Read Online Tales of the West Riding by Phyllis Bentley - Free Book Online

quarters with John’s son.
    All accounts describe Joe Booth as a good-looking young man, shapely in figure, with large brown eyes and curly dark hair, but beyond all that as having something especially pleasant, kindly, goodnatured, so to say affectionate towards all, in his expression. He therefore appeared quite a suitable person for Miss Rosa Beaumont to address; not likely to be gross in speech, and intelligent enough to appreciate the honour. So she gave him a pleasant condescending smile, and was just about to speak to him when she saw a sudden change in his face. A half-smile curved his handsome lips; the brown eyes glowed. Rosa was about to be astonished at his effrontery in looking at her like that, when she perceived that he was looking beyond her. She turned. There a few yards away on the hillside stood an ordinary working girl; fair-haired, pink-cheeked, cheerful, tastelessly dressed, short and solid. Joe Booth’s beaming glance was for her, and she responded with the wide smile of assured love. Her teeth were poor, reflected Rosa, turning away in a fury. Such rudeness! To turn his attention from Miss Rosa Beaumont while she was speaking! How offensive! What were the lower classes coming to!
    â€œI am tired, father,” she murmured in his ear.
    â€œYes—well—we must have a full commissioners’ meeting soon,” said Mr. Beaumont in a valedictory tone, stepping back from the group. “Take my arm, child. The matter is very serious, gentlemen, and needs careful thought. If large repairs to the embankment are really necessary, we shall have to consider drawing up another Bill.”
    â€œWhat? Another Parliamentary Bill?” cried some of the commissioners, aghast. “Never!”
    â€œNay, he’s right.”
    â€œWhat, all those lawyers’ fees again?”
    â€œIf the embankment is to be repaired, we shall need more money. We must be empowered to borrow again, and to levy a higher water rate.”
    â€œThe Yarrow Valley manufacturers won’t pay it, and so I tell you straight.”
    â€œDo you propose to find the money yourselves, then?” said Mr. Beaumont stiffly. “For my part I am not prepared to make any further private investment.”
    â€œAye, that’s right. Me neither.”
    â€œMaybe, but we want no more Parliamentary Bills, choose how.”
    â€œWhere are we to find brass, without?”
    â€œAnd who’s to do the repairs? I make nowt of them engineers that built this wall and left a spring wandering about inside.”
    â€œThey did their best, I reckon,” said Mr. Booth mildly. “Maybe it’s us backing up the two streams that started the spring, like.”
    â€œWell, it’s a poor do.”
    â€œWe must have a full meeting very soon,” said Mr. Beaumont impatiently. “Meanwhile, I suggest that we instruct John Booth to keep a close watch on the embankment and the spring, and report to us every week. We must prepare a strong case to state in the Bill.”
    â€œNo more Bills!” shouted several commissioners.
    Mr. Beaumont walked away in a huff. His light springy step was always quick; now his daughter had to hurry to keep beside him. It was not because of this, however, that her cheek was hot and her breath quick.
    â€œI should like to understand this matter thoroughly, father,” she panted when they had reached the lane.
    â€œIt is no concern of yours, my dear.”
    â€œBut what is
puddle?
I always thought the word signified a pool.”
    â€œTo puddle a wall or bank is to render it impervious to water. The word by a natural transition also means the material used in the process. The Ling embankment has a layer of puddle in its centre, along its whole length. If this puddle layer were to be broken, or removed, then the embankment would no longer be impervious to water. Water would seep through and weaken the whole structure.”
    â€œAnd old Booth says that