Hannah was evidently fond of talking. While I picked the fruit, and
she made the paste for the pies, she proceeded to give me sundry
details about her deceased master and mistress, and "the childer,"
as she called the young people.
Old Mr. Rivers, she said, was a plain man enough, but a gentleman,
and of as ancient a family as could be found. Marsh End had
belonged to the Rivers ever since it was a house: and it was, she
affirmed, "aboon two hundred year old--for all it looked but a
small, humble place, naught to compare wi' Mr. Oliver's grand hall
down i' Morton Vale. But she could remember Bill Oliver's father a
journeyman needlemaker; and th' Rivers wor gentry i' th' owd days o'
th' Henrys, as onybody might see by looking into th' registers i'
Morton Church vestry." Still, she allowed, "the owd maister was
like other folk--naught mich out o' t' common way: stark mad o'
shooting, and farming, and sich like." The mistress was different.
She was a great reader, and studied a deal; and the "bairns" had
taken after her. There was nothing like them in these parts, nor
ever had been; they had liked learning, all three, almost from the
time they could speak; and they had always been "of a mak' of their
own." Mr. St. John, when he grew up, would go to college and be a
parson; and the girls, as soon as they left school, would seek
places as governesses: for they had told her their father had some
years ago lost a great deal of money by a man he had trusted turning
bankrupt; and as he was now not rich enough to give them fortunes,
they must provide for themselves. They had lived very little at
home for a long while, and were only come now to stay a few weeks on
account of their father's death; but they did so like Marsh End and
Morton, and all these moors and hills about. They had been in
London, and many other grand towns; but they always said there was
no place like home; and then they were so agreeable with each other-
-never fell out nor "threaped." She did not know where there was
such a family for being united.
Having finished my task of gooseberry picking, I asked where the two
ladies and their brother were now.
"Gone over to Morton for a walk; but they would be back in half-an-
hour to tea."
They returned within the time Hannah had allotted them: they
entered by the kitchen door. Mr. St. John, when he saw me, merely
bowed and passed through; the two ladies stopped: Mary, in a few
words, kindly and calmly expressed the pleasure she felt in seeing
me well enough to be able to come down; Diana took my hand: she
shook her head at me.