not one to be openly avowed even to
herself. She only wanted sadly to see Molly, and she almost believed
herself that it was to consult her about the fashion of her cloak;
which Donkin was to cut out, and which she was to make under his
directions; at any rate, this was the reason she gave to her mother
when the day's work was done, and a fine gleam came out upon the
pale and watery sky towards evening.

CHAPTER VI

THE SAILOR'S FUNERAL

Moss Brow, the Corney's house, was but a disorderly, comfortless
place. You had to cross a dirty farmyard, all puddles and dungheaps,
on stepping-stones, to get to the door of the house-place. That
great room itself was sure to have clothes hanging to dry at the
fire, whatever day of the week it was; some one of the large
irregular family having had what is called in the district a
'dab-wash' of a few articles, forgotten on the regular day. And
sometimes these articles lay in their dirty state in the untidy
kitchen, out of which a room, half parlour, half bedroom, opened on
one side, and a dairy, the only clean place in the house, at the
opposite. In face of you, as you entered the door, was the entrance
to the working-kitchen, or scullery. Still, in spite of disorder
like this, there was a well-to-do aspect about the place; the
Corneys were rich in their way, in flocks and herds as well as in
children; and to them neither dirt nor the perpetual bustle arising
from ill-ordered work detracted from comfort. They were all of an
easy, good-tempered nature; Mrs. Corney and her daughters gave every
one a welcome at whatever time of the day they came, and would just
as soon sit down for a gossip at ten o'clock in the morning, as at
five in the evening, though at the former time the house-place was
full of work of various kinds which ought to be got out of hand and
done with: while the latter hour was towards the end of the day,
when farmers' wives and daughters were usually--'cleaned' was the
word then, 'dressed' is that in vogue now. Of course in such a
household as this Sylvia was sure to be gladly received. She was
young, and pretty, and bright, and brought a fresh breeze of
pleasant air about her as her appropriate atmosphere. And besides,
Bell Robson held her head so high that visits from her daughter were
rather esteemed as a favour, for it was not everywhere that Sylvia
was allowed to go.

'Sit yo' down, sit yo' down!' cried Dame Corney, dusting a chair
with her apron; 'a