world. It was a dark day with a cold drizzling rain, but at eleven
o'clock at night you were born, and the next morning was bright with
beautiful sunshine. Some people think that Blackdeep must always be
dreary at this time of year, but they are wrong. I love the Fen
country. It is my own country. This house, as you know, has
belonged to your father's forefathers for two hundred years or more,
and my father's old house has been in our family nearly as long. I
could not live in London; but I ought not to talk in this way, for I
hold it to be wrong to set anybody against what he has to do. Your
brother Jim is the best of sons. He sits with me in the evening and
reads the paper to me. He goes over to Ely market every week. He
has his dinner at the ordinary, where many of the company drink more
than is good for them, but never once has he come home the worse for
liquor. I had a rare fright a little while ago. I thought there
was something between him and one of those Stanton girls at Ely. I
saw she was trying to catch him. It is all off now. She is a town
girl, stuck-up, spends a lot of money on her clothes, and would have
been no wife for Jim. She would not have been able to put her hand
to anything here. She might have broken my heart, for she would
have tried to draw Jim away from me. I don't believe, my dearest
child, in wedded love which lessens the love for father and mother.
When you were going to be married what agony I went through! It was
so wicked of me, for it was jealousy with no cause. I thank God you
love me as much as ever. I wish I could see you again at Homerton,
but the journey made me so ill last winter that I dare not venture
just yet.--Your loving mother,

RACHEL SUTTON.