and handling him like a baby, poor fellow! Often and often he's promised
to take the pledge with Richard, but he never could get him to say Yes.
No, no! I'd go through fire and water before that should be true."

"Nobody could be sorrier than me," persisted Mrs. Brown, somewhat
offended at Ann Holland's vehemence; "I've only told you hearsay, but it
comes direct from the cook, and Cousin James only pursed up his mouth. I
don't say it's true or it's not true, but nobody in Upton could be
sorrier than me if my words come correct. It can't be hidden under a
bushel very long, Miss Holland; but I hope as much as you do that it
isn't true."

Yet there was an undertone of conviction in Mrs. Brown's manner of
speaking that grieved Ann Holland sorely. She accompanied her departing
guest to the door, and long after she was out of sight stood looking
vacantly down the darkened street. There was little light or sound there
now, except in the Upton Arms, where the windows glistened brightly, and
the merry tinkling of a violin sounded through the open door. Her
brother was there, she knew, and would not be home before midnight. He
had been less manageable since Mr. Chantrey went away.

She could not bear to think of Mrs. Chantrey falling into the same sin.
The delicate, pretty, refined young lady degrading herself to the level
of the poor drunken wretch she called her brother! Ann Holland could not
and would not believe it; it seemed too monstrous a scandal to deserve a
moment's anxiety. Yet when she went back into her lonely kitchen, her
eyes were dim with tears, partly for her brother and partly for Sophy
Chantrey.