The Carbonels

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. MISSED AND MOURNED.

"Nor deem the irrevocable Past

As wholly wasted, wholly vain."

Longfellow.

"Be they Gobblealls not coming home?" asked Nanny Barton, as she stood at her gate, while some of her neighbours came slowly out of church, about two years later.

"My man, he did ask Shepherd Tomkins," said Betsy Seddon, "and all the answer he got was, `You don't desarve it, not you.' As if my man had gone out with that there rabble rout!"

"And I'm sure mine only went up to see what they were after, and helped to put out the fire beside."

"Ay," said Cox, behind her, "but not till the soldiers were come."

"Time they did come!" said Seddon. "Rain comes through the roof, and that there Lawyer Brent won't have nothing done to it till the captain comes home."

"Yes," added Morris, "and when I spoke to him about my windows, as got blown in, he said `cottages were no end of expense, and we hadn't treated them so as they would wish to come back nohow.'"

"Think of their bearing malice!" cried Nanny Barton.

"I don't believe as how they does," responded the other Nanny. "They have sent the coals and the blankets all the same."

"Bear malice!" said Mrs Truman, who had just walked up. "No, no. Why, Parson Harford have said over and over again, when he gave a shilling or so or a meat order, to help a poor lady that was ill, that 'twas by madam's wish."

"And Governess Thorpe, she has the bag of baby-linen and half a pound of tea for any call," said Mrs Spurrell.

"But one looks for the friendly word and the time of day," sighed Betsy Seddon.

"The poor children, they don't half like their school without the ladies to look in," said Mrs Truman. "It is quite a job to get them there without Miss Sophy to tell them stories."

"I can't get mine to go at all on Sundays," said Nanny Morris.

"And," added Betsy Seddon, "I'm right sure my poor Bob would never have 'listed for a soldier if the captain had been at home to make Master Pucklechurch see the rights of things, and not turn him off all on a suddent."

"Master Pucklechurch, he don't believe they are never coming back," said Widow Mole, who had just come that way as an evening walk with her children. "He says little miss, and madam too, have their health so much better out there, that they won't like to come home. And yet they have made the place like a picture. I was up there to help Sue Pucklechurch clean it up, and 'tis just a pleasure to see all the new outhouses and sheds, as you might live in yourself, and well off too."

"And that it should all be for them Pucklechurches," sighed Seddon.

"I heerd tell," said Mrs Truman, "that Lawyer Brent was to come and live in the house, and that was why they are making it so nice."

On this there arose a general wail of lamentation, and even of indignation. Nobody loved Lawyer Brent, who was a hard, if a just, man, anxious for his employer's good, but inclined, in spite of all cautions, to grind the tenants. To hear of his coming to Greenhow was dismal news to all concerned, and there was such a buzz of doleful inquiries that Mr Harford stopped on his way home to ask what was the matter.

"Oh no," he said, when he heard. "Captain and Mrs Carbonel are coming home in the spring, only they wished to travel slowly, so as to see something of foreign parts. You need not be afraid. We shall have them back again, and I hope nobody will be as foolish as before. I am sure they have quite forgiven."

And, on a fine spring day, the bells were ringing at the church, and everybody stood out at the cottage doors, curtseying and bowing with delight and welcome; and Mrs Carbonel and Miss Sophia and Miss Mary, looking rosy, healthy, and substantial, and even little Master Edmund was laughing and nodding, and looking full of joy. While the captain walked up with Mr Harford, and greeted every one with kindly, hearty words. No one could doubt that they were glad to be at home again, and after all that had come and gone, that they felt that these were their own people whom they loved.