"
"Oi doubt he woant do she much good; it be food, and not doctor's
stuff as the child needs," another remarked.
"That be so, surely," went up in a general chorus, and then a
newcomer who had just entered the room said:
"Oi ha' joost coom vrom Nance's and Bill Swinton ha' sent in a
basin o' soup as he got vrom the feyther o' that boy as broke his
leg. Nance war a feeding the child wi' it, and maybe it will do
her good. He ha' been moighty koind to Bill, that chap hav."
"He ha' been that," Gideon said, after the chorus of approval had
died away.
"Oi seed t' young un today a-sitting in front o' th' cottage,
a-talking and laughing wi' Bill."
"They be good uns, feyther and son, though they tells oi as neither
on them bain't Yaarkshire."
The general feeling among the company was evidently one of surprise
that any good thing should be found outside Yorkshire. But further
talk on the subject was interrupted by a slight exclamation at the
door.
"O what a smoke, feyther! I can't see you, but I suppose you're
somewhere here. You're wanted at home."
Although the speaker was visible to but few in the room there
was no doubt as to her identity, or as to the person addressed as
feyther. Mary Powlett was indeed the niece and not the daughter of
Luke Marner, but as he had brought her up from childhood she looked
upon him as her father. It was her accent and the tone of her voice
which rendered it unnecessary for any of those present to see her
face.
Pages:
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55