’It is a hard matter to be kept out of our rights,’ said Oliver. ’A beautiful property, a fine house and a fishpond—only a hundred pounds wanted to search the registers to get it.’
’No hundred pounds will come to us,’ said Honor. ’The clouds drop thunderbolts, not nuggets. So as well make up our minds to be where we are.’
’No, I can’t do that,’ said the carrier, plaiting vigorously. ’You haven’t got a bit of green silk, have you, to finish the lash with?’
’Whether from wishing or from working, no hundred pounds will come,’ continued the girl.
’And see what a rain of troubles has come on us,’ said the carrier. ’First comes your poor mother’s death, then the horse, now the lambs, and on top of all poor Charles.’
’More the reason why we should put aside all thought of a hundred pounds.’
’Providence never deserts the deserving,’ said Luxmore. ’I’m sure I’ve done my duty in that state o’ life in which I am. It is darkest before dawn.’
’Larry Nanspian makes great count of Kate,’ mused Luxmore, and then abruptly, ’confound it! I’ve plaited the lash wrong, and must unravel it again.’
’What will come of Larry’s liking for Kate? Will that bring us a hundred pounds and Coombe Park?’ asked Honor bluntly.
’I can’t quite say that. But I reckon it would be a rare thing to have her settled at Chimsworthy.’
’No,’ said Honor, ’not unless Larry alters. Chimsworthy grows weeds. The old man is more given to boasting than to work. Larry cares more to be flattered than to mind the plough.’
’I won’t have a Luxmore of mine marry out of her station. We must hold up our heads.’
’Of course we must,’ said Honor. ’What am I doing all day, thinking of all night, but how we may keep our heads upright?’
’What a mercy it would be not to be always fretting over ha’pence! If you and Kate were well married, what a satisfaction it would be to me and what a comfort all round.’
’Do not reckon on me,’ said Honor; ’I shall not marry, I have the children to care for. You do not want to drive me out of the house, do y’, father?’
’No, certainly not. But I should like to see you and Kate well married, Kate to Larry Nanspian and Chimsworthy, and you—well, you equally well placed. Then you might combine to help me to my own. Consider this, Honor! If we had Coombe Park, all our troubles would clear like clouds before a setting sun. Charles would no longer be a trouble to us. He shows his gentle blood by dislike for work. If he were not forced to labour he would make a proper gentleman. Why then, Honor, what a satisfaction to you to have been the saving, the making of your brother!’