Nick became confidential.
“I be afeard o’ nothink ’cept they broody hens o’ Mrs. Rockram’s. You know I be soft, zur, don’t ’ee?”
“Nonsense! We shall make a man of you yet, Nick.”
Nick considered this, with his head on one side. Then he whispered:
“I be soft along o’ my lady.”
Grimshaw asked Pawley to explain. With some reluctance, Pawley repeated what he had said to Cicely, with these additions:
“Nick’s mother, just before he was born, lost her two little girls of diphtheria. The boy was born wanting. Timothy Farleigh has never got over it. Lady Selina had just buried the Squire. In your opinion, Grimshaw, could mental suffering so affect and afflict an unborn child?”
“It might,” Grimshaw replied.
“Ever since Timothy Farleigh has smouldered with resentment.”
Grimshaw nodded. He had heard about Agatha Farleigh from John Exton. Agatha was now working in London, earning good wages, but Timothy, at the ale-house, accused Lady Selina of hounding a clever girl out of her village.