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tiresome spring is washing away the puddle?”
    â€œExactly. It is an extremely vexatious and costly situation.”
    â€œFather,” said Rosa in the sugary, deferential tone she knew well how to assume: “You are so good, so honourable yourself that I think there is a possibility which has not occurred to you. To
me
it appeared at once that the old man Booth held a brief for the former engineers—the firm who built the embankment in the first place. A contract for massive repairs would be worth several thousand pounds to them, would it not? It would be well worth their while to sweeten John Booth, I imagine?”
    â€œIf I thought
that
!” exclaimed Mr. Beaumont stopping abruptly. “But no—John and Joe Booth are both good workmen, very respectable. John worked for me for twenty years and Joe since he was a child—I’ve just made him foreman in the new dyehouse.”
    â€œAh! I am mistaken, then. It was just that, hearing John Booth praise the firm who built the wall, I was made suspicious.”
    â€œHe hardly
praised
them, my dear.”
    â€œHe exonerated them from blame with regard to the spring.”
    â€œThat’s true,” said Mr. Beaumont uneasily.
    â€œI don’t see why you should incur all the odium of forcing a Parliamentary Bill on unwilling colleagues in order that John Booth may earn a few shillings by bribery.”
    â€œThey are very poor,” said the harassed Mr. Beaumont, walking on.
    â€œThere you are then!” said Rosa triumphantly.
    â€œThere are a good many young children, and John’s hand was pierced by a flying shuttle, so he cannot weave now. Joe has them all to keep.”
    â€œIs that why he isn’t yet married to that lumpish girl?” said Rosa, her voice quivering with hate.
    â€œLizzie Lister? Yes, I imagine so. That’s partly why I recommended old John for the drawer’s job. Now he has that bit of money and Joe has a foreman’s wage they ought to be better able to manage. But if I thought—it certainly does seem strange—it’s absurd to think that a spring twenty yards away could damage the wall.”
    â€œNo one can possibly know what is happening inside the wall.”
    â€œUnfortunately that is so,” said Mr. Beaumont with a sigh.
    â€œTo me the spring seemed to come from the direction of the hill slope above at the side,” said Rosa hastily, seeing that she had made a mistake.
    â€œDid it indeed? I must examine it again later,” said Mr. Beaumont doubtfully.
    â€œBut not in John Booth’s presence!” cried Rosa.
    â€œNo. No. Perhaps not. No,” agreed her father.
    Shortly after this conversation John Booth was dismissed from the drawer’s job. He was too old for it, said Mr. Beaumont; too old and feeble—with that maimed hand too!—to manipulate the valves which sent the Ling water flowing down the valley or withheld it in the reservoir. He regretted having recommended him.
2
    The trouble about the reservoir continued.
    Mr. Beaumont, who had been expected to lead the movement for repair, seemed to have changed sides and deem it unnecessary, and men who would reluctantly have submitted to his demand for expenditure on repair because of his standing in the valley, now gladly followed his new line, which saved their pockets. They gloated over their surprised and resentful opponents, and thus the discussion became exacerbated. Arguments raged; men quarrelled; the original builders of the embankment hotly denied responsibility. More experienced engineers were sought; one gave advice and instruction which seemed to support John Booth’s view of the matter; his instructions were privately countermanded by Mr. Beaumont and he left in a huff. The other commissioners fumed, for no Yorkshireman can bear to have his committee overridden. Perhaps it was on this account that eventually Mr. Beaumont was voted down and the decision taken to put