always knew he'd not stop in the
country. He was always for the things that was doing in the town at
meetings and unions, and he took no interest in farming or country work.
It was always railways or politics with him. He was the first to go,"
said Mrs Crowther, her face taking that fixed serious expression,
betraying the inward attitude which in another woman would have meant
tears. "You've a lot of work to do when they're little, but you can shut
the door at night and know they're all inside with you; but there's a
day comes to gentle as well as simple, when you shut the door at night
and some of them's outside. Sometimes you wake in the night and you
wonder if there's anything more you could have done for 'em, and you vex
yourself a lot more over them when they've gone from you than you ever
do when they're with you. You have a feeling when they're at home, that
if they want you you're there. But it's another matter when they can't
get at you for all their wanting or yours either for that matter."

"Be thankful you've been spared the sorrow of one going astray," said
Anne. "It's a proud thing to have a lot of sons all honest, good men."

As if she had divined Anne's thoughts, or something in her words had
suggested it to her, Mrs Crowther said suddenly--

"You've heard about that Burton getting hold of Jane Evans, have you?"

"I've just come back from there now," said Anne. "I only heard of it the
other day, and I went to see if I could get her away. I blame myself
sadly for its having happened."

"He's a bad effect in the country, that Burton, with his horses and
money," said Mrs Crowther decidedly. "It's bad for young men to see
money got so easily. He doesn't drink, I fancy. At least I said to
Matthew, 'What's wrong with that Burton, does he drink?' 'No,' he says.
'At least, I don't think so,' he says; 'but he takes it out in eating.
He's an easy liver,' he says. And what a foolish girl that is to give
away her character for a man like him. If she was in trouble she might
have come to any of us, and we'd have done anything in reason."

"I suppose that was just it," said Anne. "He was there before we were
ready, and the poor girl thought he was her only friend."

"Well! she's a foolish girl," repeated Mrs Crowther, in the tone of one
who having young people to protect could take no part in excuses. "Why,
there's that young Wilkinson, that's booking-clerk at the station, said
to our John, 'I was a bit sweet on