severely dealt with; but the majority and those who knew most about him
thought that his ill-fortune was deserved.

"For look at it," said a tradesman, who knew the facts. "If he'd been
left money, he'd have only wasted the lot in sporting and been worse off
after than before; but now he's up against work, and work may be the
saving of him. And if he won't work, let him die the death and get off
the earth and make room for a better man."

None denied the honourable obligation to work for every responsible
human being.




CHAPTER III

THE HACKLER


The warehouse of Bridetown Mill adjoined the churchyard wall and its
northern windows looked down upon the burying ground. The store came
first and then the foreman's home, a thatched dwelling bowered in red
and white roses, with the mill yard in front and a garden behind. From
these the works were separated by the river. Bride came by a mill race
to do her share, and a water wheel, conserving her strength, took it to
the machinery. For Benny Cogle's engine was reinforced by the river.
Then, speeding forward, Bride returned to her native bed, which wound
through the valley south of the works.