“It was Mary after a’ that saved him. I nobbut prayed night and day. She brought the magistrate and t’ constable. Men don’t count much on prayer.”
“Dear Martha, God sends by whom he will send. If he had thought it best, you would have got the order. God looks afar off—for the years that are to come—when you may be where all tears are wiped away.”
“I know, I know.”
“Don’t let Ben think you grudge him the fullest measure of his happiness and deliverance. Mothers must have a deal to bear. The best of children are blind, I think.”
Martha was crying quietly. “He was t’ last left me. I hev carried him i’ my heart for months, till my heart is fair empty without him. I wanted him a little bit to mysen. She’s a good girl, is Mary, and I’m trying hard to love her; but I’ve got a weight on me that’s bad to bide.”
“If it’s a bitter cup, drink it, Martha.”
“My lass, I’ll do that. There’ll be a blessing in t’ bottom o’ it, never fear. I’m nobbut standing as a bairn does wi’ a cup o’ medicine; and when a thing is hard to take, its nobbut human nature to say it’s none nice.”
“I am come to say ‘good-bye’ Martha; I don’t want to leave you in tears.”
“Nay then is ta! Surely to goodness thou isn’t going in t’ dead o’ winter?”
“Yes. We leave Hallam to-morrow.”