THINGS OCCUR IN STORNHAM VILLAGE
It would not have been possible for Miss Vanderpoel to remain long in social seclusion in London, and, before many days had passed, Stornham village was enlivened by the knowledge that her ladyship and her sister had returned to the Court.It was also evident that their visit to London had not been made to no purpose.The stagnation of the waters of village life threatened to become a whirlpool.A respectable person, who was to be her ladyship's maid, had come with them, and her ladyship had not been served by a personal attendant for years.
Her ladyship had also appeared at the dinner-table in new garments, and with her hair done as other ladies wore theirs.
She looked like a different woman, and actually had a bit of colour, and was beginning to lose her frightened way.Now it dawned upon even the dullest and least active mind that something had begun to stir.
It had been felt vaguely when the new young lady from "Meriker"had walked through the village street, and had drawn people to doors and windows by her mere passing.After the return from London the signs of activity were such as made the villagers catch their breaths in uttering uncertain exclamations, and caused the feminine element to catch up offspring or, dragging it by its hand, run into neighbours' cottages and stand talking the incredible thing over in lowered and rather breathless voices.
Yet the incredible thing in question was--had it been seen from the standpoint of more prosperous villagers-- anything but extraordinary.In entirely rural places the Castle, the Hall or the Manor, the Great House--in short--still retains somewhat of the old feudal power to bestow benefits or withhold them.Wealth and good will at the Manor supply work and resultant comfort in the village and its surrounding holdings.Patronised by the Great House the two or three small village shops bestir themselves and awaken to activity.
The blacksmith swings his hammer with renewed spirit over the numerous jobs the gentry's stables, carriage houses, garden tools, and household repairs give to him.The carpenter mends and makes, the vicarage feels at ease, realising that its church and its charities do not stand unsupported.Small farmers and larger ones, under a rich and interested landlord, thrive and are able to hold their own even against the tricks of wind and weather.Farm labourers being, as a result, certain of steady and decent wage, trudge to and fro, with stolid cheerfulness, knowing that the pot boils and the children's feet are shod.
Superannuated old men and women are sure of their broth and Sunday dinner, and their dread of the impending "Union"fades away.The squire or my lord or my lady can be depended upon to care for their old bones until they are laid under the sod in the green churchyard.With wealth and good will at the Great House, life warms and offers prospects.There are Christmas feasts and gifts and village treats, and the big carriage or the smaller ones stop at cottage doors and at once confer exciting distinction and carry good cheer.
But Stornham village had scarcely a remote memory of any period of such prosperity.It had not existed even in the older Sir Nigel's time, and certainly the present Sir Nigel's reign had been marked only by neglect, ill-temper, indifference, and a falling into disorder and decay.Farms were poorly worked, labourers were unemployed, there was no trade from the manor household, no carriages, no horses, no company, no spending of money.Cottages leaked, floors were damp, the church roof itself was falling to pieces, and the vicar had nothing to give.
The helpless and old cottagers were carried to the "Union" and, dying there, were buried by the stinted parish in parish coffins.
Her ladyship had not visited the cottages since her child's birth.And now such inspiriting events as were everyday happenings in lucky places like Westerbridge and Wratcham and Yangford, showed signs of being about to occur in Stornham itself.
To begin with, even before the journey to London, Kedgers had made two or three visits to The Clock, and had been in a communicative mood.He had related the story of the morning when he had looked up from his work and had found the strange young lady standing before him, with the result that he had been "struck all of a heap." And then he had given a detailed account of their walk round the place, and of the way in which she had looked at things and asked questions, such as would have done credit to a man "with a 'ead on 'im.""Nay! Nay!" commented Kedgers, shaking his own head doubtfully, even while with admiration."I've never seen the like before--in young women--neither in lady young women nor in them that's otherwise."Afterwards had transpired the story of Mrs.Noakes, and the kitchen grate, Mrs.Noakes having a friend in Miss Lupin, the village dressmaker.
"I'd not put it past her," was Mrs.Noakes' summing up, "to order a new one, I wouldn't."The footman in the shabby livery had been a little wild in his statements, being rendered so by the admiring and excited state of his mind.He dwelt upon the matter of her "looks," and the way she lighted up the dingy dining-room, and so conversed that a man found himself listening and glancing when it was his business to be an unhearing, unseeing piece of mechanism.
Such simple records of servitors' impressions were quite enough for Stornham village, and produced in it a sense of being roused a little from sleep to listen to distant and uncomprehended, but not unagreeable, sounds.
One morning Buttle, the carpenter, looked up as Kedgers had done, and saw standing on the threshold of his shop the tall young woman, who was a sensation and an event in herself.
"You are the master of this shop?" she asked.
Buttle came forward, touching his brow in hasty salute.
