asleep with their fists shut tight as wax, he gave a laugh as if he was amused, and said:
“ ‘Two right enough—an’ one on ’em red! Which is the girl, Meg, the black un?’
“ ‘They’re both boys,’ said Meg, quite timidly.
“He turned round, and his eyes went little.
“ ‘Blast ’em then!’ he said. He stood there looking like a devil. Sybil dear, I did not know our George could look like that. I thought he could only look like a faithful dog or a wounded stag. But he looked fiendish. He stood watching the poor little twins, scowling at them, till at last the little red one began to whine a bit. Ma Stainwright came pushing her fat carcass in front of him and bent over the baby, saying:
“ ‘Why, my pretty, what are they doin’ to thee, what are they?—what are they doin’ to thee?’
“Georgie scowled blacker than ever, and went out, lurching against the wash-stand and making the pots rattle till my heart jumped in my throat.
“ ‘Well, if you don’t call that scandylos——!’ said old Ma Stainwright, and Meg began to cry. You don’t know, Cyril! She sobbed fit to break her heart. I felt as if I could have killed him.
“That old gran’ma began talking to him, and he laughed at her. I do hate to hear a man laugh when he’s half drunk. It makes my blood boil all of a sudden. That old grandmother backs him up in everything, she’s a regular nuisance. Meg has cried to me before over the pair of them. The wicked, vulgar old thing that she is——”
I went home to Woodside early in September. Emily was staying at the Ram. It was strange that
