Bristol Bells: A Story of the Eighteenth Century

by Emma Marshall

'Seen who?' Bet asked.

'The Squire. He is as hard as nails. He will have the money.'

'Why, Bryda, how did you get to the house?'

'I'll tell you, Bet; but,' she said, 'do get me a bit of something to eat and drink. I am so famished.'

'I wondered what had become of you, but I kept you a currant dumpling in the oven, and a bit of hash. I'll go and fetch it.'

'Yes, I would rather have it here.'

However distressed the young are, and however perplexed, they do not lose their appetite.

Bryda ate everything Betty brought her with keen relish, and drank a cup of cider. Then she said,—'I feel fit for anything now, and now I will tell you the whole story, and what I have resolved to do.'

Betty was a sympathetic listener, but she did not quite see why Bryda should go to Bristol.

'No one wants me here.'