But a look of sullen obstinacy gradually stole over the countenance of each, and one of them slowly muttered, "What served our fathers is good enough for us. We want no houses of timber and stone; we be Englishmen, and like our own fashions."
This was a fling at Miles, because they knew by report that he had lived some time in London, and thought it would be as well to let their future master know at once that they were not going to have any London ways forced upon them.
It was the first encounter with the crass ignorance and prejudice that arrayed itself against all change, even though it might be for the bettering of the lot of those who complained of it.
Miles, full of his Utopian dream, tried to explain to these young men the advantage of having a house firmly and compactly built, how the peasants would suffer less from cold and ague if the water did not drip off the walls on to the beds. It was a sufficient argument that the little hovels—that were not much more than magnified bee-hives—were good enough for their fathers, and ought to be good enough for them; and if they might only repair some of the cottages in the village, and bring the old people to live there, they would be thankful and content.
So the matter had to be settled in that way for the present, and Miles hastened to his sister's rooms to tell her and his wife what he had done.
"You do not want them to be content with the old mud cottages," said Cicely with a smile, for she began to understand her husband better than his sister could.
"Is it not right and just that the poor should be content with things as they are," asked Margery rather severely.
"Nay, they should not be content to be unjustly treated; and for the sake of the master who is unjust, they should do all that in them lies to make that master see and remedy the injustice. Perhaps it is too much to expect that those who have been glad to hide in a cave for shelter, should now aspire to a well-built house; and I shall have to bear with the mud-hovels for the present, until they can learn to appreciate better things."
"What is to come of it all?" asked Margery.
"I have promised to give these five work in putting the deserted cottages in order; and when they are ready, the old folks, and women, and children are to come back to the village. While they are working they must live in the barn, and have the scraps from the kitchen that would go to the dogs. It is an experiment, I know," he added, when Sir Harry held up his hands, "but I am beginning to find out that it is easier to commit a wrong than to set it right again. My father thought to make a great fortune in wool before he died, but he has left me such a store of worry and trouble that Cicely and I are not likely to be at a loss for employment for heart and hands for many a year to come."