He
was the loveliest baby I've ever seen, and later on I think the
handsomest boy. Nobody ever looked at my Billy or George when Richard
was about. And now--well, I needn't tell you, young lady, what he's like
now. I'm glad I've met you. I've just been up at Mrs. More's."

"Who is Mrs. More?" asked Marion heavily.

"The new people who have the small-holding at Coltsfoot the Brights had
before. I think he used to be a clerk, and came into a little money and
bought the holding, and now they're finding it very difficult to get
along."

"This small-holding business ought to be stopped."

"Why?" asked Ellen peevishly. Marion seemed to reject everything, and
she was sure that she had seen small-holdings recommended in Labour
Party literature. "I thought it was sound."

"Not here. Speculators buy up big farms and cut them into small-holdings
and sell them to townspeople, who starve on them or sell them at a loss.
The land's wasted for good, and all because it can't be farmed again
once it's been cut up. To all intents and purposes it's wiped off the
map. It's a scandal."

"It is a shame," agreed the old lady. "I often say that something ought
to be done. Well, the poor woman's lost her baby."

"Bad business," said Marion.

"Such a pretty little girl. Six months. I've been up seeing them putting
her in the coffin. The mother was so upset. I was with her all day
yesterday."

"I've seen the place," said Marion. "As ugly as one of the Hallelujah
Army shanties. What this bit of country's coming to! And Coltsfoot was a
good farm when I was a girl."

"It isn't very nice now certainly. You see, now that the other people
have failed and gone away, it's difficult for them to get loads taken
down as there isn't a proper road. Before, they did it co-operatively
among themselves. But this winter they say they've been without coal
quite often, and the baby's been ill all the time. I think Mrs. More's
been terribly lonely. Poor little woman, she's got no friends here. All
her people live in the Midlands, she tells me. I don't think they can
afford a holiday, so the next few months will be hard for her, I'm
afraid."

"Incompetent people, I should think, from what you can see of the
garden. Annoying to think that that used to be good wheat-land."

"They've never liked the place. They were terrified of losing the child
because of the damp from the moment it came. She's quite broken by it
all, poor thing."

Marion began to draw