Joan Wolf by His Lordship's Mistress Read Free Book Online

its drawbacks.”
    “Drawbacks? How can greater efficiency be a drawback?”
    “Because the small independent farmer is no longer efficient. He can’t compete. In many cases his farm has been bought by a larger, wealthier landowner. Many of the old smallholders have become landless agricultural laborers. The commons have been enclosed and so cottagers have nowhere to graze a cow or find fuel. We are in a state of transition from an agricultural to an industrial economy and at Staplehurst I am fighting what could be called a holding action.”
    She was listening to him intently. “At least you are employing a large number of people.”
    “I am,” he replied a trifle grimly, “but unless something is done politically to stabilize the economy the efforts of a few well-intentioned landowners like myself will go for naught.”
    “Most of the big landlords seem to be pressing for another Corn Law,” she said neutrally.
    His eyes began to get very blue. “What we do not need is to hinder the import of cheap foreign corn. There will be famine if we do it. With 250,000 demobilized soldiers and sailors thrown on the labor market there will be disaster. Wages will be down for those who can get jobs. For those who cannot the Poor Relief will be the only answer. And neither those with jobs at below-subsistence wages or those on Poor Relief will be able to afford corn if it is stabilized at 80 shillings a quarter.”
    “I have never been much in favor of the Poor Relief,” Jessica remarked. “Not, at least, when it is used to supplement wages. It may assist the worker temporarily, but in the long run it benefits the employer, who is relieved of the necessity of paying a living wage. And the small parish taxpayer is forced to subsidize, via the poor rate, the payroll of the big farmer and manufacturer.”
    “Good for you, Jess,” he said strongly. “When I think of the number of people I have tried to impress that fact upon I could weep.”
    The faint bitterness was back in his voice, and Jessica’s eyes fixed themselves thoughtfully upon his face. Under Linton’s serene, gentle exterior there evidently lurked the soul of a reformer. “You surprise me,” she said frankly.
    “Not half as much as you surprise me,” he returned. “You are really interested in all this aren’t you?”
    “Yes.” She looked very serious. “I can imagine how it would feel to be thrown upon the world with nothing behind you, no land, no job, no government to help you out.” At the bleak look that touched her face he felt a sudden stab of fierce protectiveness.
    “You can always come to me,” he said.
    “Thank you, my lord,” she replied with an effort at lightness. “I shall remember that.”
     

Chapter Seven
     
    So every sweet with sour is tempered still,
    That maketh it be coveted the more;
    For easy things, that may be got at will,
    Most sorts of men do set but little store.
    — EDMUND SPENCER
     
    Jessica and Linton had not been unobserved at the Piazza. Lord George Litcham and Mr. John Mowbray were seated at no very great distance, and they had been joined by Bertram Romney, one of Linton’s cousins. “I wonder what Philip is being so serious about,” Lord George commented as he watched his friend with speculative eyes.
    “It don’t look like a jolly little coze, does it?” replied Mr. Mowbray. As they watched, Jessica said something and Linton replied, the set of his mouth very determined.
    “I know that look of Philip’s,” Mr. Romney said. “I believe he must be talking about the economy.”
    “To Miss O’Neill?” Mr. Mowbray sounded incredulous.
    “She doesn’t look bored,” returned Lord George. All three men looked surreptitiously at Jessica’s absorbed face.
    “No, she doesn’t,” agreed Mr. Mowbray.
    Jessica and Linton rose to leave, and on their way out passed by Lord George’s table. Linton nodded at them in a friendly if abstracted way as he followed behind Jessica. He didn’t pause to chat,