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was happy then at Holroyd Hall. Occasionally Mr. Ferrand would burst out into a tremendous storm of anger, from which we all ran and hid ourselves, but soon it would be over and the sky clear again—Mrs. Ferrand had only to weep to bring him to heel, for he had a soft heart beneath his blustering. Yes, life at Holroyd Hall seemed to me a perpetual holiday; and yet there was something missing in it. There was pleasure enough there, to be sure, but never that deep content and satisfaction which comes from a good deed nobly done. There was no gathering of one’spowers firmly and sternly together for the performance of some task one set oneself; anything done there was done, it seemed, by chance and without intention.
    At The Breck it was just the reverse. There was little joy or laughter there, but always the deep satisfaction of rigorous duties, honourably performed. The Thorpes rose early, laboured honestly all day, gave thanks to God and went to rest. Every corner of their life, as of their house, was fit at all times to be scanned, being clean, orderly and sober. Their integrity was of the strictest; no weaver or spinner of theirs was ever defrauded by so much as a halfpenny, their word was their bond, they owed no man anything and bought nothing for which they could not instantly pay. They dealt as carefully with poor folks as with rich, and despised all ostentation as vain and foolish. In charity they were punctual, in friendship steady. Indeed there was a great steadiness in them all, especially in John; he never began anything lightly, nor turned back from it when it was begun. He could not be tempted from the loom during his hours of work, nor would he delay seeing after the animals by so much as a minute, though he did not love them and have a natural mastery over them, like Francis. At The Breck there was no rich colour, no sweet sound; but there was always a dark implacable strength—the Thorpes indeed were as strong in their unyielding principles as those grim black crags one saw on the moors, while the Ferrands were like the slender blue harebells that danced and flowered at their foot.
    It seems strange to me now that a little maid in her teens, such as I was then, should have seen the natures of the Thorpes and the Ferrands so clearly. But it was customary then to talk often, among sober and godly people, of the higher nature and the soul and the approach of men of different beliefs to God, so that I was used to discourse about abstract qualities. Then, too, I spent much time with my father, who made a companion of me in default of my mother and spoke to me of many lofty matters; and since his eyes were apt to ache and water if he read overlong,and I was fond of my book, I read often aloud to him from the diurnals or from religious pamphlets, and learned much so. Besides, my family, as I see now, were rather above the common in intellect.
    This appeared clearly in little David, who began to attend Bradford School the year after I first met the Thorpes and Ferrands. So swift was he in learning that he stayed little more than a twelvemonth in Petty School; he was moved up into the Grammar School and began Latin accidence before he was seven. Through anxious listening to Francis’s lessons I had learned enough Latin to be able to hear David his tasks, which he said was helpful to him, though I do not think this can have been so, for the child hardly ever made a mistake or needed prompting. He sat beside me on the settle, his fair round face very quiet and attentive, and almost before the question was out of my mouth he would sing out the answer in his high childish treble, pronouncing his quantities very strictly and giving copious examples and exceptions. My father, who knew no Latin and had always longed for it, listened with a happy smile to this; and dear Will, whose studies had required much arduous application, was delighted and amazed at the ease with which little David got his lessons. The