"I fancy she meant to leave half to Kezia and half to me; but she wur such a kind-hearted lady that she left all of it to both of us,"

observed Bessie.

"Not all--tell the truth, Bess. We ain't going to claim what don't belong to us. She never left you the carpet on the stairs, nor yet the old bed in the attic," said Robert severely.

"You can't be too honest in business, and that means, if you are too honest, some one else will get the better of you," said George. "If Mrs.

Drake had left the furniture to Mr. Taverner and myself, as she has left it to Kezia and you--"

"What would you ha' done, sir?" asked Robert eagerly.

"I should have looked after my own interests," George answered, as he reached for his hat.

The Mudges escorted him to the door of his own house, and hoped he would look in any time he was pa.s.sing.

"It's right about the house," said Robert, as he too reached for his hat. "And it's right about the railway. I know Captain Drake meant to build it; he talked a lot about it, and he brought gentlemen down to look round the place; they pretended to be fishing, but we knew what they wur up to. Mr. George ain't clever like his uncle. He made a vule of hisself when he said the American gentleman come here to buy a pair of vases--all the way from America to buy a bit o' cloam! Everybody knew he'd come about the railway. Mr. George ain't clever--that's a sure thing. He can't talk so as to deceive a child. 'Twas the American gentleman what put him up to the idea o' turning this house into the terminus. He would never ha' thought of it."

CHAPTER XVIII

SOWING THE SEED

Next morning George invited the dreary Dyer to step into the parlour with a view to continuing the diplomatic conversation commenced the previous day. The baker responded with a certain amount of trepidation, as he thought it possible Mr. Drake might desire to buy a share in the business, and he did not at all relish the idea of confessing that the profits were considerable. His relief, therefore, was only equalled by his amazement when George inquired:

"Did you ever buy a penny weekly journal, Mr. Dyer?"

"Never in my life, sir," replied the baker.

"Then you know nothing about picture puzzles?"

"Never heard of 'em avore, sir."

"A penny weekly journal exists upon its picture puzzles," George continued. "The last time I went away I bought one of these papers. The compet.i.tion interested me, as the pictures represented the names of certain railway stations, and that's a subject I know as much about as any man in England."

"I don't know as I quite get your meaning," said the baker.

"I'll explain. Suppose the picture is intended to represent Marylebone.

You may be shown a drawing of a little girl eating a mutton chop. Of course, you are expected to have some brains."

"I wouldn't use mine vor such a purpose," said the baker somewhat sharply.

"It's quite simple when you've got the trick. You have to a.s.sume the little girl's name is Mary, and _le_ is French for the, and there's more bone than anything else in a mutton chop. Well, I went in for this compet.i.tion, and I've won second prize. I don't know why I didn't get the first, but perhaps that was suppressed for economic reasons."

"I suppose it would be the same sort of thing as a flower show,"

suggested Dyer. "I got second prize for carrots once. It should ha' been half a crown, but they ran short o' money, so I got only eighteen pence, and I never showed again."

"My prize was worth winning," said George, who had really received a solatium of ten shillings. "It was fifty pounds."

Dyer repeated the amount, firstly as a shout of admiration, secondly as a whisper of covetousness; then he released all kinds of exclamations for some moments; and presently observed with emotion:

"Education does it, sir! If I could ha' gone to a big school, and to the University, I might ha' gone in vor them pictures too. Little gal eating a mutton chop--well done, sir! They'm nought but bone as you ses.

You found out her name wur Mary, and you talked French, and you learned all about the railways. Ah, that's wonderful! But I fancy, sir, you must ha' used a map."

"I did it by skill entirely, but of course I had an advantage over my compet.i.tors owing to my connection with the railways. Now you are wondering why I'm telling you this?"

"We all knows you does business in railways," said Dyer absently.

"I find myself with a large sum of money, and I mean to make a good use of it. I propose spending the whole amount in giving happiness to others; but I want to do it un.o.btrusively. I intend to give a meat tea to the old folk of this parish, but I shall hand the money to the vicar and request him to keep my name out of it."

"Perhaps, sir, you'm a-paying vor the cakes ordered yesterday," cried Dyer.

"Don't mention the matter," said George.

"You can trust me, sir."

"Another thing I am anxious to do is to give the Mudges a real good holiday. That's what I wanted to see you about, Mr. Dyer. I know you wish to keep your promise--about the wedding present, you know--but, of course, you can't afford it. My idea is to send them away for a week to the seaside. Bessie served my uncle and aunt faithfully for a number of years, while Robert was always ready to make himself useful in the house; but I've done nothing for either of them. We could give them the best week of their lives for five pounds."

"Did you say anything about me, sir?" asked the baker.

"Yes, because I felt sure you would insist upon contributing something, though I should like them to think the whole amount comes from you.

Suppose I give three pounds. You can make up the other two."

"Can't be done, sir. Can't possibly be done. Besides, sir, business is looking up, owing to your generosity, and I can't spare Robert."

"It will give you a splendid reputation for liberality. Everybody in the parish will know you have given the Mudges five pounds and a week's leave of absence."

"I works vor my reputation, sir. Two pounds would ruin me. I can't tell ye how bad things be; I'd be ashamed to speak the truth, sir; I don't hardly like to think on it. Often, when missus fancies I'm asleep, she has a gude cry. She knows we can't pay five shillings in the pound if miller wur to call vor what us owes 'en."

"I'll subscribe four pounds, if you will give the other," said George.

"Where would I get a pound from?" asked Dyer, more drearily than ever.

"I'd have to borrow, or sell the bed I tries to sleep on, but can't vor all the trouble. A sovereign, sir, is more to me than to any one else in this parish."

"I've heard that before, and I believe it."

"And it's the truth. Twenty shillings might make the difference between pulling down the blinds today, or keeping 'em up till next week."

"Will you give ten shillings?" George inquired desperately.

The baker shook his head like one in pain, muttering something about last straws and poor relief.

"Will you give anything?"

"Well, sir, to show my heart's in the right place I'll sacrifice a shilling. I'll grab it from the till when missus ain't looking."

"Here is the money," said George, counting out five sovereigns. "You had better see Robert at once: tell him to get away tomorrow. This is September, and fine weather may break any day."