rooms above and below, besides a small dairy; and I shall plant a
fir-wood behind it to keep off the east winds. The lime and bricks from
my own works will not cost me much more than the expense of bringing
them up here.'

'And a very pretty little hill-farm you'll make of it, James,' replied
Thomas Wyley admiringly. 'I should not wonder now if you got L20 a year
rent for it.'

'I shall get L25 in a few years,' said the other one: 'just think of
the run for ponies on the hill, to say nothing of sheep. A young,
hard-working man could make a very tidy living up here; and we shall
have a respectable house, instead of a pauper's family.'

'It will be a benefit to the neighbourhood,' observed Thomas Wyley.

The latter speaker, who was a degree pleasanter-looking than his brother,
was the relieving officer of the large union to which Botfield belonged;
and, in consequence, all poor persons who had grown too old, or were in
any way unable to work, were compelled to apply to him for the help which
the laws of our country provide for such cases. James Wyley, the elder
brother, was the owner of Botfield works, and the master of all the
people employed in them, besides being the agent of the lord of the
manor. So both these men possessed great authority over the poor; and
they used the power to oppress them and grind them down to the utmost.
It was therefore no wonder that Stephen stopped instantly when he saw
their well-known figures standing at the corner of his oat-field; nor
that he should come on slowly after he had recovered his courage,
pondering in his own mind what they were come up to Fern's Hollow for,
and how he should answer them if they should want him to give up the old
hut.

'Good evening, my lad,' said James Wyley, smiling a slow, reluctant
smile, as Stephen drew near to them with his cap in his hand. 'So you
buried your father yesterday, I hear. Poor fellow! there was not a better
collier at Botfield than James Fern.'

'Never troubled his parish for a sixpence,' added Thomas Wyley.

'Thank you, master,' said Stephen, the tears starting to his eyes, so
unexpected was this gentle greeting to him; 'I'll try to be like father.'

'Well, my boy,' said Thomas Wyley, 'we are come up here on purpose to
give you our advice, as you are such a mere lad. I've been thinking what
can be done for you. There's your grandfather, a poor, simple, helpless
old man, and the little girl--why, of course we shall have to receiv