The Temptation of Torilla Read Online Free

doubt if we can afford it.”
    “I will go by stagecoach,” Torilla said, “and if I go alone and leave Abby to look after you, it will not cost so very much.”
    She had thought at first when Beryl’s letter came that she would be able to take Abby with her, but now she knew, not only because of the expense but because the Vicar would not look after himself, that Abby must stay with him.
    Abby could bully him into eating and sleeping more effectively even than she could do.
    “I was thinking,” the Vicar said, almost as if he was talking to himself, “that any spare money we have should go to Mrs. Coxwold. She is expecting her ninth child and I am sure the oldest girl has consumption.”
    “I am very sorry for the Coxwolds, Papa,” Torilla answered, “but you know as well as I do that Mr. Coxwold goes to the Public House every Friday evening and drinks away at least half his wages.”
    “I know, I know,” the Vicar said, “but a man is entitled to spend what he earns.”
    “Not when his children are starving,” Torilla retorted.
    “The second girl will be five this month and I think they will send her to work in the mine.”
    “Oh, no, Papa!” Torilla cried. “She is too young! Don’t you remember how ill the little Barnsby child was after she worked in water up to her knees and contracted pneumonia?”
    The Vicar sighed.
    “They have to eat, Torilla.”
    “And so have you, sir,” Abby said coming back into the room.
    She carried two dishes one of which contained potatoes and the other some rather unappetising-looking cabbage.
    “I have had enough,” the Vicar said vaguely, looking at the very small pieces of meat on his plate.
    “I’m not taking this mutton off the table until you’ve helped yourself properly, sir,” Abby said in the affectionate bullying tones of a nanny talking to a recalcitrant child.
    The Vicar picked up the carvers and added two small slices to those on his plate.
    Having stood with the vegetables at the Vicar’s side until he had helped himself to two tablespoons of potatoes, Abby waited in the room until Torilla had finished before she said,
    “I wonder, Miss Torilla if you would get the suet pudding out of the oven for me? I don’t trust that girl in the kitchen. The treacle is here so all we need now is the pudding.”
    “Yes, of course,” Torilla said obediently.
    Abby handed her the mutton and she carried it out to the kitchen knowing as she went that Abby would speak to her father.
    “Miss Torilla has told you, sir,” Abby said as soon as she had left the room, “that her Ladyship has asked her to go South for her wedding.”
    “Yes, Miss Torilla has told me,” the Vicar replied. “The fact is, Abby, we cannot afford it. Stagecoaches cost money and it is a long way to Hertfordshire.”
    “But it’s high time, sir, if you’ll excuse me for speaking frankly, that Miss Torilla went back and saw some decent folk for a change.”
    The Vicar looked up in surprise and Abby went on before he could speak,
    “Do you realise that Miss Torilla’s been here nearly two years and hasn’t exchanged half-a-dozen words with a lady or a gentleman? Her poor mother would turn in her grave if she knew what sort of place you’ve brought her to – and that’s the truth!”
    The Vicar looked startled.
    “I had not thought of that, Abby.”
    “Well, I have, sir! Miss Torilla’s eighteen, and if Mrs. Clifford were alive, God rest her soul, she would be looking out for a suitable husband for Miss Torilla, giving parties for her and having friends of her own age to the house.”
    Abby snorted before she went on,
    “What sort of people could we invite here? Ragged, dirty creatures covered in coal dust.”
    She spoke scathingly, but, as the Vicar put up his hands, she added,
    “Oh, I know sir, they’ve souls to save, they’re Christians and they’re the same as us in the sight of God. But you’re not expecting Miss Torilla to marry a coal miner, are you, sir?”
    The