CHAPTER II.✦

FROM HALL TO COTTAGE.

FOUR years at a great public school had taught me to think and plan for myself in many of the lesser matters of daily life, and encouraged in me a spirit of independence. I had been sent there almost immediately after my mother's death, my father having decided that Jack would be miserable at Lint Hall all by himself—that is, with no one but him.

"I shall have no heart to entertain company, even were it fitting for gaiety to shoulder out sorrow; and if the lad had young companions here, the sound of their voices would make me miserable. If there had been more children, they might have cheered each other, and roused me in time; as it is, I shall be better alone, and Jack far happier at school," was my father's decision.

It was the best for me, no doubt; and though I did not forget my mother, there was nothing around me, as there would have been at home, to keep the knowledge of my loss constantly before me. When the holidays came, I was more frequently with the Burfords than at Lint Hall, and my father had become so absorbed in the speculations which led to his ruin, that he did not miss or want me. I was too young to be made a confidant of, and, except for occasional hints of greater wealth in prospect, I was told nothing.

All these things combined to foster a self-reliant spirit, and before Mr. Burford asked what I should do in the meanwhile, I was prepared with an answer which surprised him not a little. It was a written calculation, and though not put down in a very methodical way, was eminently satisfactory to myself:—

"Available capital to last twenty-six weeks, £12, 10s. Owing at Rugby, 10s. Half-year's interest, cousin Dorothy, £1, 2s. 6d. Deduct these, and I have £10, 17s. 6d. left to call my own."

This sum I allotted as follows:—Lodgings, £3, 5s.; food and all other expenses, £7, 12s. 6d.

As Mr. Burford ran his eye over the paper, I said—

"I shall be able to live, even if I get nothing to do, but I hope to earn something beside. I am resolved not to be idle, but will try to go on improving myself, or at least keep up what I have learned."

"My dear lad, what decent lodgings could you get for half-a-crown a week?" asked the lawyer.

"A clean little bedroom all to myself at Jabez Harwood's. Old Jabez made my first kite, and taught me how to fly it. I have gone in and out of his little place ever since I can remember. His wife Betsy told me, when I was at home last holidays, that she wanted another lodger to pay half-a-crown a week for her parlour. She had one for a year, a youth rather older than myself, who was booking-clerk at the station. She was glad he was going to a better post, because he was steady and a good son who did with less himself that he might help his widowed mother, but she was very sorry to lose him and the regular weekly half-crown, which was of great use to her. Jabez is only a labourer, and has never been equal to full work since his accident."

"I remember; the old man was driving Farmer Whitehead's trap home for him, and the horse bolted. He was thrown out and badly shaken and bruised. But Betsy could get working-men lodgers who would pay her half-a-crown a week. Her cottage is no fit place for you, Jack."

"Betsy says that, seeing she would have to do for whoever lives under her roof, she would prefer being servant to a gentleman, because she finds such-like the easiest to please. She will be very good to me, I am sure, and the terms and place are in accordance with my means. I shall be able to pay my way and live. Betsy told me how she used to contrive for her former lodger. He had vegetables from the cottage garden, and she marketed for him, and washed and mended his clothes. She kept account of all she spent; and a very funny way she had of doing it, but it was easy to understand. And I found that, beside the half-crown for lodgings, the clerk's other expenses averaged five-and-threepence per week. I shall have rather over sevenpence left for pocket-money."

Mr. Burford gave a groan as he listened, and was far more moved at the prospect before me than I was—outwardly at any rate. I purposely spoke in a business-like, matter-of-fact way, the better to conceal the heart-sinking of which I was profoundly conscious, in spite of my brave front.

"It will never do, Jack. I could not bear to think of your father's son reduced to such shifts and living under a thatched roof."

"The roof is sound and weather-proof," I replied. "Besides, I shall be on the ground-floor. The old folks sleep in the large chamber that runs over the house-place and the parlour. Jabez is a first-rate thatcher, and takes care to have a dry shelter."

"You will need clothes and more pocket-money. You must not be so proud, my boy, but let me be your banker until you have begun to climb the ladder of prosperity," said Mr. Burford.

"I have plenty of clothes to serve me for years," I answered, quite determined to make them do.

"You will grow out of them, Jack."

"Not for some time, Mr. Burford."

I gave a gulp before I could add, "If I do, there are some of my father's. You told me you had arranged for me to have them. And there are my mother's watch and a few ornaments that are really mine, you know, though I never mean to part with them if I can help it."

"What will you let me do for you, Jack?"

"If you could speak for me to some one who wants a—" Here I hesitated. What could I say? What was I fit for? The thought crossed my mind that there were scores of lads, brought up in cottage homes, whose qualifications for immediate employment were far superior to mine. My writing, for instance, though legible enough, was far from good, and had always an untidy look with it. I am by no means sure that I did not consider it almost vulgar to write a good hand.

It was all very well for clerks, and tradesmen, but not for the heir of Lint Hall.

"A what? Tell me, Jack. There is nothing I will not do for you, if I can," replied Mr. Burford.

"I mean, that I want work of some kind. Oh, Mr. Burford! Am I fit for any place, do you think?"

"I would offer to take you into my office, but there are reasons why I am just now unable to do this."

"Mrs. Burford again," thought I. "The office is too near the house; and this time the lady has been consulted before the husband ventured to do what was in his heart."

"Thank you all the same," I said, "but I would rather be somewhere else if possible. I wonder if I could get such a place on the railway as the Harwoods' lodger had. It does not seem to want a very clever person to give out tickets."

"If you would take a post of the kind, I think I could get one for you; perhaps the very same which that youth filled. His successor has not turned out well, and is about to leave. It is singular that I heard this to-day. I will use my interest for you, Jack, and have little doubt of success."

Mr. Burford's face brightened, and my heart felt all the lighter as I retired to prepare for my change of residence.

That night saw me installed as Jabez Harwood's lodger and the occupant of the little parlour which was to serve as sitting-room and bedroom, though I was to take my meals in the house-place. This was a good-sized, cheerful apartment, opening into the garden, and kept in a state of spotless cleanliness by the neat hands of Betsy.

Clothes-washing and dish-washing were done in winter-time beneath a lean-to shed at the end of the cottage, in summer, on a wide wooden bench by the hedge-side, as being cooler and more airy than the tiny shed.

There was an outer door to the parlour, but it was always fastened and nearly hidden by the end of the bed which was placed against it. The rude staircase was between the two apartments, but all corners entered by the house-place, and passed through it to the parlour or the room above, as the case might be.

My room had a good-sized window looking into the garden, and a smaller, containing only four panes, at the end, overlooking a pretty lane. One pane swung on hinges and would open, so good ventilation was secured by its means.

The cottage was one of the oldest on the Lint Hall estate, and a favourite plan of mine had been to persuade my father to pull it down and build Jabez a new house on the site of it. I had ventured to name the subject, and been told to wait a while, but in such a kindly way that I felt sure the new dwelling would be built some time, when those dreams of increased wealth became realities.

I told Jabez this, and was a little pained to find that he did not share my enthusiasm, but said, "The old place will serve my time, Master John. I've lived here so many years that I seem to know every straw in the thatch and every twig in the hedge. I hardly think I should sit down comfortable in any chimney-corner but this, even if it were a better one."

In my secret heart I then resolved that whenever I became master of Lint Hall, I should let the old man have the cottage rent free; just as though it were likely that the old man would be living after my father, a man barely forty, and with every prospect of long life, was gone.