“If I could only make the Barnaby bargain available,” she said; “it is cruel to have it tied up to mere apprenticeships, which in the present state of things are absolutely useless, or worse.”

“Can nothing be done?”

“You shall hear.  Dame Rachel Curtis, in 1605, just when this place was taking up lace-making, an art learnt, I believe, from some poor nuns that were turned out of St. Mary’s, at Avoncester, thought she did an immense benefit to the place by buying the bit of land known as Burnaby’s Bargain, and making the rents go yearly to apprentice two poor girls born of honest parents.  The rent is fourteen pounds, and so the fees are so small that only the small lace-makers here will accept them.  I cannot get the girls apprenticed to anything better in the towns except for a much larger premium.”

“Do I understand you that such a premium is at present to be bestowed?”

“No, not till next June.  The two victims for this year have been sacrificed.  But perhaps another time it might be possible to bind them to you as a wood engraver or printer!” cried Rachel, joyfully.

“I should be most happy.  But who would be the persons concerned?”

“The trustees are the representative of our family and the rector of the parish—­not Mr. Touchett (this is only a district), but poor old Mr. Linton at Avonbridge, who is barely able to sign the papers, so that practically it all comes to me.”

“Extremely fortunate for the objects of the charity.”

“I wish it were so; but if it could only be made available in such a cause as ours, I am sure my good namesake’s intentions would be much better carried out than by binding these poor girls down to their cushions.  I did once ask about it, but I was told it could only be altered by Act of Parliament.”

“Great facilities have of late been given,” said Mr. Mauleverer, “many old endowments have most beneficially extended their scope.  May I ask where the land in question is?”

“It is the level bit of meadow just by the river, and all the slope down to the mouth; it has always been in our hands, and paid rent as part of the farm.  You know how well it looks from the garden-seat, but it always grieves me when people admire it, for I feel as if it were thrown away.”

“Ah!  I understand.  Perhaps if I could see the papers I could judge of the feasibility of some change.”

Rachel gladly assented, and knowing where to find the keys of the strong box, she returned in a short space with a parcel tied up with, red tape, and labelled “Barnaby’s Bargain.”

“I have been thinking,” she exclaimed, as she came in, “that that piece of land must have grown much more valuable since this rent was set on it!  Fourteen pounds a year, why we never thought of it; but surely in such a situation, it would be worth very much more for building purposes.”

“There can be no doubt.  But your approach, Miss Curtis?”