“I knew, my dear one, that thou was bothered in thy mind and that thy thoughts were on Bristol and other places that hev been fired by the rioters; and I wanted to tell thee of something that happened more than a week ago. Dost thou remember a girl called Sarah Sykes?”
“I do that—a varry big, clumsy lass.”
“Never mind her looks. When Josepha was at Annis last summer she noticed how much the girl was neglected and she took her part with her usual temper, gave her nice clothes, and told her she would find something for her to do in London. So when we were all very busy and I was tired out, Josepha sent her a pound and bid her come to us as quick as she could. Well, the first thing we knew the lass was in Jane’s house and she soon found out that Joshua Swale was the leader of the crowd that are mostly about the Crescent where it stands. And it wasn’t long before Sarah had told Israel all thou hed done and all thou was still doing for thy weavers; and then a man, who had come from the little place where thou left a ten-pound note, told of that and of many other of thy kind deeds, and so we found out that thy name stood very high among all the Political Unions; and that these Unions have made themselves well acquainted with the sayings and doings of all the old hand loom employers; and are watching them closely, as to how they are treating their men, and if any are in The House, how they are voting.”
“I wish thou hed told me this when thou first heard it. I wonder thou didn’t do so.”
“If I could have managed a quiet talk with thee I would have done that; but thou has lived in The House of Commons all of the last week, I think.”
“And been varry anxious and unhappy, Annie. Let me tell thee that!”
“Well, then, dearie, happiness is a domestic pleasure. Few people find her often outside their own home. Do they, Antony?”
“My duty took me away from thee and my own home. There hev been constant night sessions for the last week and more.”
“I know, and it has been close to sun-up when thou tumbled sleepy and weary into thy bed. And I couldn’t wait until thou got thy senses again. I hed to go with Josepha about something or other, or I had to help Jane with her preparations, and so the days went by. Then, also, when I did get a sight of thee, thou could not frame thysen to talk of anything but that weary Bill and it made me cross. I thought thou ought to care a little about Katherine’s affairs, they were as important to her as The Bill was to thee.”
“I was caring, Annie. I was full of care and worry about Kitty. I was that. And I needn’t hev been so miserable if thou hed cared for me.”