Mary Barton

ht beneath t

vil deed, no

living vio

s to Heaven wha

h the chastening

li

tting that the woman's sorrows are far more difficult to mitigate than a child's, even by the mighty power of a mother's love; and unconscious of the fact, that she was far superior in sense and spirit to the mother she mourned. Aunt Esther was still mysteriously absent, and people had grown weary of wondering and began to forget. Barton still attended his club, and was an active member of a trades' union; indeed, more frequently than ever, since the time of Mary's return in the evening was so uncertain; and, as she occasionally, in very busy times, remained all night. His chiefest friend was still George Wilson, although he had no great sympathy on the questions that agitated Barton's mind. Still their hearts were bound by old ties to one another, and the

e from her half-day's work at some tradesman's house. Mary and Alice had always liked each other; indeed, Alice looked with particular interest on the motherless girl, the daughter of her whose forgiving kiss had so comf

r above, who does plain work, and now and then a bit in your own line, Mary; she's grand-daughter to old Job Legh, a spinner,

ual occasion. In general, she used herb-tea for herself, when at home, unless some thoughtful mistress made her a present of tea-leaves from her more abundant household. The two chairs drawn out for visitors, and duly swept and dusted; an old board arranged with some skill upon two old candle-boxes set on end (rather ricketty to be sure, but she knew the seat of old, and when to sit lightly; indeed the whole affair was more for apparent dignity of position than for any real ease); a little, very little round table put just before the fire, which by this time was blazing merrily; her unlackered, ancient, third-hand tea-tray arranged with a black tea-pot, two cups with a red and white pattern, and one with the old friendly willow pattern, and saucers, not to match (on one of the extra supply, the lump of butter flourished away); all these preparations complete, Alice began to look about her with satisfaction, and a sort of wonder

king young woman, with a careworn look; her dress was humble and very simple, consisting of some kind of dark stuff gown, her neck being covered by a drab shawl or large handkerchief, pinned down behind and at the sides in front. Th

. She's quite grand with her late hour

tty new blue merino, made tight to her throat, her little linen collar and linen cuffs, and sallied forth to impress poor gentle Margaret. She certainly succeeded. Alice, who never thought much about beauty, had never told Margaret how pretty Mary was; and, as she came in half-blushing at her own self-consciousness, Margaret could hardly take her eyes off her, and Mary put down her long black lashes wi

good such things taste when far away from home. Not but what every one likes it. When I was i

out it, Alice,

ster than Milnthorpe or Lancaster; and, lasses, I was young and thoughtless, and thought it was a fine thing to go so far from home. So, one day, th' butcher he brings us a letter fra George, to say he'd heard on a place-and I was all agog to go, and father was pleased, like; but mother said little, and that little was very quiet. I've often thought she was a bit hurt to see me so ready to go-God forgive me! But she packed up my clothes, and some o' the better end of her own as would fit me, in yo

s of youth have worn themselves out before we grow old; but she looked so sorrowful that the girl

Alice? Did you never go home w

ut first one thing came, and then another. First, missis's children fell ill of the measles, just when th' week I'd ask'd for came, and I couldn't leave them, for one and all cried for me to nurse them. Then m

ad not gone into se

thought I could go at a leisure time, and missis telled me I should have a fortnight then, and I used to sit up all that winter working hard at patchwo

, "I should have thought that

er a lift, to going home to be a burden to him. Besides, how could I hear o' a place there? Anyways I thought it best to stay, tho

t you thought right,"

' lining, George came in one evening to tell me mother was dead. I cried many a night at after; [3] I'd no time for crying by day, for that missis was terrible strict; she would not hearken to my going to th' funeral; and indeed I would have been too late,

tno

e to me, Tyrrel, soon, at after

et

etty place?"

em to go up into th' skies, not near may be, but that makes them all the bonnier. I used t

golden hill

sall ne

-bee for ever sounding among it. Mother used to send Sally and me out to gather ling and heather for besoms, and it was such pleasant work! We used to come home of an evening loaded so as you could not see us, for all that it was so light to carry. And then mother would make us sit down under the old hawthorn tree (where we used to make our house among the great roots as stood above th' ground), to pick and tie

been in all these ma

six to Himself), Will, as I was telling you on; and I took him myself, and left service to make a bit on a home-place for him, and a fine lad he was, the very spit of his father as to looks, only steadier. For he was steady, although nought would serve him but going to sea. I tried all I could to set him again a sailor's life. Says I, 'Folks is as sick as dogs all the time they're at sea. Your own mother telled me (for she came from foreign parts, being a Manx woman) that she'd ha thanked any one for throwing her into the water.' Nay, I sent

tno

it," p

et

t and demure, that Mary was in doubt if she were not really ignorant. Not that Mary's knowledge was very

hts, which they suspected had wandered to the home and scenes of her childhood, were silent. All at

f, but folks say Margaret is a rare singer, and I know she can make me cry at any

amused at Alice's choice

u are Lancashire born and bred, for it is a co

DHAM W

on-weyver, as mo

yeat, an' oi've wo

' tuppence for

h brosten, an' st

ink it

wt into t

[5] an' do th'

I

illy's kept te

er toimes if I'd

ng, till oi've nea

eeart oi'se soon

y's weel

r wur c

icked ower i'

I

eek-thinking aitch

hifted, till neaw

ettles, whoile

orridge the be

llin' y

find fo

in' na bet

V

ans sent th' b

oi eawd him, as

lat, fur owd Bi

n' cart, an' ta'en

left bo' th

seeats

ceawred Ma

leuked reawnd as

w t' goods were ta'

h' tother, "Aws go

freet, mon, yeau

de no m

d up th' e

leet, whack-

I

awr Marget, as we

lower i' this w

awtern, oi'm su

y heart we're boo

at we h

ms t' w

e as good lo

I

lares had hoo c

Lunnon an' talk

na awtered when t

olved t' sew up

to say aga

oikes a f

oo can tell wh

tno

is the choice, when the valiant mus

et

tno

to throw the shuttle

et

ly pathetic song. Margaret had both witnessed the destitution, and had the heart to feel it; and withal, her voice was of that rich and rare order, which does not require any great compass of notes to make itself appreciated. Alice had her quiet enjoyment of tears. But M

ling to lose a note, it was so clear, so perfect, so imploring. A far more correct musician than Mary might have paused with equal admiration of the really scientific knowledge, with which the poor depressed-looki

o resumed her calm, demure manner, much to Mary's wonder, for she looked at her unweariedl

iet enough to hear a fine, though rather quavering, male vo

"I must be going, for he said he sh

y wash at Mrs. Simpson's; but I shall be terrible glad to see you

her, Margaret said: "Just step in and see

ry con