书城公版The Prime Minister
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第56章

NEVER RUN AWAY!

During the whole of that evening there was a forced attempt on the part of all the party at Wharton Hall to be merry,--which, however, as is the case whenever such attempts are forced, was a failure.There had been a hay****** harvest-home which was supposed to give special occasion for mirth, as Sir Alured farmed the land around the park himself, and was great in hay.'I don't think it pays very well,' he said with a gentle smile, 'but Ilike to employ some of the people myself.I think the old people find it easier with me than with the tenants.'

'I shouldn't wonder,' said his cousin;--'but that's charity; not employment.'

'No, no,' exclaimed the baronet.'They work for their wages and do their best.Powell sees to that.' Powell was the bailiff, who knew the length of his master's foot to a quarter of an inch, and was quite aware that the Wharton haymakers were not to be overtasked.'Powell doesn't keep any cats about the place, but what catch mice.But I am not quite sure that hay****** does pay.'

'How do the tenants manage?'

'Of course they look to things closer.You wouldn't wish me to let the land up to the house next door.'

'I think,' said old Mrs Fletcher, 'that a landlord should consent to lose a little by his own farming.It does good in the long run.' Both Mr Wharton and Sir Alured felt that this might be very well at Longbarns, though it could hardly be afforded at Wharton.

'I don't think I lose much by my farming,' said the squire of Longbarns.'I have four hundred acres on hand, and I keep my accounts pretty regularly.'

'Johnson is a very good man, I dare say,' said the baronet.

'Like most of the others,' continued the squire, 'he's very well as long as he's looked after.I think I know as much about it as Johnson.Of course, I don't expect a farmer's profit; but I do expect my rent, and I get it.'

'I don't think I manage it in quite that way,' said the baronet in a melancholy tone.

'I'm afraid not,' said the barrister.

'John is as hard upon the men as any one of the tenants,' said John's wife, Mrs Fletcher of Longbarns.

'I'm not hard at all,' said John, 'and you understand nothing about it.I'm paying three shillings a week more to every man, and eighteen pence a week more to every woman, than I did three years ago.'

'That's because of the Unions,' said the barrister.

'I don't care a straw for the Unions.If the Unions interfered with my comfort, I'd let the land and leave the place.'

'Oh, John!' ejaculated John's mother.

'I would not consent to be made a slave even for the sake of the country.But the wages had to be raised,--having raised them Iexpect to get proper value for my money.If anything has to be given away, let it be given away,--so that the people should know what it is that they receive.'

'That's just what we don't want to do here,' said Lady Wharton, who did not often join in any of these arguments.

'You're wrong, my lady,' said her stepson.'You're only breeding idleness when you teach people to think that they are earning wages without working for their money.Whatever you do with them, let them know and feel the truth.It'll be the best in the long run.'

'I'm sometimes happy when I think that I shan't live to see the long run,' said the baronet.This was the manner in which they tried to be merry that evening after dinner at Wharton Hall.The two girls sat listening to their seniors in contented silence,--listening or perhaps thinking of their own peculiar troubles, while Arthur Fletcher held some book in his hand which he strove to read with all his might.

There was not one there in the room who did not know that it was the wish of the united families that Arthur Fletcher should marry Emily Wharton, and also that Emily had refused him.To Arthur of course the feeling that it was so could not but be an additional vexation; but the knowledge had grown up and had become common in the two families without any power on his part to prevent so disagreeable a condition of affairs.There was not one in that room, unless it was Mary Wharton, who was not more or less angry with Emily, thinking her to be perverse and unreasonable.Even to Mary her cousin's strange obstinacy was a matter of surprise and sorrow,--for to her Arthur Fletcher was one of those demigods, who should never be refused, who are not expected to do more than express a wish and be accepted.Her own heart had not strayed that way because she thought but little of herself, knowing herself to be portionless, and believing from long thought on the subject that it was not her destiny to the wife of any man.She regarded Arthur Fletcher as being of all men the most lovable,--though, knowing her own condition, she did not dream of loving him.It did not become her to be angry with another girl on such a cause;--but she was amazed that Arthur Fletcher should sigh in vain.