It was twenty years now since Geordie had gone away, clearing out over-seas as casually as if into the next field. Eliza’s eldest from Blindbeck had gone as well, as like him in face and voice as if hatched in the same nest. They were too lively, too restless for the calm machinery of English country life, and when the call came from over the ocean they had vanished in a night. Canada, which has so many links with Westmorland now, seemed farther away then than the world beyond the grave. Death at least left you with bones in a green yard and a stone with a graven name, but Canada made you childless, and there was no sign of your grief beneath the church’s wall. Geordie had written, indeed, from time to time, but though the letters were light enough on the top, there was heartache underneath. He was a failure there, they gathered, after a while, just as they were failures here; as if the curse of the Sandholes luck had followed even across the sea, Jim was a failure, too, as far as they knew, though their impression of Jim’s doings was always vague. His very name on the page seemed to have the trick of dissolving itself in invisible ink, and his own letters were never answered and barely even read. He had been fond of his aunt, but Sarah had given him only the scantiest tolerance in return. Sarah, indeed, would not have cared if Jim had been burning in everlasting fire....
"We’d a letter from Geordie a month back," she said suddenly, after the pause, "begging the loan of a pound o’ two to fetch him home."
May started a little, and the colour came back to her cheek. It was a long time now since anything fresh about Geordie had come her way. Once she had been in the habit of going to Sandholes for news, asking for it by indirect methods of which she was still rather ashamed. Sarah had been jealous of her in those days and grudged her every word; and since she had stopped being jealous there had been next to nothing to grudge.....
"Ay, he axed for his fare, but we hadn’t got it to send. I don’t know as we want him, neither, if he can’t shape better than that."
May felt her heart shake as she leaned forward, clasping her hands.
"I’ve a bit put by I could spare," she began, with a thrill in her voice. "It could go from you, Mrs. Thornthet,--he need never know. You’ve only to say the word, and you can have it when you want."