“Josepha! Thou art my good angel!”
“I am thy sister. We are both Annis folk. We were both rooted in the soil of this bit of England. We had the same good father and mother, the same church, and the same dear old home. God forbid we should iver forget that! No, we can not! These memories run with our blood, and throb in our hearts. All that is mine is thine. Thou art dear to me as my awn life. Thy son and daughter are my son and daughter. My money is thy money, to its last penny. Now, wilt thou hev me for thy partner?” The squire had buried his face in his hands, and Josepha knew he was hiding his feelings from everyone but God, and she stepped to the window and drew up the shade, and let the sunshine flood the room. As she did so, the squire called to himself—“Be of good courage, Antony!” And he rose quickly, and so met his sister coming back to her chair, and took her in his arms, and kissed her and said: “Josey, dear, there was a load on my heart I was hardly able to bear; thou hes lifted it, and I love and thank thee! We will work together, and we will show Yorkshire that landed gentlefolk can do a bit of business, above all their ideas, and above all thou can imagine it pleases me, that I may then redeem my promises to the men that hev worked so long, and so faithfully for me.”
And then it was Josepha that had to dry her eyes as she said: “Thy kiss, Antony, was worth all I hev promised. It was the signing of our contract.”
“I felt, Josey, when I entered this house, that my life had come to an end, and that I could only write ‘defeated’ over it.”
“Thy real life begins at this hour. Thy really fine business faculties, corroded with rust and dust of inaction, will yet shine like new silver. There is no defeat, except from within. And the glad way in which thou can look forward, and take up a life so different to that thou hes known for more than fifty years, shows plainly that you can, and will, redeem every fault of the old life. As thou art so busy and bothered to-night, come to-morrow and I will hev my lawyer, and banker, also a first rate factory architect, here to meet thee.”
“At what hour?”
“From ten o’clock to half-past twelve are my business hours. If that time is too short, we will lengthen it a bit. Dick has asked me to tell thee something thou ought to know, but which he cannot talk to thee about.”
“Is it about Faith Foster?”
“Not it! Varry different.”
“What, or who, then?”