The Parson O' Dumford Part 24

"Don't you abuse him whose bread you eat," said Joe.

"I don't," said Mrs Banks. "It's his mother's and not his. I believe he soon wouldn't have a bit for himself, if it wasn't for you keeping his business together. Always sporting and gambling, and fooling away his money."

"Well, if I keep it together, it's for our bairn, isn't it?" said Joe.

"And he's no better than he should be."

"You let him alone," said Joe, stoutly. "All young men are a bit wild 'fore they're married. I was for one."

"It's a big story, Joe," said Mrs Banks, indignantly. "You wasn't, or I shouldn't ha' had you."

Joe winked at the clock again, and laughed a little inside as he unb.u.t.toned another b.u.t.ton of his vest--the second beginning at the top-- to keep count how many cups of tea he had had.

"It's my opinion," said Mrs Banks, "that--"

"Howd thee tongue, wilt ta?" cried Joe. "Here's the la.s.s."

Daisy entered as he spoke, looking very pale and anxious-eyed, hastened through the kitchen, and went upstairs to take off her hat and jacket.

"Just you make haste down, miss," said Mrs Banks, tartly.

"I don't want any supper, mother," said the girl, hurriedly.

"Then I want thee to ha'e some!" exclaimed Mrs Banks; "so look sharp."

Daisy gave a sigh and hurried upstairs, and, as the door closed, Joe brought his hand down on the table with a thump that made the cups and saucers dance.

"Now, look here, old woman--that's my bairn, and I wean't have her wherrited. If she is--"

"I'm going to say what's on my mind, Joe, when it's for my child's good," said Mrs Banks, stoutly.

"Are you?" said Joe, taking another cup of tea and undoing another b.u.t.ton; "then so am I. Lookye here, my la.s.s! I wouldn't ha' took a step to throw Daisy in young Maister's way, but as he's took to her, why, I wean't ha' it interfered wi'--so now, then."

"Don't blame me, then, Joe; that's all," said Mrs Banks.

"Who's going to?" said Joe. "So now let's have none of your clat."

Daisy came in then, and took her place at the table, making a very sorry pretence at eating, and only speaking in monosyllables till her mother pressed her.

"Did Mrs Glaire send you home with anybody?"

"No, mother."

"Did you come home alone?"

"No, mother."

"Humph: who came with you?"

"Tom, mother."

Mrs Banks looked mollified, and Joe surprised.

"Has Miss Eve been playing to you, to-night?"

"No, mother."

"What have you been doing then?"

"I--I--haven't been at the House," stammered Daisy.

Joe turned sharply round.

"Have you been a-walking with Tom, then?"

"No, mother, I only met him--coming home--and he walked beside me," said the girl, with crimson cheeks.

"Theer, theer, theer," said Joe, interposing, "let the bairn alone.

Daisy, my la.s.s, mak' me a round o' toast."

How Joe was going to dispose of a round of toast after the meal he had already devoured was a problem; but Daisy darted a grateful look at him, made the toast--which was not eaten--and then, after the things were cleared away, read for an hour to her father, straight up and down the columns of the week-old county paper, till it was time for bed, without a single interruption.

But Mrs Banks made up for it when they went to bed, and the last words Joe heard before going to sleep were--

"Well, Joe, I wash my hands of the affair. It's your doing, and she's your own bairn."

And Joe Banks went to sleep, and dreamed of seeing himself in a new suit of clothes, throwing an old shoe after Daisy as she was being carried off by Richard Glaire in a carriage drawn by four grey horses, the excitement being such that he awoke himself in the act of crying "Hooray!" while poor Daisy was kneeling by her bedside, sobbing as though she would break her heart.

Volume 1, Chapter XIV.

SIM SLEE SEES ANOTHER OPENING.

"Here, just hap me up a bit," said Sim Slee to his wife, as he lay down on a rough kind of couch in their little keeping-room, as the half sitting-room, half kitchen was called; and in obedience to the command, Mrs Slee happed him up--in other words, threw a patchwork counterpane over her lord.

"If you'd come home at reasonable times and tak' thee rest you wouldn't be wantin' to sleep in the middle o' the day," said Mrs Slee, roughly.

"Ah, a deal you know about things," grumbled Sim. "You'd see me starved with cold before you'd stir, when I was busy half the night over the affairs of the town."

"I'stead o' your own," grumbled Mrs Slee.

"Howd thee tongue, woman," said Sim. "I'm not going to sleep, but to think over matters before I go and see Joe Banks this afternoon. I can think best lying down."

Mrs Slee resumed her work, which was that of making a hearthrug of shreds of cloth, and soon after Sim was thinking deeply with his mouth open, and his breath coming and going with an unpleasant gurgle.

As soon as he was asleep, Mrs Slee began busily to prepare the humble dinner that was cooking, and spread the clean white table for her lord's meal. A table-cloth was a luxury undreamed of, but on so white a table it did not seem necessary.

When all was ready, she went across the room and touched Sim, who opened his eyes and rose.