton, " but she has refused to see me. 
 Through the influence of my friends in London 
 I got a special permit, but Miss Wentworth 
 could on no account be brought to see me." 
 
 " You scoundrel ! " exclaimed Joe, lifting 
 his horsewhip. ' ' You dared ! Not content 
 with ruining her by your miserable lies, you 
 must follow her even to prison. I'd a good 
 mind to whip you like a dog and then kick 
 you into that ditch ! " 
 
 "Hold!" cried Wincanton. "For God's 
 sake do not strike, Wentworth, or I'll not be 
 responsible for the consequences. I am nearly 
 mad as it is. Since the trial I have hardly had
 
 VENGEANCE IS MINE. 323 
 
 a wink of sleep. I have tried to get drunk and 
 couldn't. And to-night I was coming over to 
 see you, so that we might take counsel together 
 how to get Gwen that is, Miss Wentworth 
 out of prison. Come into the Black Crow, 
 and I will ask the landlord to let us have the 
 use of his parlour for half an hour. There 
 are half a dozen yokels yonder peering through 
 the window and wondering what we are about." 
 
 For twenty minutes the two were closeted 
 together, and when Harold left he was heard 
 to bid Joe "Good-bye" and say, "Eleven 
 o'clock in the morning at Stourbridge Park Gate." 
 
 " I'll be there," replied Joe. 
 
 He stood watching Wincanton ride away in 
 the gathering darkness, and then, havng called 
 for a drink of soda water, sat himself down 
 looking thoughtfully into the fire. 
 
 '* Dash of brandy in, I suppose," said the 
 landlord, '"just to give it taste ? " 
 
 " Nay," said Joe, " I've that to do that will 
 require a clear head and a steady hand. I've 
 drunk my last glass of brandy." 
 
 " You binna goin' to sign teetotal, are you ? " 
 answered the landlord, with a covert sneer. 
 
 " I might do wuss," said Joe. " I've had 
 a kind of warnin' these last days that a man 
 with brains cannot afford to drink either brandy 
 or whisky very much. It's a fool's game at 
 best, an I've had enuff of it." 
 
 " Why," replied the landlord, " I find a glass 
 of whisky a good nightcap, and a brandy in the 
 morning is not a bad ' pick-me-up.' ' 
 
 " Ay," said Joe, measuring his corpulent 
 frame with his eye. " You need it, I dare say,
 
 324 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 considerin' the quantity there is of you, 'specially 
 below the collar. When you're tired of this 
 job you might take to rollin' grass." 
 
 " Pooh ! " replied the publican. " I could 
 take you up between my finger and thumb, and 
 eat you with a pinch of salt." 
 
 " Likely," said Joe ; " but I should disagree 
 with you, for you have more brains in your 
 stomach than you ever had in your head. But 
 I must be going. Ta-ta." 
 
 " Think I'll call and see Rufe," he muttered 
 as he again mounted his horse. " I'd better 
 confess and get it over." And so, as related, 
 he rode to his brother's, who had that afternoon 
 called at the farm and had learned of Joe's out- 
 break, which had greatly pained him. And 
 when his brother entered, flushed and excited, 
 Rufus did not spare him, although there was 
 company present. Joe sat silent under the 
 castigation, and then, turning to Mrs. Went- 
 worth, he said : 
 
 " Will you give me a cup of coffee, missus ? 
 Rufus has taken skin, hair, and hoof off me, 
 and I feel like a boiled lobster. I don't say 
 but what I desarve it ; but when a man's badly, 
 a doctor that knows his business don't give him 
 a bucket full of medicine at once." 
 
 After supper Rufus had insisted on accom- 
 panying Joe home, partly because his heart 
 was softening and he felt he had said too much, 
 and partly because there was something new 
 and strange about his brother that almost 
 frightened him. So, persuading him to leave 
 his horse till the morning, the two walked 
 together to the farm a special providence, as
 
 VENGEANCE IS MINE. 325 
 
 Rufus now thought, in view of what had occurred. 
 
 Meanwhile Lady Wincanton, having heard 
 the vicar's story, had telegraphed to the Chief 
 of Police to have Joe arrested on the charge of 
 attempted murder. Two physicians had been 
 also wired for from London, and in the meantime 
 Dr. Gilmour did his best to keep the patient 
 alive. More than once during that anxious 
 night it was thought that he was dead, but still 
 the feeble breath of life lingered, causing the 
 watchers to hope against hope. Early in the 
 morning the two eminent medical men arrived 
 and decided on an immediate operation. This 
 was successfully performed, the bullet extracted, 
 and Harold still lived. Lady Wincanton never 
 left the room ; the instinct of motherhood, 
 uniting with the fierce passion of revenge, kept 
 her up. But after the operation was over the 
 physicians insisted on her removal from the 
 room, and also upon her taking some rest. 
 She had barely returned when a wire was handed 
 in from the Chief of the Police : " Wentworth 
 arrested, but proofs of innocence forthcoming 
 irresistible. Magistrate has released him on 
 promise of surrender when required. Roberts." 
 Then the tiger in the woman broke loose. She 
 raved and stormed, tearing up telegram after 
 telegram as she penned them in reply. 
 
 " They are all leagued against me," she 
 exclaimed. "It is a conspiracy to defeat the 
 ends of justice. But I will be revenged. Oh, 
 if only Harold gets better we will turn the tables 
 on them." 
 
 Un-accustomed to self-restraint, in her mad 
 grief she flung everything to the floor that came
 
 326 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 in her way, smashing to atoms a beautiful Indian 
 vase and tearing to pieces a splendid lace anti- 
 macassar, the first that she laid her hands on. 
 
 At length she framed a reply to the telegram. 
 It was to the effect that Joe Wentworth was 
 to be watched, and she should hold the police 
 responsible if he escaped. Judge, then, of her 
 astonishment when a servant once more entered 
 and said that Rufus Wentworth and his brother 
 desired to see her on urgent business ! 
 
 For a moment she hesitated, and then said, 
 1 1 Show them in ; and, Lucas, you stand outside 
 the door within call." 
 
 As the brothers entered Lady Wincanton rose 
 and stood with one elbow resting on the marble 
 mantelshelf, with her face partly hidden by the 
 tresses of her hair, which hung in luxuriant 
 confusion about her neck and shoulders. 
 
 Rufus entered first. The events of the last 
 two months had aged him. It is sorrow more 
 than years that makes men old. Joe's sharp, 
 lynx eyes eagerly swept her face. It was upon 
 him rather than his brother that Lady Wincanton 
 turned her gaze as she silently bowed in reply 
 to their greeting. It was a difficult situation, 
 and even Joe did not seem able to break the 
 awkward silence. 
 
 At length Rufus, with a touch of native dignity, 
 ventured to inquire after Harold, and expressed a 
 hope that his injuries were not so great as reported. 
 
 " I know not what is reported," said his 
 mother, drawing herself up haughtily, " but it 
 may afford some comfort to his friends, and some 
 displeasure to his enemies, to know that he is 
 still alive."
 
 VENGEANCE IS MINE. 327 
 
 " God be thanked ! " ejaculated Rufus. 
 " For much depends upon his life. I pray that 
 he may be spared till at least justice be done 
 to the innocent." 
 
 * ' I do not know what you mean by your pious 
 ejaculation, sir," she answered. " But I can 
 at least join in, with the alteration of the word 
 ' guilty ' for ' innocent ' ; and as sure as there 
 is a God in heaven the guilty shall suffer." 
 
 ' ' The guilty always do suffer sooner or later," 
 replied Rufus ; "for no truer word was ever 
 written than ' Be sure your sins will find you 
 out.' But when we poor mortals begin to 
 measure out punishment we often mistake the 
 innocent for the guilty and perpetrate one wrong 
 in trying to revenge another." 
 
 " If that," said Lady Wincanton, " is meant 
 for a plea for the man there " pointing at 
 Joe " it will not have any effect on me. I 
 tell you if my boy dies he shall swing for it, and 
 if he lives he shall pay for every hour of pain 
 by a year's imprisonment. I will not be baulked 
 of vengeance, though all the smooth-tongued 
 hypocrites in the country intervene. I will 
 have life for life, blood for blood, and suffering 
 for suffering. He shall not escape. You may 
 hoodwink that poor fool of a Chief Constable 
 at Whitehurst, but you cannot cheat me. He 
 shall not leave this house except in custody." 
 
 " Tush," said Joe, ** threatened men live 
 long. No man knows what he will come to, 
 but, without being a prophet, I venture to say 
 the rope is not made that will hang me. Hush, 
 Rufe," he cried, as his brother endeavoured 
 to interfere ; ' ' this fish is for my net, not yours.
 
 328 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 We are come, madam, not to cry for mercy, 
 but to demand justice for that poor lass that 
 lies in Glanmore Gaol." 
 
 " Ay," she broke in, " and you have chosen 
 a proper time for your errand. When my boy, 
 whom she inveigled into her snare, lies dying, 
 it is well you should come. If I had my way, 
 it's not two, but twenty, years that she should 
 have, and then it would be short of her deserts. 
 Never ! " And in her passion she stamped her 
 foot twice on the floor. 
 
 " Wait ! " thundered Joe. " No, no, Rufe," 
 he cried as again his brother attempted to 
 speak; "this is my business, and now I'll 
 discharge it in my own way. Madam," he 
 said, " you believe that I shot your son. I 
 tell you now that at any time during the last 
 fortnight if I had met him I should have shot 
 him like a dog, and on his own showing he 
 deserved it. But the vengeance I sought was 
 mercifully denied me. I do not know who did 
 the deed, but whoever it was did me the greatest 
 dis-favour he could. I had arranged to meet 
 your son this morning at Whitehurst, and he 
 was going to put his hand to a deed that would 
 have freed that poor lass at Glanmore, though 
 it might have put him there in her place." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " cried Lady Win- 
 canton, white with suppressed passion. 
 
 " Just this that your son confessed to me 
 last night that he put the pearls and jewels into 
 Gwen's box, and, though he had acted like a 
 scoundrel, he was at length going to play the 
 man and own up and take the consequences." 
 
 * ' It is false ] " shouted Lady Wincanton,
 
 VENGEANCE IS MINE. 329 
 
 " a foul conspiracy to ruin my son. Oh, you 
 are a precious pair, I declare." 
 
 11 Say your say about me," replied Joe, " but 
 leave Rufe out, please. He binna your soart, 
 nor mine ; and you don't better things by 
 showing your ignorance of his kind. But callin' 
 a thing a lie don't make it so. What I've told 
 you is as true as anything in the Prayer Book, 
 and if he lives he will tell you so himself. But 
 the question is, What will you do if he dies ? " 
 
 " I don't believe a word of it. I repeat it is 
 a foul plot devised to ruin my son. But I will 
 be avenged I will be avenged," and throwing 
 herself on the couch, she burst into hysterical 
 tears. 
 
 " Come, Rufe," said Joe, " we can do no 
 good by staying. She is determined not to 
 believe, and you cannot convince a woman 
 against her will. We must wait and hope." 
 
 And so the brothers left the Hall with sad 
 hearts, for they had hoped to move Lady Win- 
 canton to act on Joe's information and so secure 
 Gwen's release. They little understood the 
 hard, fierce, implacable nature of the woman 
 with whom they had to deal. 
 
 But a few hours later Rufus was surprised 
 to be summoned back to the Hall. When he 
 arrived he was amazed to find Sir John Crook- 
 worth, Bedford Bird, and a solicitor from White- 
 hurst all assembled in the room of the dying 
 man. Harold had sent messengers unknown 
 to his mother while she was sleeping for these 
 individuals, saying that he had an important 
 communication to make.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 A STRANGE CONFESSION. 
 
 " But many a crime deemed innocent on earth, 
 Is registered in heaven, and these, no doubt, 
 Have each their record, with a curse annexed." 
 
 COWPER. 
 
 THE dying man lay with his eyes fixed on the 
 ceiling. For a moment all was still, then he 
 said, " I have sent for you that I might make 
 the confession that I intended to make in the 
 presence of a magistrate on the morning after 
 I was shot a confession I had briefly made 
 to Mr. Joe Wentworth the night before. It 
 is simply that I put the necklace and diamonds 
 in Miss Wentworth's box. I hoped by doing 
 so to compel her to consent to marry me. I 
 have nothing more to say, except that I hope 
 she and her family will forgive me for the pain 
 and trouble I have brought upon them. Please 
 write down what I have said quick, and I will 
 sign it before I die." 
 
 The lawyer quickly drafted a simple state- 
 ment and then eagerly the dying man clutched 
 the pen and wrote his name, all present signing 
 as witnesses. Rufus then stepped to the bed, 
 and was about to speak a few words of forgive- 
 ness and comfort, but suddenly Harold gave 
 a short cough, his mouth filled with blood, and 
 in a moment he was dead.
 
 A STRANGE CONFESSION. 331 
 
 Leaving the vicar and the lawyer to break 
 the sad news to Lady Wincanton, the others 
 hurried away to forward the confession at once 
 to the Home Secretary. 
 
 Three days afterwards, Joe Wentworth, driving 
 tandem with Rufus at his side, arrived at the 
 prison gates at Glanmore. 
 
 " We will bring her back in style," was Joe's 
 remark when his brother protested against this 
 ostentatious turn-out, " and show the folks 
 of Summerton what an innocent woman looks 
 like. We will have no sneaking in by back 
 ways. I hope the lass will hold up her head 
 like a queen on Coronation Day." 
 
 " Now, Rufe, get down and fetch her out, 
 and I'll stay wi' the hosses. That leader won't 
 stand unless he feels the reins. I'll wait for 
 my kisses till I get home. I'm afraid she'll be 
 greatly changed, poor lass." 
 
 Rufus went in through the large iron gates, 
 and was taken not to the prison, but to the 
 governor's room, and the next moment Gwen's 
 arms were round his neck. " Oh, Dad," as all 
 she could say, and then she burst into tears 
 for very joy. 
 
 " My lass, the Lord is good," said Rufus, 
 gently stroking her hair. " Yes, the Lord is 
 good, but there have been times when I almost 
 thought he'd forgotten us. We've been drinking 
 from the wells of Marah, where all the waters 
 were bitter, and we've murmured and com- 
 plained like Israel of old. But I've come to take 
 you home. Mother's bin up all neet makin' 
 cakes and candy mostly, and her heart's so full 
 of thanksgivin', she'll make all the children in
 
 332 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 the village sick wi' gingerbread and currant cake 
 if we dunno make haste back. And Uncle Joe's 
 outside, and he's hungering for a sight of your 
 face as much as if ye were his own bairn. You 
 needna hurry if a good cry would relieve your 
 feelings." 
 
 But Gwen, after the first outburst was over, 
 soon controlled herself, and was ready to step 
 out into the sunshine, free once more to go 
 whither she would without a stain on her 
 reputation. 
 
 " How good it feels to be alive, and how the 
 sweet clear air seems like a breath from the 
 heavenly hills," she said directly they got 
 outside. 
 
 " Well, miss," said Joe, directly they had left 
 the jail behind, and he lashed the horses into 
 a wild gallop, " I reckon you are the biggest 
 fraud that's goin'. The Wild Man of Borneo, 
 who was born at Bermondsey, or the travelling 
 giant, binna a circumstance where you come. 
 Here I've been tryin' to prepare our Rufe to 
 meet a livin' skeleton, wi' cheeks white as a 
 duck's wing, and as bald as a swede turnip, 
 and you turn up as fat as butter, plump as a 
 partridge, and smilin' like the man in the moon 
 when he is in good temper. Been courtin' the 
 governor, I guess, and havin' dinner parties, 
 and playin' at tennis. You'r worse than the 
 widder Maloney, whose eyes bewitched Paddy 
 McGaffery, and drew him all the way from New 
 York to Dublin, and when he got there he found 
 he was just in time to get a bit of weddin' cake, 
 for she had married Mike Hattery. Gee up, 
 there," he said to the horses, " don't you know
 
 A STRANGE CONFESSION. 333 
 
 you've got the Queen of Humbugs behind 
 you ? " 
 
 Gwen sat and smiled, content in the thought 
 that she was going home, which seemed the 
 brighter and happier because of the dark back- 
 ground of the last few weeks. As yet she 
 knew nothing of the circumstances which had 
 led to her release. All the Governor had told 
 her was that her innocency had been proved, 
 and that he had been ordered to release her. 
 But as they neared the village she heard the 
 church bells ringing merrily. 
 
 " Who is being married ? " she asked, turn- 
 ing to Rufus. 
 
 " I dunno know of anyone," said Rufus, 
 looking puzzled. " Do you, Joe ? " 
 
 " No," replied the latter with a grin. " I 
 guess they are playin' because Queenie's come 
 home." 
 
 " Ah," said Rufus, " this is another of your 
 tricks. But," he went on, after a pause, " I 
 wish you hadna done it. The lass, I am sure, 
 would rather have come home quietly and wi'oot 
 ony fuss." 
 
 " I know she would, but I was determined 
 to manage things in my own way for once. We 
 dunno have a prisoner come home in our family 
 every day, so I sent Burrock a sovereign to 
 ring us in. You know when the prodigal came 
 home there was music and dancing. What 
 do you say, Queenie ? " 
 
 " Dad is right," she replied. " I wanted a 
 very quiet home-coming, and I don't like this 
 ringing of bells a bit. But, never mind, Uncle 
 Joe, you did it for the best ; and we will send
 
 334 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 and have them stopped as soon as we get in. 
 I hope you have done nothing more." 
 
 " Well," replied Joe, " I did think of a brass 
 band, but I couldna get one very handy, and 
 so I sent word to the schoolmaster that he might 
 give the scholars a new sixpence round at my 
 expense and a half holiday. And I've given all 
 the men on the farm a day off and a crown piece 
 to spend. And that is all. You see I must do 
 something to express my feelings, and not being 
 given to shout ' Glory ' like Rufe, when I'm 
 full up to the brim, I did it in my own way." 
 
 " You meant well," replied Rufus, " and I'll 
 not begrudge you anything that will make you 
 happy. But we should think of others first. 
 There's the lass here who ought to have been 
 consulted, and then I think of that poor, dis- 
 tracted woman up at Stourbridge Hall, lookin' 
 in the face of her dead lad and thinkin' of what 
 might have been. I fear, wi' the funeral to- 
 morrow, this merry pealing of bells will only 
 increase her heartache, which if I mistake not, 
 is hard enough to bear." 
 
 ' ' Pooh ! " said Joe, ' ' dunno trouble about 
 her. She made a bed of thistles herself, and 
 I'm not going to use up all my pocket-handker- 
 chiefs wiping my eyes now she's got to lie on it. 
 When I think of what the poor innocent lass 
 has suffered through her and him, I've about as 
 much sympathy for her as would grease the 
 point of a needle." 
 
 * ' But we mon forgive," replied Rufus. ' ' That 
 is our first duty. If the young man sinned, he 
 has suffered, and now we mon leave him in the 
 hands of God, who knows all hearts and will
 
 A STRANGE CONFESSION. 335 
 
 judge righteous judgment. We must be pitiful 
 to the dead." 
 
 During the conversation Gwen turned from 
 one to the other, and at length she asked, " Of 
 whom are you talking, dad ? Who is dead ? " 
 
 " Well, I didna intend to tell ye till we got 
 home. But now you know part, you may as 
 well know all. Harold Wincanton was shot 
 on Tuesday night last week ; it is thought by 
 one of the gipsy Bremners. He lived two days, 
 and then passed away. It is to be hoped that 
 ere he died he sought pardon where it is to be 
 found." 
 
 The colour all left Gwen's face, and a great 
 pity filled her heart as she heard of the death of 
 her whilom lover, and her eyes filled with tears. 
 
 1 ( They nearly sent me to keep you company," 
 said Joe, '* but they thought one of the family 
 was enough at a time. But dad has not told 
 you that before he died he confessed that he 
 put the necklace in your box." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed she, in great surprise. 
 ' 'Harold!" 
 
 ' ' Yes ; the scamp ! And signed a statement 
 with his own hand to that effect. Didn't he, 
 Rufe ? " 
 
 " But," said Gwen, " he couldn't it is im- 
 possible. There must have been some mistake." 
 
 " None at all, Queenie," replied Joe. " Sir 
 John Crookworth has a copy of the statement 
 signed in his presence and that of the vicar." 
 
 Gwen was silent for the rest of the journey. 
 She was greatly puzzled. She could not reconcile 
 this statement of the dying man with certain 
 facts known only to herself.
 
 336 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 First, Harold had not returned to Stourbridge 
 Hall when she had retired to rest on the last 
 fateful night of her visit. She was quite sure 
 that she bolted the bedroom door inside, as she 
 always did before putting out the light. Then 
 her box was locked ready for removal, and the 
 key was in her purse under her pillow. In the 
 morning the maid brought her breakfast, and 
 she remembered well that she had hurt her 
 finger in pushing back the bolt of the door, which 
 was stiff. She had barely time to partake of 
 breakfast and put on her hat and coat ere the 
 maid announced that the carriage was ready 
 to take her home Nobody entered the room 
 except the maid, who had no time or opportunity 
 to deposit anything in her box even if it had 
 been open. How, then, could Harold have been 
 the guilty party ? She, however, determined 
 to say nothing until she had time to think it 
 over. 
 
 When they reached the village she was greatly 
 moved, for at every door there was a group who 
 waved her a welcome home with pocket-handker- 
 chiefs, and the schoolmaster with all his scholars 
 stood at the street corner and gave her a loud 
 ' ' Hurrah ! " three times repeated. The vicar 
 was waiting in the doorway of the vicarage, and 
 stepped out to shake hands with her, and Sir 
 John Crookworth and his wife came driving 
 to meet them. 
 
 " Bless me," exclaimed Joe, " here's the 
 whole clamjamfray turned out to take part in 
 the programme. I'll have to go and jail myself 
 if it makes a body so popular. It's as good as 
 a club feast and a horse fair all in one."
 
 A STRANGE CONFESSION. 337 
 
 Gwen would willingly have spared all these 
 greetings, but she got through it nobly. Still, 
 she was not sorry when she was folded in her 
 mother's arms in her own little room at home. 
 Joe, with a tact and self-denial that did him 
 great credit, refused to stay for lunch, under the 
 plea that the horses were too warm to stand, for 
 he felt that those three, who were so much to 
 each other, would want to be alone together. 
 
 After the meal Rufus got out the big Bible 
 and read the ic>3rd Psalm, and then suggested 
 they should sing a hymn, and forthwith struck 
 up with 
 
 " God moves in a mysterious way 
 His wonders to perform ; 
 He plants His footsteps on the sea, 
 And rides upon the storm." 
 
 Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, 
 But trust Him for His grace ; 
 Behind a frowning Providence 
 He hides a smilingTface."
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 NEMESIS. 
 
 " The just shall dwell, 
 
 And after all their tribulations long, 
 
 Six golden days fruitful of golden deeds." 
 
 MILTON. 
 
 THE next day Harold Wincanton was laid 
 in his resting place. His mother distraught 
 with grief refusing the consolations of religion, 
 sat in the lonely hall, the wealthiest and most 
 miserable woman in the parish. Smitten with 
 remorse one moment, and the next with a 
 desolate sense of loneliness, and a fierce resent- 
 ment againt those whom she regarded as her 
 enemies. Her plot had miserably failed. At 
 one time she seemed to have all the cards in her 
 hand, and yet the game had gone against her. 
 One fixed determination took hold of her, and 
 that was to sell Stourbridge Hall, and leave the 
 neighbourhood as speedily as possible. She 
 could hear the muffled tolling of the bell, that 
 announced that the funeral cortege was reaching 
 the church, and it sounded to her like the dirge 
 of her every joy. She sorrowed like those who 
 have no hope ; over the newly-made grave there 
 was no rainbow of promise. 
 
 Gwen had slipped back very naturally and 
 easily into her old life, except that she no longer 
 had to seek pupils they sought her. And
 
 NEMESIS. 339 
 
 soon she was living a full, active life. But Rufus 
 noted that there was a new development in her 
 character ; a solicitude for the cares and sorrows 
 of others she had never manifested before. 
 Those terrible weeks in prison had taught her 
 many things, and given a depth and richness to 
 her character, which added an additional charm 
 to her personality. Formerly the key-note to 
 her character had been self-pleasing, now it was 
 self-sacrifice. Before she had avoided coming 
 in contact with poverty, now she sought it out. 
 Her great joy was to go with Rufus when he was 
 visiting the poor and sick, and carry flowers or 
 a basket of tempting delicacies, just such as only 
 his wife could prepare. And very frequently 
 she would sing a favourite hymn for some 
 sufferer, and soon her visits were greatly prized 
 and eagerly looked forward to by the sick 
 and sad. 
 
 " The vicar and I will have to retire from 
 the business," Rufus told his wife one day, as 
 tears of gratitude filled his eyes. " We binna 
 in it at all where Gwen comes. To hear her 
 talking to that little girl of Sutton's as is dying 
 of consumption would have done you good. 
 I reckon I'm fairly quick wi' bairns, gettin' 'em 
 to talk and a' that ; but la' bless you, while I'm 
 getting ower the first stile she's half way across 
 the field. And then that old heathen, Charlie 
 Swarton, who boasts that he's never bin inside 
 a place of worship sin' he was christened, who 
 has got notice to quit, signed by the hand of 
 death, I couldna get him to talk about owt else 
 except pigs and gardens, but in no time she 
 was singing to him about the home above there,
 
 340 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 and he lay looking at the ceiling as if he was 
 gettin' a peep in at the front door, and when she 
 was done, he axed her to come again. I tell 
 you the Lord knew what He was doin' when He 
 sent her to jail. It's my opinion He met her 
 there." 
 
 Rufus was right. The sights she had wit- 
 nessed, the dreadful, hopeless, lives of some of 
 her sister prisoners, had touched her heart, and 
 she had solemnly resolved that when she got 
 out she would no longer be content to live the 
 butterfly life she had been living, but would 
 seek to be of some real service in the world. 
 When Mr. Evans, for a second time, sought her 
 hand in marriage, she, to the great delight of 
 Rufus, accepted him ; and the wedding was 
 arranged to take place early in the following 
 spring. 
 
 " I knew it wad be a parson," said Joe, 
 when he was told of it. " Wimin always like 
 husbands who wear a uniform. A soldier, a 
 parson, and a jockey can have any woman they 
 like for a wife. There binna any soldiers about 
 here, and the only jockey is Tim Short, and he's 
 married, and has thirteen children. So there 
 was only the parson left. Well, he knows a 
 good deal about horses, and as much about 
 farmin' as most farmers. He is a good fisherman, 
 and if he only knew how to preach he would 
 be first rate. But you can't have everything 
 in one man, can you, Rufe ? " 
 
 " Why," replied Rufe, " there is not a better 
 or a sounder preacher in the Connexion than 
 Mr. Evans. He'll be President of the Conference 
 some day."
 
 NEMESIS. 341 
 
 " Sound," said Joe, " a man who says that 
 * the meteorological conditions of the weather 
 are likely to be disturbed, and indicate possi- 
 bilities of an electrical and thunderous out- 
 burst,' instead of saying there is likely to be a 
 thunderstorm, is all sound, and but little sense. 
 But he'll maybe learn to speak more to the point 
 when he is married. It generally has that effect, 
 I notice. The one thing I have to say is that 
 she is far too good for him. But have you heard 
 that Lady Jezebel is selling the estate and is 
 going back to London ? " 
 
 " No," said Rufus, " is it true ? " 
 
 " Ay, I've just come from Whitehurst, and 
 have got the information first hand from her 
 lawyer, who has made me an offer of the Red 
 Acres. And I'm going to have it, but I'm not 
 going to give their price for it if I can help it." 
 
 ' ' Well," said his brother, ' ' I canna say but 
 that I'm glad she's goin', for she has oppressed the 
 hireling in his wages and ground the face of 
 the poor." 
 
 " She has done wuss than that," rejoined 
 Joe. " If the vicar would allow it, I'd give the 
 ringers a five pound note to ring their merriest 
 peal the day she leaves, if it was the last I had." 
 
 " No, no," exclaimed Rufus, " you munno 
 do that. Remember, if she has sinned she has 
 suffered. Leave her to her conscience and 
 God." 
 
 And so it came to pass that the estate was 
 portioned out, and some parts of it sold by 
 private treaty, and Joe Wentworth became 
 possessor of Red Acres. The rest was to be 
 put to the hammer on the 1st of February, and
 
 342 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 immediately after the sale Lady Wincanton was 
 to leave for London. But man proposes and 
 God disposes. 
 
 The night before the sale she was retiring to 
 rest when she had the misfortune to upset a 
 table on which stood a lighted lamp. In a 
 moment the drapery round the bed was in 
 flames, and in a vain attempt to extinguish it 
 her dress caught fire. When the servants, 
 alarmed by her cries, rushed in to the rescue, 
 they found their mistress all aflame. The butler 
 instantly drew off the eiderdown quilt from the 
 bed and, rolling her tightly in it, extinguished 
 the flames. But she was very badly burnt 
 and when the doctor arrived she had but a few 
 hours at most to live. Her hair was all burnt, 
 and the right side of her face very much scorched, 
 so that it was very difficult for her to speak. 
 Strange, however, her right hand was un- 
 touched, and she made those around her under- 
 stand she wanted writing materials. When 
 they were handed to her she wrote : " Send 
 for the vicar of Summerton and Miss Went- 
 worth." 
 
 Instantly messages were despatched, and in 
 a very short time Bedford Bird and Gwen were 
 standing by her bedside. She tried to speak, 
 but, failing in the attempt to make herself 
 understood, she wrote : ' ' My boy was innocent. 
 He told a lie for my sake. I put the necklace 
 in the box." After writing this she stopped for 
 a time. There was still one word to add, more 
 difficult to write than all the other part of the 
 pitiful confession. At length and very slowly 
 she wrote, " Forgive."
 
 NEMESIS. 343 
 
 Gwen stood for a moment after reading it, 
 and then, with the tears falling, she stooped 
 down and kissed the dying woman. 
 
 The vicar then knelt and read the Lord's 
 Prayer. A solemn silence filled the room as 
 he finished, and when they rose from their knees 
 Lady Wincanton made an effort to say some- 
 thing, but what it was nobody could tell. She 
 then closed her eyes and fell asleep, a sleep 
 which passed into death. 
 
 Thus ended a life given up to selfish and 
 worldly aims, almost uninterrupted by a single 
 generous act or noble thought ; nor was there 
 one left behind her who thought it worth while 
 to drop a tear on her grave. 
 
 In a few weeks Gwen was married. The 
 village bells pealed merrily on that beautiful 
 April morning, an act of grace on the part of 
 the vicar, for of course the marriage took place 
 in the little Methodist Chapel. Joe Wentworth 
 was best man, and made the speech of the day 
 at the wedding breakfast, keeping the table in 
 roars of laughter ; and when the happy couple 
 drove away to the station, prepared for a 
 journey to Llandudno for the honeymoon, he 
 it was who slyly fastened an old Wellington 
 boot to the axle of the carriage. But when the 
 carriage had disappeared he stood gazing for 
 a long time at the bend in the road, and then, 
 turning to his brother, he said : " Rufe, I'm 
 not sure but I should have been a better man 
 if I had married some good woman long ago. 
 There are times when a lonely fire-side is a great 
 temptation to a man, and for want of company 
 he keeps that of the devil. If I'd been a younger
 
 344 ROSES AND THISTLES. 
 
 man, anyhow, I would have given yon parson 
 a run for his money. As it is, I've made over 
 all I have to Gwen when I die. You'll have 
 enough and to spare." 
 
 (THE END.)
 
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