Great Britain -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Ireland -- Fiction; Love stories; Social classes -- Fiction
"Oh, Mr. Fitzgerald," said Clara, laughing, "I shan't be able to
breathe with all that on me."
"Look at Mary and Emmeline," said he; "they have got twice as much.
You don't know how cold it is."
"You had better have the fur close to your body," said Aunt Letty;
"look here;" and she showed that her gloves were lined with fur, and
her boots, and that she had gotten some nondescript furry article of
attire stuck in underneath the body of her dress.
"But you must let me have them a little looser, Mr. Fitzgerald," said
Clara; "there, that will do," and then they all got upon the car
and started. Herbert was perhaps two minutes after them before he
mounted; but when he left the hall the man was still sitting there;
for the servant had not yet come back from his father's room.
But the clatter of his horse's hoofs was still distinct enough at
the hall door when the servant did come back, and in a serious tone
desired the stranger to follow him. "Sir Thomas will see you," said
the servant, putting some stress on the word will.
"Oh, I did not doubt that the least in the world," said Mr. Mollett,
as he followed the man along the passage.
The morning was very cold. There had been rainy weather, but it now
appeared to be a settled frost. The roads were rough and hard, and
the man who was driving them said a word now and again to his young
master as to the expediency of getting frost nails put into the
horse's shoes. "I'd better go gently, Mr. Herbert; it may be he might
come down at some of these pitches." So they did go gently, and at
last arrived safely at Berryhill.
And very busy they were there all day. The inspection of the site
for the mill was not their only employment. Here also was an
establishment for distributing food, and a crowd of poor half-fed
wretches were there to meet them. Not that at that time things
were so bad as they became afterwards. Men were not dying on the
road-side, nor as yet had the apathy of want produced its terrible
cure for the agony of hunger. The time had not yet come when the
famished living skeletons might be seen to reject the food which
could no longer serve to prolong their lives.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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