Come again, Jill."




CHAPTER VI

HARRY IS NOT GRATEFUL


Where the lane from Fortis Green crosses the high road there stood an
ale-house. On the wettest days, and some others, the place was Harry's
resort. Not that he had a liking for ale-house company--or indeed any
company. But within the precincts of the Wavertons' house tobacco was
forbidden and--all the more for that--tobacco he loved with a solid
devotion. The alehouse of the cross roads offered a clean floor, a clean
fire, air not too foul, a tolerable chair, a landlord who did not talk,
and until evening, sufficient solitude. There Harry smoked many pipes in
tranquillity until the day when on his entry he found Mr. Hadley's
sardonic face waiting for him. He liked Charles Hadley less than many men
whom he more despised. Nobody in a position just better than menial can
be expected to like the condescending mockery which was Mr. Hadley's
_metier_. But Harry--it is one of his most noble qualities--bore being
laughed at well enough. What most annoyed him was Mr. Hadley's parade of
a surly, austere virtue. He did not doubt that it was sincere. He could
more easily have forgiven it if it had been hypocritical. A man had no
business to be so mighty honest.

Mr. Hadley nodded at Harry, who said it was a dirty day, and called for
his pot of small ale and his pennyworth of Spanish tobacco. Mr. Hadley