Joyce's eyes filled with tears. "What is to be done?" she said, helplessly; "what can be done?"
"I don't know, miss; I don't know. There's plenty of the ore left, but it is no use working it, there's no market for it. Mrs. More teaches us to pray to God and try to trust Him, but He does not seem to hear or help. I have been in service, and could get a place again at a Farm at Publow, through Mrs. More, but since mother is gone, there is none to look after baby. I do love the baby!"
"How long are you going to jaw like this, Sue? Let me get up and settle the question; if not now, I _will_ settle it at last."
"Come away," Gilbert said, putting his hand on Joyce's arm; "we can do no good. It is getting so dark. Do come!" He put his hand to his head, for he still felt dazed and giddy with his fall.
"Tell me your name," Joyce said, "and where I should find you."
"Susan Priday, Mendip Mines, that's my name, miss."
"I am going to see Mrs. More soon, and I will tell her about you," Joyce said, in a low tone; "and do believe I am sorry for you. How old are you?"
"Eighteen come Christmas," the girl said, looking up into Joyce's beautiful face with undisguised admiration.
"Just my age," Joyce said. "Oh, I should like to make you happy! How old is the baby?"
"Born when mother died--just nine months old; he is so pretty, he is!"
Joyce had seldom, if ever, spoken familiarly to any of the girls about the country side before. Mrs. Falconer had her views on the subject, and the "miner folks" were her especial aversion, while Mrs. More's attempts to civilise them were met with derision and scorn. The gulf set between her and her household of respectable maids, and the rough, half-clothed miner's families, was in her eyes impassable! What was the use of trying to reclaim those who preferred their own rough and evil ways? They ought to be well punished for raids made on farm yards, and snares set in copses and plantations; but to teach them to read, and talk to them about their duty to God and their neighbour, was in Mrs. Falconer's eyes worse than lost labour; it did harm rather than good.
And not only by Mrs. Falconer was this view of the unclothed and unwashed masses taken! In our days of widely spread and organised charities, and zeal, sometimes I fear hardly tempered with wisdom, it is difficult to throw ourselves back to the beginning of the century now drawing to its close, when efforts like those of the four sisters of the Mendips, of whom Hannah was the leading spirit, were met with scoffs and disapproval; or deep compassion, that educated women could be so misguided, as to wish to teach the boys and girls of their district, anything but to use their legs and arms in the service of their betters!