Chapter XIII

       The Bazaar

       Table of Contents

      The Wesleyan Bazaar, the greatest undertaking of its kind ever known in Bursley, gradually became a cloud which filled the entire social horizon. Mrs. Sutton, organiser of the Sunday-school stall, pressed all her friends into the service, and a fortnight after the death of Sarah Vodrey, Anna and even Agnes gave much of their spare time to the work, which was carried on under pressure increasing daily as the final moments approached. This was well for Anna, in that it diverted her thoughts by keeping her energies fully engaged. One morning, however, it occurred to Mrs. Sutton to reflect that Anna, at such a period of life, should be otherwise employed. Anna had called at the Suttons' to deliver some finished garments.

      'My dear,' she said, 'I am very much obliged to you for all this industry. But I've been thinking that as you are to be married in February you ought to be preparing your things.'

      'My things!' Anna repeated idly; and then she remembered Mynors' phrase, on the hill, 'Can you be ready by that time?'

      'Yes,' said Mrs. Sutton; 'but possibly you've been getting forward with them on the quiet.'

      'Tell me,' said Anna, with an air of interest; 'I've meant to ask you before: Is it the bride's place to provide all the house-linen, and that sort of thing?'

      'It was in my day; but those things alter so. The bride took all the house-linen to her husband, and as many clothes for herself as would last a year; that was the rule. We used to stitch everything at home in those days—everything; and we had what we called a "bottom drawer" to store them in. As soon as a girl passed her fifteenth birthday, she began to sew for the "bottom drawer." But all those things change so, I dare say it's different now.'

      'How much will it cost to buy everything, do you think?' Anna asked.

      Just then Beatrice entered the room.

      'Beatrice, Anna is inquiring how much it will cost to buy her trousseau, and the house-linen. What do you say?'

      'Oh!' Beatrice replied, without any hesitation, 'a couple of hundred at least.'

      Mrs. Sutton, reading Anna's face, smiled reassuringly. 'Nonsense, Bee! I dare say you could do it on a hundred with care, Anna.'

      'Why should Anna want to do it with care?' Beatrice asked curtly.

      Anna went straight across the road to her father, and asked him for a hundred pounds of her own money. She had not spoken to him, save under necessity, since the evening spent at the Suttons'.

      'What's afoot now?' he questioned savagely.

      'I must buy things for the wedding—clothes and things, father.'

      'Ay! clothes! clothes! What clothes dost want? A few pounds will cover them.'

      'There'll be all the linen for the house.'

      'Linen for—— It's none thy place for buy that.'

      'Yes, father, it is.'

      'I say it isna',' he shouted.

      'But I've asked Mrs. Sutton, and she says it is.'

      'What business an' ye for go blabbing thy affairs all over Bosley? I say it isna' thy place for buy linen, and let that be sufficient. Go and get dinner. It's nigh on twelve now.'

      That evening, when Agnes had gone to bed, she resumed the struggle.

      'Father, I must have that hundred pounds. I really must. I mean it.'

      'Thou means it! What?'

      'I mean I must have a hundred pounds.'

      'I'd advise thee to tak' care o' thy tongue, my lass. Thou means it!'

      'But you needn't give it me all at once,' she pursued.

      He gazed at her, glowering.

      'I shanna' give it thee. It's Henry's place for buy th' house-linen.'

      'Father, it isn't.' Her voice broke, but only for an instant. 'I'm asking you for my own money. You seem to want to make me miserable just before my wedding.'

      'I wish to God thou 'dst never seen Henry Mynors. It's given thee pride and made thee undutiful.'

      'I'm only asking you for my own money.'

      Her calm insistence maddened him. Jumping up from his chair, he stamped out of the room, and she heard him strike a match in his office. Presently he returned, and threw angrily on to the table in front of her a cheque-book and pass-book. The deposit-book she had always kept herself for convenience of paying into the bank.

'Here,' he said scornfully, 'tak' thy traps and ne'er speak to me again. I wash my hands of ye. Tak' 'em and do what ye'n a mind. Chuck thy money into th' cut1 for aught I care.'

      The next evening Henry came up. She observed that his face had a grave look, but intent on her own difficulties she did not remark on it, and proceeded at once to do what she resolved to do. It was a cold night in November, yet the miser, wrathfully sullen, chose to sit in his office without a fire. Agnes was working sums in the kitchen.

      'Henry,' Anna began, 'I've had a difficulty with father, and I must tell you.'

      'Not about the wedding, I hope,' he said.

      'It was about money. Of course, Henry, I can't get married without a lot of money.'

      'Why not?' he inquired.

      'I've my own things to get,' she said, 'and I've all the house-linen to buy.'

      'Oh! You buy the house-linen, do you?' She saw that he was relieved by that information.

      'Of course. Well, I told father I must have a hundred pounds, and he wouldn't give it me. And when I stuck to him he got angry—you know he can't bear to see money spent—and at last he get a little savage and gave me my bank-books, and said he'd have nothing more to do with my money.'

      Henry's face broke into a laugh, and Anna was obliged to smile. 'Capital!' he said. 'Couldn't be better.'

      'I want you to tell me how much I've got in the bank,' she said. 'I only know I'm always paying in odd cheques.'

      He examined the three books. 'A very tidy bit,' he said; 'something over two hundred and fifty pounds. So you can draw cheques at your ease.'

      'Draw me a cheque for twenty pounds,' she said; and then, while he wrote: 'Henry, after we're married, I shall want you to take charge