“Some on ’em; of course that’s Missie’s doing--she’s so friendly with ’em, so nice and so gay; but a good few of the Ottinge girls is of no account. There’s Mrs. Watkins with three big young women on her hands; they won’t stay in service at no price, and they won’t do a turn at home. Their mother holds the house together, and has them, as well as her man, to work for, poor soul!” “Oh, Watkins, he does ’is share as carrier,” protested Tom. “I don’t know what _you_ call a share, Tom,” said his mother sharply. “I know of a cold winter’s morning she gets up and milks the cows, and takes the milk round herself, and comes back, and there’s not a fire lit, and them four lazy sacks are all still abed--ay, and asleep. I’ve gone in of an afternoon, too, and seen Maudie and Brenda stretched on their backs a-reading penny novels--it’s all they care for, that and dress, and young men; if I was their mother I’d let out at them!” and she paused for breath. “_I_ never had no schoolin’, and I’m not sorry; laziness and light readin’ is the plague.” “Well, Watkins--he don’t read overmuch.” “No, but he smokes and drinks, and is main idle. You know yourself I offered him the good grass off the orchard for the cutting, for his horse--lovely grass it were, too--but it were too much trouble, and he grazes the poor beast along the road in every one’s way instead. And there’s Jake Roberts--his father left him a fine business as wheelwright and carpenter, and he has let it all go over to Shrapton-le-Steeple ’cause it was too much fag, and he lives on his wife’s washing.” “Ye see how my mother is down on Ottinge,” said Tom, with another wink, “not being an Ottinge woman herself.” “No, thank the Lord! I’m from another part, and all for work. But I’ll say this--that Ottinge is the healthiest spot ye ever put yer foot in. We gets the free air for miles over the pastures, and at the back we’re in shelter from the hills between us and Brodfield--that’s the big town ten miles off.” “So you have no doctor?” said Wynyard. “Indeed we have, and a good doctor too; there is not much call for him or for medicines. Ottinge isn’t as big as it looks; though so rambling and showy, it’s real small.” “Are there many gentry around?” inquired the stranger.