They had, by this time, reached the hollow between the two hills, where a great many cottages were situated. About them was an appearance of neglect, that is, at all times, disagreeable to contemplate. In most parts, the thatch had become blackened by the weather, and here and there pieces of it had been blown off by the high winds, or were kept in place only by heavy stones laid upon the roof. In some places the walls, which bounded the little gardens, had been suffered to crumble down--loose stones lying in the gaps, but no effort seemed to have been made to replace them. A ditch ran along the road, partially covered with long grass and weeds; but the glimpses here and there afforded of it, told that it was used as a receptacle for the drains of that part of the parish--and a noxious stench arose from it exercising a baneful influence, as might be seen by the pale faces of the children who played about it. Added to this, there was a desponding tone over the general features of the place, which might have accounted for the wastes of ground which might be seen, here and there, covered with weeds, rather than converted to any useful purpose. "Surely," said Clair, attracting his uncle's attention, "this self-neglect cannot be attributed to Hargrave?" "Not altogether," replied Mr. Ware, "this is an evil which I hope time will remedy; there is, indeed, no excuse for it; yet the reason I believe simply to be, that the people, losing their accustomed stimulant, arising from a resident family, and depressed by the low and uncertain wages they receive from an oppressive bailiff, have not yet learned to take care of themselves; but yet I hope, from day to day," said the good man, looking round, "it would not do for me to despond as well as the rest." Stepping over a small plank that crossed the ditch, they entered one of the cottages. The interior presented a kind of untidy comfort; a large heap of fuel lay in one corner, and a bed was at one side, and seemed used as a substitute for a seat during the day. The windows, where panes had been broken, were filled up with dirty rags; two or three children were playing about with naked feet, and their mother, a remarkably pretty young woman, was working at the darkened window. By the fire was seated a strong hale young man, with his hands upon his knees, contemplating it with gloomy fixedness. A red cap ornamented his head, and partly shaded a pair of dark eyes, and a scowling countenance. Mr. Ware could not but enter the cottage with the consciousness that he was not particularly welcome; yet this did not render his visits less frequent. "Well, Martin," said he, "I am sorry to see you at home, for I fear you are out of work." The man answered, without rising from his seat--