omen were all hotly angry with Jeph
for going off and leaving his young brothers and sisters to shift for
themselves.

"He was ever an idle fellow," said one, "always running after the
soldiers and only wanting an excuse."

"Best thing he could do for himself or them," growled old Green.

"Eh! What, Gaffer Green! To go off without a word or saying by your
leave to his poor little sister before his good father be cold in his
grave," exclaimed a whole clamour of voices.

"Belike he knew what a clack of women's tongues there would be, and
would fain be out of it," replied the old man shrewdly.

It was a clamour that oppressed poor Patience and made her feel sick
with sorrow and noise. Everybody meant to be very kind and pitiful, but
there was a great deal too much of it, and they felt quite bewildered
by the offers made them. Farmer Mill's wife, of Elmwood Cross, two miles
off, was reported by her sister to want a stout girl to help her, but
there was no chance of her taking Rusha or the baby as well as Patience.
Goody Grace could not undertake the care of Ben unless she could have
Patience, because she was so often called away from home, nor could she
support them without the cows. Smith Blane might have taken Stead, but
his wife would not hear of being troubled with Rusha. And Dame Oates
might endure Rusha for the sake of a useful girl like Patience, but
certainly not the baby. It was an utter Babel and confusion, and in the
midst of it all, Patience crept up to her brother who stood all the
time like a stock, and said "Oh! Stead, I cannot give up Ben to anyone.
Cannot we all keep together?"

"Hush, Patty! That's what I mean to do, if you will stand by me," he
whispered, "wait till all the clack is over."

And there he waited with Patience by his side while the parish seemed
to be endlessly striving over them. If one woman seemed about to make a
proposal, half-a-dozen more fell on her and vowed that the poor orphans
would be starved and overworked; till she turned on the foremost with
"And hadn't your poor prentice lad to go before the justices to shew the
weals on his back?" "Aye, Joan Stubbs, and what are you speaking up
for but to get the poor children's sheep? Hey, you now, Stead
Kenton--Lack-a-day, where be they?"

For while the dispute was at its loudest and hottest, Stead had taken
Rusha by the hand, made a sign to Patience, and the four deserted
children had quietly gone away together into the copsewood