Mrs. Crump

“ Rishwald had been much at Crump of late, bent on friendly terms and even more, and he was hardly likely to look favourably on the affair. It might mean that the young man would have to leave the farm, and serve him right an’ all, that it would! Nobody but a fool would have got himself into the mess—this to an accompaniment of lady’s maid’s tears and a lament like a soughing wind—“Poor Mr. Christian! Poor, dear lad!” ”

“ Mr. Crump was exceedingly surprised at his wife's account.
“Really,” he said, “I had no suspicion of this. Can it be possible that such a beautiful child could be guilty of such a crime?”
“Perhaps not,” said his wife. “She may be as innocent in the matter as Ellen or myself.”
“I hope so,” said the baker; “it would be a pity that such a child should be given to wickedness. However, I shall find out before long.”
“How?”
“She will undoubtedly come again some time, and if she offers me one of the same coins I shall know what to think.”
Mr. Crump watched daily for the coming of Ida. ”

“ We of College House never saw much of him, for his proper place was below, near the oven, from which, like a fish, he came to the surface at intervals, with a block of gingerbread or a tray of pies. Mrs. Crump—Amelia’s aunt—was the most stupendous and remarkable woman I ever saw out of a caravan. She commonly sat in an arm-chair behind the counter, with a huge toasting-fork erect, like Britannia, and her role was absolute. She had studied human nature long, and, it would seem, with profitable results, for she gave no credit to man or boy. ”

“ Clifton, with a grace all her own. Ida did so. “I am glad to make your acquaintance, Miss Rachel,” said Mrs. Clifton. “I need not say that I shall be glad to see you, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Crump, at my house very frequently.” “I'm much obleeged to you,” said Aunt Rachel; “but I don't think I shall live long to go anywhere. The feelin's I have, sometimes warn me that I'm not long for this world.” “You see, Mrs. Clifton,” said Jack, his eyes dancing with mischief, “we come of a short-lived family. Grandmother died at eighty-two, and that wouldn't give Aunt Rachel long to live.” ”

“ It's a new thing for a nephew to tell his aunt that she lies. They didn't use to allow such things when I was young.—But the world's going to rack and ruin, and I shouldn't much wonder if the people are right that says it's comin' to an end.” Here Mrs. Crump happily interposed, by asking Jack to go round to the grocery, in the next street, and buy a pint of milk. Jack took his cap and started, with alacrity, glad to leave the dismal presence of Aunt Rachel. ”

“ All she knew was that Crump folk had gone home, leaving Deborah Lyndesay behind, and that never in all her life would she find her way thither. At her father’s death she would have to go south, and that would be the end of things for her. If she married Christian, rightly or wrongly, she would still belong to Crump. It was the one way left; yet she fought hard, for she knew she was wronging him—and always the land cried to her in answer. The power stronger than herself drove her as she looked him in the face at last. ”

“ We know all about that sort of thing. Crump was the worst to reckon on. He would sometimes say very little that day, but take it out of you next. But then Crump was Crump, and101 one never minded much what he did. I wish we had him here now."
"Would he let you have a city of refuge out here?" asked Milly wonderingly.
"Of course he would. Crump isn't like a pack of silly women, who always think one is going to kill oneself. Crump likes boys to do things for themselves, and not be always hanging round and asking other people to take care of them. ”

“ And would they sit in the dark, alone and perfectly content, watching the lights of Crump across the black water as men watch shrine-candles in the dim church of their worship? These things, that made the life of his soul, were the natural heritage of a son of Kilne, who needed scant initiation into their mysteries. But there was no son at Kilne; only a daughter, into whose hands the birthright of love and service could never fall. ”

“ There’s one Crump man that hasn’t come out against me, and that’s yourself!”
The colour flamed into Christian’s face as he stood with the belt in his hands, lifting his head rather haughtily; and instantly from the disappointed assembly a chorus of demand was flung towards him, the more insistent pressing to the very steps.
“Take him on, sir! Give him a taste of the old stuff. Topple him over! Lakin’ Lyndesay! Lakin’ Lyndesay! Give him Crump——!” and it seemed to Christian that he himself was borne bodily upon the wind of tumult as his name ran from mouth to mouth. ”

“ You’ve finished with Dockerneuk for ever.”
“No, no! Oh, no, no——!” she stammered, suddenly broken-hearted like a child wrenched from a happiness just within its grasp. She put out her hands, the quick tears running down her face. “Anthony—I’ve come back. Why did you ever let me go? Anthony, take me in!”
And again he shook his head.
“You chose Crump!” he repeated doggedly. “All the wishing in the world won’t change it. You’re Crump, now, and Crump you must bide till you die.” He moved forward. “They’ll be missing you at the Hall. I’ll set you back.” ”

“ It is always the dependants of an old house who nurse and keep alive any feud that may be going—the family servants, the old keepers, the workmen on the estate. Theirs it is to see that the bad blood should be kept running, no matter how sweetly, on the part of the masters, righteousness and peace may have kissed each other. Crump and Whyterigg had shaken hands and buried the knife, but Christian’s old nurse would not sit at meat with Rishwald’s chauffeur, nor the head gardener so much as exchange a cutting with Whyterigg’s horticultural head. ”

“ She walked quickly across the park, a straight, slim figure in her dark jersey and close cap, and waved her hand to her father standing at his window on the other side of the fast-running water. Not until she was half-way to Crump did she realise that she had crossed the old bridge without a second’s hesitation, and with never a whisper of Slinker’s in her ear.
[157] Sportsmen were approaching from all directions, cycles, traps and cars hurrying up and converging at Crump front; small boys playing truant, with shining eyes and sticks much taller than themselves ”

“ The older men, who had known him from childhood, crowded round him, grasping his hand, while the lads in the background eyed him with reverent awe, for he held a record that could not be beaten by any in the room.
He passed the gauntlet of outstretched hands by gradual degrees, and came laughing to the platform, where a chair had been kept for him, and a morose Larrupper greeted him with a dismal nod. The cheering was still raising the roof as he took his seat in the centre, and the Crump men came out en masse to give him a final yell. ”

“ There was a stir on the platform, heads turning to the inner door framing the illuminated countenance of the old butler; and then Christian ran down into the ring, his nerves thrilling to the affectionate recognition flung him from all sides. He wore the pale orange they all knew, his fair head shining against the black Crump cedar embroidered on the chest; and as he stood, waiting, the full light falling upon his bright, frank expression and clean-limbed grace, Harker, approaching, was conscious of unwilling and deeply heretical admiration. ”

“ Deb cast one glance at the dark pile of the house as they passed; then sat back, silent. Crump blinds had dropped on more than a dead master.
“It’s an unforgiving sort of night!” Christian said dreamily from his corner, as they rolled down the last of the avenue, the great trees clashing overhead. “On nights like this I believe Westmorland breaks her heart for some old sin of long ago. She beats at the heavens, and they are brass. God does not hear. Brathay is like an old hen with hounds, isn’t he?” ”

“ Why won't you be jolly, as Tom Piper's aunt is?” “I dare say I ain't pleasant,” said Aunt Rachel, “as my own nephew tells me so. There is some folks that can be cheerful when their house is a burnin' down before their eyes, and I've heard of one young man that laughed at his aunt's funeral,” directing a severe glance at Jack; “but I'm not one of that kind. I think, with the Scriptures, that there's a time to weep.” “Doesn't it say there's a time to laugh, also?” asked Mrs. Crump. “When I see anything to laugh about, I'm ready to laugh,” said Aunt Rachel; “but human nature ain't to be forced. ”

“ Mrs. Slinker answered, smiling with rather an effort. “It hurts me to see things harried out of life. I just hate making a fuss, so let me slip away quietly, Youngest One, there’s a lamb. I reckon this sort of game’s got to be in your blood. I liked the running and the scrambling all right—but oh, Laker, why didn’t you warn me that a driven hare screams like a frightened child!”
Rishwald thought himself in clover all the way to Crump, and covered four miles with descriptions of a pet jug, to which he referred familiarly as “my little Toby” ”

“ It’s a poor sort of creature that can’t persuade a woman that he wants her. Yet I cared, and I couldn’t do it. Or perhaps I didn’t care enough—then.”
Callander made no answer, for he heard steps along the hall. He saw now what had happened; why Deb, who would have sold her soul for Crump, had yet flung it aside. The decision had evidently been final—Christian would not approach her again, nor would she ever attempt to bring him back. The way was clear for himself, if he chose to take it. He, at least, would have no difficulty in persuading a woman that he loved her! ”

“ Deborah is too well-bred to make her hosts uncomfortable. What I’m wondering is how the High Sheriff will take the horse-dealer’s daughter. He’s a Radical, you know. And I’d quite forgotten that Crump used to owe Whyterigg a grudge—oh, dear! Still, it’s a very long time ago, and one can’t ask just anybody to meet Mr. Lyndesay, even if it is only Christian. But a horse-dealer’s daughter! Perhaps she’ll get on with the parson. ”

“ I don't believe she's got a mother at all. That Mrs. Hardwick is an imposter. I knew it, and told you so at the time, but you wouldn't believe me. I never expect to set eyes on Ida again in this world.” “I do,” said Jack, confidently. “There's many a hope that's doomed to disappointment,” said Aunt Rachel. “So there is,” said Jack. “I was hoping mother would have apple-pudding for dinner to-day, but she didn't.” The next day passed, and still no tidings of Ida. There was a cloud of anxiety, even upon Mr. Crump's usually placid face, and he was more silent than usual at the evening meal. ”

“ Stanley. It was the woman’s only way out. You’ll try to understand, Christian, won’t you—won’t you? I knew what he was—it was impossible to live under Crump’s very shadow and not know—but beyond [310] and above all that he was something to me that he couldn’t possibly be to anybody else. To begin with, he was Lyndesay of Crump, and I, Roger Lyndesay’s daughter. With us lay the right to give him anything we chose, our last coin to help him, our sword-hand to save him—even ourselves. It’s a right that can only be bought by perfect service—that’s why so few people know what it means. But we know. ”

“ There must be something hopelessly wrong with the universe if he could feel himself deliriously honoured by a handshake from Lyndesay of Crump!
“I like that hold better than another of yours I’ve tried!” Christian added cheerfully but with meaning, and Harker dropped his head as Gaskarth dragged him out.
“An’ serve you darned well right!” he observed pleasantly, drawing a breath of relief as they left the house. “Nearly wore me to chewed string, that you did, sliding down me like a bloomin’ water-chute! It’s a rotten game to be always slipping holds—water-chutin’ the other chap into a wax! ”

“ She had been made of the warm, living earth, the crisp wind, the soft, gray-blue sky. Given every tie that binds a human to the soil, she “belonged” to the land by heritage, by affinity and by love.
Nettie and Larrupper were at their heels by the time they reached the top gate of all, which Larry fastened with great deliberation in the face of a panting horde behind, while his companion stamped with impatience and entreated him to come on, for hounds were still in full cry below. ”

“ Lyndesay stewards love all Crump better than their own souls, but they love Cappelside best. They [101] will be found there, sure enough, when the earth gives up its dead!”
“How you feel about the old place!” Christian exclaimed. “It’s home to me, of course, but if love alone were a claim, you’d have a better right to it than I. Yes, and by right of work, too, your own and your fathers’, Crump should be yours, Mr. ”

“ Christian said with determination. “We can’t allow him to be hurt again. But I haven’t much influence with my mother, you know. She was wrapped up entirely in Stanley—she had nothing left for me. And yet they were unhappy together—we were all unhappy. It seems a bit hard that we Lyndesays should never be allowed the every-day home contentment of other folk.”
“There is more than one curse on Crump!” Deb said, frowning. “We are dreamers of dreams, all the lot of us—even Larry—and we carry sorrow in our hands like a guarded gem. ”

“ I want a woman to see me as I am—not through a series of magic mirrors.”
“You’ve got Crump on the brain—you Lyndesays!” Callander grunted impatiently. “Why on earth shouldn’t a girl be glad to marry you for your own sake, I’d like to know? I’m not in the habit of throwing flowers at people, but you must have a pretty good idea what I think of you, by now. Try some decent girl, and see if she doesn’t think the same.”
“I did try,” Christian replied quietly, “and the answer was as I told you. Crump!” ”