He knew well very hard days were before his people, and he was now endeavoring by every means in his power to provide alleviations for the great tragedy he saw approaching.  All other things seemed less urgent, and a letter from Harry full of small worries about pictures and bric-a-brac was almost an irritation.  But he answered it in brotherly fashion and laid the responsibility so kindly on Harry himself that the careless young fellow was proudly encouraged and uplifted.

In the meantime the small cloud in the far west was casting deeper shadows of forthcoming events, but in the lovely springtime they were not very alarming.  Also in Hatton town the people relied on the Master of Hatton.  They told themselves he was doing all that could be done to ward off evil and they trusted in him.  And no one foresaw as yet how long the struggle would last.  So Harry Hatton’s return to the home county and neighborhood was full of interest.  He was their favorite and their friend, and he had been long enough away to blot out any memory of his faults; and indeed a fault connected with horses calls forth from Yorkshiremen ready excuse and forgiveness.  As to the mill, few of its workers blamed him for hating it.  They hated it also and would have preferred some other out-door employment.  So Harry’s return was far more interesting than the supply of cotton, and then England might do this and that and perhaps France might interfere.  That wide, slippery word “perhaps” led them into many delusive suppositions.

Very nearly three weeks after John left him in London, Harry announced his purpose of being in Yoden the following afternoon.  He said his furniture and trunks had arrived there three days previously, having gone to Yoden by railway.  In the afternoon John went up the hill to tell his mother and found her thoroughly aware of all Harry’s plans.

“I went to Yoden, John, a week ago,” she said, “to hire men to meet the furniture and take it to the house.  Well, I can tell you I was a bit amazed to find there had been a lot of workmen there for more than two weeks—­paperers, painters, decorators and upholsterers.  I thought you had sent them to Yoden.”

“Not I!  Not one of them.  Did you think I could be so wicked?  I want every penny I can touch for cotton.”

“Wicked or not, the men were there.  They were not men of this side of England either.  I asked who sent them to Yoden, and one of them told me they came from Sandfords’, Bond Street, London.  I dare say Harry sent them.”

“Then I fear Harry must pay for it.  It is a bad time for him to be extravagant.”

“Well then, if Harry can’t pay, I can.  Don’t thee be cross with the poor lad.  He hesn’t found life very pleasant so far and now that a bit of pleasure comes into it, he’s right to make the most of it.”

“All shall be as you wish, mother.  Will you meet them tomorrow afternoon?”

“Nay, I know better.  Lucy will be worn out, dusty and hungry, and she’ll thank nobody for bothering her, until she is rested.  I’ll go early next morning.  Lucy knows there is a time to call and a time to bide at home.”