ne of his earnings and more didn't his father. He was
under-keeper to Tudor Manor and very well thought on; but a miser of
speech, as well as cash, and none knew what was in his heart. He lived at
the north lodge of the big place and woke a lot of curiosity, as secrecy
will; but at eight-and-twenty years of age he was granted to be a man very
skilled in his business, and the head-keeper, Mr. Vallance, thought a lot
of him, and the two men under him went in fear. So also did the poachers,
for he was terrible skilled in their habits, and only his bringing up and
a patient father and mother had turned the balance and made him the
protector of game instead of a robber himself. So there it was: my eldest
had a heart of gold and no intellects, as often happens, while Rupert
hadn't no heart at all, but the Lord willed him wits above ordinary. He'd
come to supper of a Sunday and eat enormous; though never did we get
anything in return but emptiness and silence. He'd listen to his father
telling, and my John, being a hopeful man, never failed to hint that a few
shillings would help us over a difficult week and so on; but Rupert only
listened. My John, you see, was one of they unfortunates stricken with the
rheumatism that turns you into a living stone, so his usefulness was
pretty undergone afore he reached sixty and but for my little bit, saved
in service, and an occasional food-offering from my daughter's husband, it
would have gone hard with us. This my eldest son well understood and often
the tears would come into his eyes because he couldn't do nothing; but no
tear ever came into Rupert's eyes. Once I saw him stuff his father's pipe
out of his own tobacco pouch and only once; and we thought upon that
amazing thing for a month after and wondered how it happened.

Well, that's how it stood when the Almighty released my husband and in a
manner of speaking me also. He had been comforted by good friends during
his long illness and not only our eldest son, John, would often make time
to sit by him and have a tell, but there was the Vicar also and his
wife--peaceful and cheerful people, that my poor sufferer was always glad
to see. And besides them Mr. Sweet often came in and passed the news,
though owing to his high gift of caution he'd seldom tell you anything
that wasn't well known a month before. And Arthur Parable was not seldom
at the bedside, for he was among our oldest friends and tolerable cheerful
along with John, because