“There, we’ll say no more about that since ye owned up at the last. I mid own up about summat too, as maybe ye wouldn’t like.”
Alice raised her head quickly, and Mrs Bolt dropped the poker, and turned round. Little Abel, disturbed by the clatter, moved uneasily in his sleep. The farmer looked from the women’s scared faces to that of the child, and all at once smoothed the waving hair from his daughter’s forehead and kissed her.
“I don’t know as I will, though,” he said. “Nay, some things is best forgot. I d’ ’low I’ll forget this.”
“An’ ye’ll forgive as well as forget?” said Alice. Mr Bolt disengaged himself gently, rose, and took a hurried turn about the room.
“I bain’t one what likes to go again’ my word,” he said after a moment’s hard thinking. “I said I’d never let your husband cross my door—” Both the anxious women exclaimed simultaneously; the farmer threw out his hand to command silence.
“Bide a bit,” he said, “it’ll work out all right. When I said that about your husband, Alice, I didn’t know he were going to be my carter. That’s a different story, bain’t it? I shouldn’t wonder but what my carter mid have to come in and out of the house for arders.”
As Alice went quickly towards him, her eyes shining and her bosom heaving, he burst into a roar of laughter; and then, becoming suddenly serious, caught her in his arms.
“There, write to your husband, love,” he said. “Write to en so soon as ye like. Tell him”—he paused, and then began to laugh again, but unsteadily, “tell him he can emmygrate back again, an’ while he be waitin’ for Jim to give up the carter’s place, we’ll make shift to spend a merry Christmas together.”
FARMER BARNES’ DILEMMA
Farmer Barnes stirred his tea vigorously and continuously for some minutes, raised the cup to his lips, with the spoon still in it, paused, tasted again, glancing severely over the edge at his daughter Maimie, and then remarked, in somewhat stern tones:—