Thomas started slightly, and his wife observed him as
sharply as the dim light permitted.
"Thyrza!" she raised her voice peremptorily. "What are you doing there?"
Another laugh, and the girl from whom it came ran forward into the
lamp-light, threading her way through the packing-cases, and followed by
a small fox-terrier who was jumping round her.
"Doin'? There's nowt more to do as I know on. An' I'm most droppin'."
So saying the girl jumped lightly on one of the larger packing-cases and
sat there, her feet dangling.
Mrs. Dixon looked at her with disapproval, but held her tongue. Thyrza
was not strictly her underling, though she was helping in the housework.
She was the daughter of the small farmer who had been for years the
tenant of part of the old house, and had only just been evicted in
preparation for the return of the owner of the property with his foreign
wife. If Thyrza were too much scolded she would take her ways home, and,
as her parents spoilt her, she would not be coerced into returning. And
how another "day-girl" was to be found in that remote place, where,
beyond the farm, a small house belonging to the agent, and a couple of
cottages, the nearest house to the Tower was at least three miles away,
Mrs. Dixon did not know.
"My word! what a night!" said Thyrza with another laugh a little stifled
by the sweets she had just transferred from her pocket to her mouth.
"They'll be drowned oot afore they get here."
As she spoke, a wild gust flung itself over the house, as though trying
its strength against the doors and windows, and the rain swished against
the panes.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25