t hold of him on the quiet and
address a few words to him."

"I wish you'd break his neck for him, yes, I do, indeed I do. I could
tell you things as 'd make any one say hanging was too good for him."

And, encouraged to talk freely, Mrs. Goudie told Mavis and Dale, what
indeed she had often told them before, of the shocking badness of
Richard Bates and the ugly scenes that had taken place in this very
house; of how he bullied his father to give him money, storming and
raving like a lunatic when resisted; and of how the old fellow alone
by himself had groaned and wept and prayed. Mrs. Goudie had heard him,
after a most dreadful quarrel, praying out loud in his room up-stairs.

"An' believe me, sir, he was a praying for his son all the
time--imploring of the Lord to soften his heart like, and save him
from the hell-fire that his conduct asked for. You know, sir, he's a
very God-fearing man, Mr. Bates."

XVII

The action of the Dales in regard to Norah Veale did not pass
unnoticed. "They do tell me," said humble folk quite far afield, "that
Mr. Dale up to Vine-Pits hev adapted little Norrer Veale same as if
'twas his own darter; and I sin her myself ridin' to her schoolin' in
Mr. Dale's wagon. I allus held that Abe Veale was born a lucky one,
fer nobody ever comes adapting my childer; an' how hey he kep' out o'
jail all his days, if 'tisn't the luck?"

Nearer home, so striking an instance of kindness encouraged the
cottagers to do more freely what already they were doing with
considerable freedom: that is, to regard Vine-Pits Farm, and
especially the parts of it presided over by Mrs. Dale, as the proper
place to go in all moments of embarrassment or tribulation. Thus the
flagged path by the walnut tree, the wooden bench beneath the window,
and the open kitchen door, tended to become a sort of court where
Mavis had to listen to an ever-increasing number of applicants.

It used to be: "Muvver hey sent me to tell you at once, Mum, she isn't
no better but a good deal worse, and the doctor hev ordered her some
strong soup for to nourish her stren'th;" or "Mr. Scull's compliments,
and might he hev the loan of some butter agin;" or "Mrs. Craddock
wishes you, Mum, to read this letter which she hey written out of her
sickbed, and every word of it is no more than the truth, as I can
vouch for. Mr. Craddock in his cups last night punished her pore face
somethin' frightful. She can't go to her work, and there's not so