Sylvia's Lovers

When he recollected all that had happened the night before, it

impressed him much more favourably than it had done at the time. If

not joy, hope had come in the morning; and, at any rate, he could be

up and be doing, for the late wintry light was stealing down the

hill-side, and he knew that, although Coulson lay motionless in his

sleep, it was past their usual time of rising. Still, as it was new

year's Day, a time of some licence, Philip had mercy on his

fellow-shopman, and did not waken him till just as he was leaving

the room.

Carrying his shoes in his hand, he went softly downstairs for he

could see from the top of the flight that neither Alice nor her

daughter was down yet, as the kitchen shutters were not unclosed. It

was Mrs. Rose's habit to rise early, and have all bright and clean

against her lodgers came down; but then, in general, she went to

rest before nine o'clock, whereas the last night she had not gone

till past twelve. Philip went about undoing the shutters, and trying

to break up the raking coal, with as little noise as might be, for

he had compassion on the tired sleepers. The kettle had not been

filled, probably because Mrs. Rose had been unable to face the storm

of the night before, in taking it to the pump just at the entrance

of the court. When Philip came back from filling it, he found Alice

and Hester both in the kitchen, and trying to make up for lost time

by hastening over their work. Hester looked busy and notable with

her gown pinned up behind her, and her hair all tucked away under a

clean linen cap; but Alice was angry with herself for her late

sleeping, and that and other causes made her speak crossly to

Philip, as he came in with his snowy feet and well-filled kettle.

'Look the' there! droppin' and drippin' along t' flags as was

cleaned last night, and meddlin' wi' woman's work as a man has no

business wi'.' Philip was surprised and annoyed. He had found relief from his own

thoughts in doing what he believed would help others. He gave up the

kettle to her snatching hands, and sate down behind the door in

momentary ill-temper. But the kettle was better filled, and

consequently heavier than the old woman expected, and she could not

manage to lift it to the crook from which it generally hung

suspended. She looked round for Hester, but she was gone into the

back-kitchen. In a minute Philip was at her side, and had heaved it

to its place for her. She looked in his face for a moment wistfully,

but hardly condescended to thank him; at least the sound of the

words did not pass the lips that formed them. Rebuffed by her

manner, he went back to his old seat, and mechanically watched the

preparations for breakfast; but his thoughts went back to the night

before, and the comparative ease of his heart was gone. The first

stir of a new day had made him feel as if he had had no sufficient

cause for his annoyance and despondency the previous evening; but

now, condemned to sit quiet, he reviewed looks and words, and saw

just reason for his anxiety. After some consideration he resolved to

go that very night to Haytersbank, and have some talk with either

Sylvia or her mother; what the exact nature of this purposed

conversation should be, he did not determine; much would depend on

Sylvia's manner and mood, and on her mother's state of health; but

at any rate something would be learnt.