CHAPTER XX
It was a cool evening in early summer, full of the leisurely peace of the country. The women were out of doors after much perspiring work within. It was too early for the shadows, yet a sensible relief to the day's ardour, which one was disposed to linger and enjoy, was evident in the tranquil atmosphere, and on the relaxed faces of those who lingered about the doors of the cottages, or turned the bleaching clothes on the hedges. Mrs Hankworth, in a fashionable bonnet and dark green dress, which proclaimed a ceremonial visit, was driving beside her husband in a light yellow trap, in the unusual direction of Anne Hilton's cottage. Her husband, with his eyes on the road, suddenly pulled up the horse.
"Now, where did you two come from?" he ejaculated, jumping from the trap and examining the backs of two enormous sows, who were munching and rooting in foreign ground with great satisfaction. At the sight of their enemy, a man, they began that lumbering but nimble trot, by which their tribe elude and disregard anything disagreeable.
"You better get up again," said Mrs Hankworth. "We'll keep up to them and perhaps turn 'em in somewhere. Miss Hilton's the nearest."
"I don't recognise 'em," said the farmer, springing up with agility and driving the horse carefully after the sows. "Some one must have bought them yesterday. We can call at one or two places on the way back and inquire. There's William Crowther," he added, standing up in the trap—"William!" he shouted, "do you see them sows? Stop 'em at Anne Hilton's sty. I don't know whose they are."
"I'll give them a little exercise!" shouted William, setting off in pursuit. Anne Hilton looked out from her door to see the farmer standing up to bar the road backwards, and shouting directions to William, while he at the other side dodged one sow after the other, and Mrs Hankworth sat back laughing with enjoyment.
Anne ran to open the yard-gate, and, with management, the sows saw no other opening and ran in at a trot, scattering the squealing hens as they did so.
"Of all the knowing things!" said Mrs Hankworth.
"Well, Miss Hilton, we're bringing you two sows and ourselves to visit you!" said the farmer. "First a baby and then two sows! You'll keep a foundling home very soon."
He jumped out, and his wife came slowly over the wheel.
"Somebody'll be sending out to inquire for them soon," said Anne. "I'm very pleased to see you, Mrs Hankworth."
"We came to say we'd send you milk for the baby every day," said Mrs
Hankworth, entering the kitchen. "You'll want yours for the butter."
"It's very kind of you," said Anne. "But he'll want a good deal."
"We've got seventy-five cows, you know," said Mrs Hankworth, with a contented laugh. "He'll not make much difference among 'em. Where is he? Bless him," she said, as she saw the baby staring at her from the wide wooden chair, in which he was tied.
"A fine baby," said the farmer with an ultimate tone.
"He is a nice one!" said his wife. "I must take him," she said, picking up the baby and turning him face downwards over her arm while she seated herself. She spread open her knees and laid him, docile to her practised handling, across them. Anne watched her with the air of one taking a lesson.
"Did you have much trouble to get him?" asked Mrs Hankworth.
"No, very little," said Anne. "There were some papers to sign, and one or two other things, but I believe they're generally glad to board out children if they can."
"Well, he's a healthy child. Oh! I don't know anything that made me so full as to hear that poor girl had slipped away like that. I didn't get over it for some days. You remember the last time I saw you, I was intending to go and see her."
"Yes, we were all making plans," said Anne.
"Here's Mrs Crowther," said the farmer. "Come to see the baby, too, I expect. I'll just go and see how the sows is doing," he said, approaching the door.
"Well, Mr and Mrs Hankworth, I didn't expect to see you here," said Mrs Crowther, coming in. "I came to see how the baby was getting on. Eh, how they do get hold of you, don't they, little things. I must have him a minute," she said, taking him from Mrs Hankworth's knee. "No, you're not the first baby I've had hold of," she added to the little creature, who twisted about with protesting noises. She smacked its soft thighs, and held its warm head against her cheek. "I'm right down silly over a baby!" she exclaimed, laying it back on Mrs Hankworth's knee.
"We can't have any more of our own," said the latter, "we have to make the best of other people's."
Anne took a tissue-paper parcel from the shelf, and opening it, showed a blue cashmere smock with a ribbon.
"I was so pleased," she said. "Mrs Phillipson's eldest girl that's to be married next month brought it in yesterday. It shows how you misjudge people. When I went to see them, they seemed so hard upon poor Jane. But she brought that pretty frock she'd made herself for the baby. She's a good-looking girl, and she'll make a good wife."
"You think on these things at such a time," said Mrs Hankworth. "All kinds o' little things you never thought of before come into your mind when you're going to be married. But it was nice of her. I shall think better of that girl after this."
"That sounds like Mary," said Anne, looking round the open door. "Yes it is. Come in, Mary. You'll find some friends here."
Mrs Hankworth laughed uproariously. "The baby's holding a reception," she said, her huge form shaking.
"It's Mrs Hankworth, I know," said Mary.
"And Mrs Crowther," interposed the latter herself; "we're making sillies of ourselves over the baby. Here, sit down and take him, Mary."
She set Mary in the chair which she had vacated, and laid the baby on her knees carefully placing the blind woman's hands over the little body.
"There's not much of him," said Mary. "What does he like? This?" And with her hands spread upon the child, she moved her knees backwards and forwards, clicking her heels on the floor.
"I could soon do it," she said, with a satisfied chuckle.
"I'm sure you could," said Anne.
"It was Peter Molesworth that told me you was here," said Mary, "so I thought I'd come too."
"Whatever do you think that Peter Molesworth came out with in the class the other day?" said Mrs Hankworth. "We was having as nice a meeting as you could wish, and then Peter gets up to give his experience. He says, 'I thank the Lord I've got peace in my home and a praying mother' (she's not much o' that, I thought to myself); and then he went on, 'You know, when I think of the troubles of others in serving Christ, I cannot bear. There's a poor woman I know,' he says, 'that's trying to serve Christ, and whenever she kneels down to say her prayers, her husband begins to tickle her feet.' Did you ever hear of anybody coming out with such a thing before? 'I think this door wants oiling, Mrs Hankworth,' he says to me as we was going out. 'Nay, Peter,' I says, 'it's thee that wants oiling.' 'Why, Mrs Hankworth, what's the matter?' he says. 'Whatever made you come out with such a thing in the meeting,' I says. 'Why, what was wrong with it?' he says. 'Oh, well!' I says, 'if you don't know yourself, I can't tell you,' I says. He's a bright one is Peter Molesworth."
"Are you ready, Mother?" shouted Mr Hankworth, putting his head in the door. "John Unsworth thinks the sows belongs to Mr Phillipson. He saw him bringing some home last night. We can take him on the way home."
"I'm coming," said Mrs Hankworth, rising slowly. "If there's anything you need, any advice or that, I'll be very pleased to give it you. Let me give him a kiss." "You're a beauty, that's what you are," she said, kissing the baby and giving it back to Mary.
"I must go too," said Mrs Crowther. "I'll send down some old flannel to-morrow, Anne. One of my girls'll come in and help you sometimes. It's well they should get used to a baby."
"She'll not be able to stop away herself," said Mrs Hankworth, shrewdly, and laughing together, both women went out, disputing amiably as to whether Mrs Crowther would take a seat in the trap and be driven as far as the cross roads.
The blind woman was feeling carefully the downy head of the baby.
"He's as soft as a kitten," she said. "I could spare several eggs a week out of the basket," she added, "if they'd be any use. I don't know much about babies. My brother was bigger than me when we was at home, and, of course, since then I've not had much to do with children."
Anne watched the two so helpless and confident. Mary rocked her knees steadily, and the child's head lay contentedly.
"I believe you've put him to sleep," said Anne. "Shall I put him in the cradle?"
"No, let me have him," said Mary, "I've never nursed a baby before."